Judith Miller - An Uncertain Dream

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Books by Judith Miller
FROM BETHANY HOUSE PUBLISHERS

The Carousel Painter

BELLS OF LOWELL
Daughter of the Loom
A Fragile Design
These Tangled Threads

THE BROADMOOR LEGACY
A Daughters Inheritance
An Unexpected Love
A Surrendered Heart

DAUGHTERS OF AMANA
Somewhere to Belong
More Than Words

LIGHTS OF LOWELL
A Tapestry of Hope
A Love Woven True
The Pattern of Her Heart

POSTCARDS FROM PULLMAN
In the Company of Secrets
Whispers Along the Rails
An Uncertain Dream

with Tracie Peterson

POSTCARDS from PULLMAN * 3

An
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J UDITH M ILLER

An Uncertain Dream
Copyright 2008
Judith Miller

Cover design by Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota

Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwisewithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Miller, Judith, date

An uncertain dream / Judith Miller.
p. cm. (Postcards from Pullman ; 3)

ISBN 978-0-7642-0278-0 (pbk.)

1. Pullman Strike, 1894Fiction. 2. Strikes and lockoutsFiction.

3. RailroadsEmployeesFiction. 4. Pullman (Chicago, Ill.)Fiction. I. Title.
PS3613.C3858U53 2008
813'.6dc22

2008002529

To my daughter, Jenna,
for your laughter, enthusiasm, and tender heart

JUDITH MILLER is an award-winning author whose avid research and love for history are reflected in her novels, many of which have appeared on the CBA bestseller lists. Judy and her husband make their home in Topeka, Kansas.

For my mouth shall speak truth;
and wickedness is an abomination to my lips.
Proverbs 8:7

CONTENTS

Pullman, Illinois
Friday, May 11, 1894

Angry shouts stopped Olivia Mott midstep. The brick and mortar walls of the Pullman Car Works muted the enraged voices outside the Administration Building. Certain something was amiss, Olivia cocked an ear toward the front door. Instinctively, she tightened her hold on the crystal vase cradled against her chest. The soles of her leather shoes clattered on the tile floor as she raced down the hallway and pushed open the heavy front door. The alarming sight of hundreds of men pushing and shoving their way toward the iron gates that surrounded the Pullman Car Works caused her to take a backward step.

The strike has begun! The thought ripped through her mind like a flash of lightning. In spite of the beautiful spring weather, beads of perspiration suddenly formed around the neckline of her white chef s jacket.

Lower rents and livable wages! Lower rents and livable wages! Again and again, the men chanted the words inscribed on the cardboard placards they waved over their heads.

Olivia hesitated only a moment before she sidled out of the doorway and edged her way toward the sidewalk. Instantly she was swept into the frenzied sea of humanity now moving away from the car works like a giant tidal wave. Why hadnt she protected the glass vase before leaving the building? She silently condemned her oversight and yanked the toque from her head. Using the white hat as a protective wrapping, she encased the crystal vase that was to become the centerpiece on the main dining table at todays luncheon and pushed her way back toward the doorway.

Workers clad in dark jackets hurled insults in the direction of the Administration Building, no doubt hoping their discontent would be heard by someone in authority. Olivia saw that a few of the men carried their personal tools and lunch pails. If their anger further escalated, those items could become dangerous weapons. She shuddered.

You work in there? one of the men approaching her shouted.

His fusty breath assailed her, and she took a sideways step. No. Im on my way to the hotel. She pointed to her jacket.

He glanced at the Hotel Florence emblem stitched on her jacket. Mr. Howard in there?

Her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton, but she forced her words around the dryness. I dont know. I didnt see him. She hoped her response would appease the man.

He grunted and stared at her a moment before turning to join the crowd and continuing the chants: Down with George Pullman! Down with George Pullman and his cruel treatment!

Olivia waited until a less frenzied group of workers approached and beckoned to one of them. Do you know where I can locate Fred DeVault?

Check the park. Thats where were supposed to meet.

Unlike the boisterous men with signs and the worker whod angrily questioned her, this man appeared numb. Olivia wanted to ask if he had been bullied into joining the strike, but she held her tongue. Her cousin Albert hadnt joined the union, and Olivia knew he had suffered the ire of his fellow workers. She wondered if he had walked out today with the strikers or if hed remained behind to perform his duties.

Olivia joined the men, and quickly the momentum of the crowd moved her forward until she was again crushed in the throng of workers. A heavy boot unexpectedly came down on her foot. She squealed in pain, but her cry went unheeded in the din.

Still clutching the vase, Olivia pushed against the forward movement of the crowd, hoping somehow to remain out of harms way. She edged her way toward the perimeter but soon lost her footing in the loose gravel surrounding the building. A beefy hand reached out to steady her.

Thank you! she hollered, but the man had already disappeared into the crush.

Inhaling a ragged breath, she moved to the far side of the building and rested against the wall. Her heart pumped at an alarming rate as the mass exodus continued. With each new surge of men, the call for fair treatment exploded into the late morning breeze. Still hoping to capture a glimpse of Fred, she stretched up on tiptoe and craned her neck. A quick look was enough to tell her shed not have much luck. She should take the mans advice and seek Fred out in the park, but first shed need to work her way through the horde and out the gates. If she waited a few minutes longer, perhaps the crowd would thin out. Olivia settled against the building. The coolness of the bricks seeped through her jacket as the workers continued their mass departure.

A wave of whoops and cheers rolled through the crowd as the men turned to look back toward the factory entrance. From her vantage point alongside the Administration Building, Olivia couldnt make out what had happened. After leaning forward for a better view, she clapped a hand to her mouth. The women from the Embroidery Department had filed out of their building. Not even Fred had believed the women would join the walkout. Riotous bellows of approval greeted the approaching women, many of whom waved their work aprons overhead like banners. Surprisingly, only a few appeared embarrassed by the attention.

The sight of the female workers was enough to move Olivia from her place of safety near the building. She wanted to know what had possessed the ladies to join the strike. These were the wives and mothers who had voiced deep concern when theyd first heard talk of a strike, fearing theyd be put out on the streets. Olivia noted that only some of the women joined in the chanting; others remained grim-faced and silent. The moment she spotted Lettie Meek, a woman shed met in church, Olivia pushed her way through the group.