How could a woman sleep the night before her wedding, the very day her father had died? But in the untamed southwest, deserts became sandstorms, reservoirs became raging rivers, iced peaks released avalanches, mountains buried treasure, and life went on. The rising sun greeted Eliana as she emerged from her tent and greeted the new day.
She yawned and stretched her arms high into the sky. Having slept some, she at last relinquished her struggle when early morning light brightened her tent. She sat outside and read Mama’s Bible for over an hour, finally turning to the family record in the front pages. John Van Horn, father. Josephine Leman, mother. Eliana Esther Van Horn, daughter. Now she knew. Not only was Essie—Esther—Mama’s best friend, but Eliana’s middle name honored the mother who gave birth to her.
She turned the page. Deaths. She needed to enter Papa’s death record. Her heart burned with sadness at the thought. The following page revealed a blank marriage certificate, and her pulse quickened. Reverend Mattheson would fill this in for her today when she became Mrs. Yiska Wilcox. Eliana Wilcox. She liked the sound of that.
“Miss Van Horn. Eliana.” Warren Cates stared at her.
Eliana startled. “Really, Mr. Cates, must you always sneak up on me like that?”
“I have a solution to your dilemma,” he said.
She closed the Bible in her lap. “Mr. Cates…”
“Hear me out. Come with me to Chaco Canyon and be my photographer. We will fully document the area and make a grand name for ourselves. Imagine the notoriety. You’ll be published in the top scientific journals. You’ll be the first woman photographer with that type of acclaim. Think of it!”
“I will have to decline, Mr. Cates. I’ve made other plans.” I would not marry a scorpion like you in a million years.
“What could be more important than an opportunity like this?”
“My wedding,” she said.
“You’ve no need to marry. You can create your own renown. You and I will make a team. And then we’ll see.”
“I’m marrying for love, not for opportunity.”
Mr. Cates’ face creased with frustration. “Are you intending to marry that half breed?”
Eliana stood and crossed her arms. “I’m marrying Mr. Wilcox.”
“For love?” Cates laughed. “What could he know about…Let me put it this way, Eliana. If you don’t come with me, his short career will be over before it even begins. I will smear his name all over—” Cates grabbed Eliana by the arm.
Yiska, Mr. Robbins, and Reverend Mattheson walked up behind Cates. Yiska twisted the man’s arm behind his back. “That’ll be enough, Cates.”
Mr. Robbins jabbed his finger in the man’s chest. “Let me put it to you this way. You’re off the expedition and going back the way you came. And if you dare make one disreputable remark about this fine correspondent, the Atlantic Monthly and every other magazine will have a full report from the government to discredit anything you write regarding any of the territories in these four corners, or anywhere else for that matter. Do I make myself clear?”
Warren Cates scowled and spit on the ground missing Yiska’s boots. “Yes.”
Mr. Robbins gave him a push. “Pack your gear and go.”
Yiska wrapped his arm around Eliana, and Reverend Mattheson came alongside them. “I believe we have a wedding to plan.”
Yiska bathed and readied himself for his wedding. He put on clean trousers, a fresh shirt, and combed his hair—deciding not to wear his headband. Then he knelt down and prayed to his Maker to help him to fill the role of a husband in a way that would bring honor to God and give joy to his wife.
At the trading post Eliana waited for him with Reverend Mattheson, Chandler Robbins, and the rest of the survey team.
Yiska greeted her with a wide smile. “I’ve come to collect my bride.” She had pinned the strand of lace in her hair. He took the end of it between his fingers and whispered in her ear, “You are beautiful.”
A Navajo weave scarf adorned her gingham dress, and she had fastened a silver concha at the neck. She must have purchased them from the trading post.
Cornelius handed her a fist full of desert flowers—Indian paintbrush, larkspur, fiddlenecks, and others. “Every bride needs a bouquet.”
“How thoughtful. Thank you, Cornelius.” Eliana then eyed Yiska and pointed to the spot where her camera was all set up.
“Mr. Robbins has agreed to take a wedding photograph of us after the ceremony. That is, if you don’t mind.” Yiska recalled the day she had taken his picture and captured his heart forever.
Reverend Mattheson walked up to the two of them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Are we ready?”
Eliana hesitated. “We have no rings.”
He reached into his pocket and held two gold rings in the palm of his hand. “This is your father’s wedding band. I thought you might need it.” He smiled at Yiska.
Eliana looked at the smaller one. “And the other?”
“I’ve carried this with me for nearly twenty years. It belonged to my wife…your mother.” Mattheson choked. “I’d be honored if you would wear it.”
Eliana pressed her hand to her chest, and tears welled up. “The honor will be mine.” She reached out and hugged him.
Yiska and Eliana led the procession down to the river’s edge, where they pledged their lives to one another. After they exchanged rings, Reverend Mattheson handed Eliana an earthen vessel that Yiska had obtained at the trading post. “It’s a Navajo wedding vase,” Yiska said.
She studied it with curiosity. “It has two spouts.”
“The bride and groom each drink water from it to symbolize two souls drawing spiritual nourishment from a single source.” His eyes penetrated hers. “Our source is Christ, the river of life. He is the sun in my shadows, the light that brightens the shadows of my past. And He has blessed me with you.”
“And me with you.” Eliana took a sip from the vase, her glistening eyes upon him. She handed it to Yiska, and he drank from the opposite spout.
Yiska gazed at her, memorizing the moment, the way he felt with the late afternoon sun shining down upon him…them.
Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks and trailed over her lips. Yiska brushed light kisses over her moist mouth, sealing his love for his bride.
Eliana knew her face was as bright as the crimson sunrise when she exited her wedding tent with her husband the morning after they celebrated their holy matrimony. How wonderful it was to lie in Yiska’s strong arms that night, reflecting on the joy of their marriage. But today was a new day, and the team would make the final leg of the journey toward Wilson’s Peak.
The heat of the day as they rode through the desert would have been unbearable, if not for the light breeze coming off the San Juan River.
Yiska pointed to a huge, jagged rock formation protruding out of the sand several miles away. “There it is. Wilson’s Peak. Some call it Shiprock, saying it looks like a clipper ship. But the Navajo called it Tse’ Bit’a i’, ‘rock with wings.’”
“I can see how it got its name.” Eliana looked at the mysterious pinnacle and thought of how strange her life had become. Would they live in her house in Lake City? Could she keep the photography studio? Did Yiska want a family? “What else do you have in view, Yiska? I mean after the expedition. Will you continue to work for Mr. Whiley as a guide?” What would become of her if he was gone for many months?
“I plan to make a home for my wife. For my children. Mr. Whiley is thinking of opening a second store in Lake City. He might let me run it, and I could also write for one of the newspapers. I have some money saved, so I hope we might keep your house and your photography studio.”
“Oh, Yiska. Your plans are wonderful. It sounds like you’ve given them much thought.”
“That’s what a man does.”
“And a woman.”
Yiska rode Shadow closer to her, leaned in, and planted a kiss on her lips.
When they arrived near Wilson’s Peak in the late afternoon, the surveyors set up their equipment and spread out in a triangular formation at points surrounding the pinnacle. It took quite some time to complete their measurements and document the astronomical coordinates. Eliana set up a camera on its stand to photograph the massive rock and the landscape of low plateaus and interesting formations.
By nightfall the team had settled down and gathered around the campfire. Rich blues and reds cast a luminous glow in the cloudy evening sky, creating an eerie backdrop against the great winged rock. Eliana missed Papa. She could imagine him sitting there chewing on his empty pipe, gazing up at the brilliant colors.
Cornelius slapped his hat against his leg. “Take that!” He looked up, all eyes on him. “A sand spider.”
“The Navajo believe that killing a sand spider can make one bald,” Yiska said. He leaned over to Mr. Robbins as he pointed to Cornelius’s balding skull. “He has killed too many sand spiders.” Laughter echoed into the night.
“You know so much, why don’t you tell us about that fearsome rock over there.” Cornelius nodded toward the silhouette of the pinnacle.
“All right,” Yiska said. “A long time ago, the Diné were saved from their enemies after praying to their gods for deliverance. The ground rose, and they were transported into the east and lived on top of the rock. One day during a storm, while the men were away working the fields, lightning split off the trail, and only the sheer cliff remained. The women, children, and old men left on top starved. Their bodies are there to this day. It is forbidden to go there, so no one can stir up their ghosts or rob their corpses.”
“That’s a cheerful tale,” Cornelius snickered.
Eliana hugged her coat around her and inched closer to Yiska. “Do you know any other Navajo legends?”
“There is another one of a large bird named Picking Up Feathers. He was the child of Diné gods, Sun and Changing Women. He lived on top of the peak and fed on human flesh. Each day he flew to Where the Mountain Went Out on Top to get men”—he leaned into Eliana’s shoulder—“but never women. He now lives in the Sun’s house.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I wouldn’t want him to come down and take you away from me so soon,” she said.
Mr. Robbins stood and stretched. “All right, time to call it a night. Remember, we’re more exposed out here, so we’ll tighten our watch. And as you can tell, the temperature will continue to drop during the night.”
Eliana smiled. She had Yiska to keep her warm.
Robbins continued, “We’ll pull out at dawn and head north to Darling’s Line to locate the four corners marker.” He looked over at Yiska. “Oh, and thanks for the stories, Yiska. Let’s hope they won’t give us nightmares.”
Four Corners – July 10, 1875
The next afternoon Eliana marveled when they reached the Colorado–New Mexico border in such good time. She was excited to finally see the original marker that Ehud Darling set in 1868. Mr. Robbins and his crew would install a new monument in its place, a seven-foot pillar of hard sandstone, and Eliana was here to document the historical occasion. She set up her camera, this time with Yiska’s assistance. She thought it best to begin instructing him on how to handle the equipment. She’d need his help for the many hundred miles that awaited them as they continued south to survey the boundary between the Arizona and New Mexico territories.
“Is this where you want it?” Yiska asked.
Eliana turned around and checked the position. “Perfect. Thank you.” Beyond him she noticed Chandler Robbins talking to his assistant surveyors. He seemed disturbed, and his hands flailed in every direction as he spoke.
A few minutes later, Robbins called the team together to explain the situation. “The marker is in the wrong location. According to my modern instruments, Darling fell three miles east of the proper intersection. It looks like we have to go a little farther west.”
The teams loaded up and went on, and Chandler Robbins at last located the coordinates of the 37th parallel and 109th meridian from Washington.
Eliana held her camera on the site as Yiska helped some of the men lower the marker three feet into the ground while others kept watch with their rifles. The marker was set exactly in the place where the four territories intersected. Perhaps someday they would become states in this wonderful, wild land.
As the sun displayed its vibrant colors, Mr. Robbins and the survey team headed out to set up camp. Yiska helped Eliana load her photography equipment onto Sampson. And then he took her by the hand and walked her up to the marker for a closer look.
“Mr. Robbins etched the exact coordinates here, and the name of each territory on the sides.” Yiska pointed to each one. “Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico.”
Eliana looked with interest at each side of the square column. She tilted her chin and suppressed a smile. “There’s only one problem, husband.”
Yiska placed his hand on his hat and squinted. “What is that, wife?”
“You must decide where to kiss me.” Eliana circled around the tall stone. “Here, here, here, or here?”
“That’s no problem at all. I will kiss you in each territory, here and everywhere else on our journey.”
“And I will hold you to that promise, my love.”
Under the canopy of an Indian paintbrush sky, Yiska kissed Eliana. Again. And again. And again. At that moment Eliana knew the memory of this day would remain engraved on her heart forever, the perfect reward for the shadow catcher’s daughter.
Dear Reader,
Love’s Compass is my debut novel from 2012, originally titled The Shadow Catcher’s Daughter. What an adventure it has been! I hope you enjoyed traveling along with Eliana and Yiska on their romantic journey as much as I did. Though their story is fictitious, the actual 1875 survey of the Four Corners was real, so I decided to have my characters tag along. Using the latest technology at the time, surveyor Chandler Robbins set the boundary for the corners and discovered the earlier survey at Shiprock, NM, was incorrect. A recent controversy indicated that the monument may not have been correctly placed as measured from the Greenwich Prime Meridian. But prior to 1912, and at the time of the 1875 survey, coordinates were measured from the Washington Meridian (about 3 miles difference). This is inconsequential, however, because the border between the states, as determined in the Robbins’s survey, was accepted as the legal boundary. Today’s monument is exactly where the state lines intersect.
When reading about Chandler Robbins I discovered that he served with photographer James F. Ryder in Ohio’s 86th Infantry during the Civil War. Ryder is famed for capturing the war with his camera; thus I decided to make him John Van Horn’s mentor, which in turn connected the three men as old wartime companions. Ryder stated once that what he saw through the lens of the camera was “faithfully reported, exact, and without blemish.” That is how our heavenly Father sees his children. I do hope you believe how precious you are to Him.
I have a few other “real” characters like Mr. Wilson and Mr. Snowden in my story, but my favorite secondary character is Reverend George Darley. He was known as “missionary to the San Juans” and really did preach in saloons! He and his brother built the very first church on Colorado’s western slope in 1876. For more information about the research involved in this novel and to learn more about George Darley’s extraordinary adventures, please visit me online at carlagade.com.
If you liked this story please leave a review for me at Amazon.com and like my author page on Facebook. I hope you will enjoy the bonus story, Pride’s Fall, by Darlene Franklin which also takes place in the Four Corners.
Love & Blessings,
Carla Gade