THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (10 page)

"Where do you live?" Mr. Eagleton asked when she'd closed the trunk.

"At the corner of Carbonate and Second Avenue, in a duplex house. Mine is the
apartment farther from the corner."

Eagleton gestured for her to precede him up the hall. "If you'll wait, I'll send for
my buggy and take you home. I'd like to talk to Tony."

"Thank you, but no. I can walk to my lodging in less time than it would take you to
send the message. You're welcome to call later, of course."
After I get some clothes on
him. What would this mistrustful gentleman think to find him naked in my bed?

* * * *

The britches were welcome. As soon as he was decently covered, Tony called,
"You can come in now."

Lulu entered, carrying a quart jar. She set it on the bedside table and said, "Lie
down on your stomach. I want to put this on your back."

Because the burns hurt like the very devil, he obeyed without question. When she
removed the still-damp compress, it felt as if she took half his skin with it. He bit back a
curse.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No...yes, but go ahead. If I know Eagleton, he'll be here any minute."

She picked up the jar. "I wish I knew if this was the right thing to do. If only you'd
let me get the doctor."

"You're doing fine. I don't like doctors." They tended to look too closely for his
peace of mind.

She sniffed, but said nothing.

Something cool touched his back. It didn't exactly soothe the pain from the burns,
but it somehow changed it. He could feel her fitting a new bandage, but it wasn't damp, as
the compress had been.

"Can you sit up? I need to tie this on."

He did, and she wrapped strips of sheeting around his chest, until the bandage on
his back felt secure. When she held out his shirt, an old chambray one, faded almost to
white and soft from many washings, he found there was only a slight discomfort as he
moved.

"This is the only one that buttons up the front. I didn't think you'd want to raise
your arms too much tonight." She bent before him and buttoned the front. Her face was
inches from his. "I think you should leave it untucked and loose."

Before she could straighten, he caught one of her hands. "Lulu--"

"Let go. Please."

He lifted the hand and kissed it. And caught a faint, sweet scent. "Honey?"

She pulled her hand free. "Mamma used to put it on burns. She said they healed
faster and didn't leave such awful scars. I couldn't think of anything else."

"You put honey on my back?"

"Uh-huh. But nobody will know. You don't smell sweet or anything." She swiped
her hands together. "Now, let me fix up your hand."

He held it out, wondering how he was going to test anything with his right hand.
He should have listened to Aunt Hattie and learned to do more with it.

"Can you make the bandages smaller?"

She removed the last layer. "I'll try, but I want to make sure the honey coats all the
burns." She poured a dollop of honey into his palm and used her fingers to spread it over
the blisters. When they were all well-coated, she handed him a fat roll of sheeting. "Take
hold of this."

He did, once more feeling how the honey seemed to take much of the sting from
his burns.

Lulu used narrow strips of sheeting to hold the roll in his palm and keep his
fingers closed. Although his hand was still useless, he realized she'd left his thumb free to
move. "There. How's that?"

He rotated his wrist, found he could close his thumb on the roll. "It feels much
better. And I may be able to use it enough to do the tests tomorrow."

"If you can't, I could--" she paused as a knock sounded on the door. "That will be
Mr. Eagleton. I'll let him in."

Tony followed her slowly. In his mind, he completed her sentence. Yes, he would
ask her to help him test the switchboard tomorrow, even if he was able to do it alone. How
had he ever convinced himself he'd be able to forget her?

Eagleton was accompanied by another man, one whose black bag proclaimed his
profession. Argument did Tony no good. Within a few minutes, he was back in the
bedroom, being unwrapped by Doctor Lewis.

"Honey, hmmm?" He laid the bandage aside. "Turn a little, get some light on this.
Yep, blistered good. Hmmm."

Tony felt his fingers touching lightly along the edges of the burns.

"Got a little too close to the fire, hmmm? Heard you saved Mrs. Tompkins. Broke
her ankle when she fell, but that's better'n burning to a crisp. Hmmm. You're gonna be
sleepin' on your belly for a week or two. Lay down. I want to put more of that honey
on."

Obediently Tony stretched out.

At last the doctor pronounced him under excellent care. They both went back into
the parlor, where Mr. Eagleton sat, leafing through a magazine. He laid it aside.
"Well?"

"He'll be fit as a fiddle in a week or so. The girl knew what she was doing."

"That's a relief. Thanks, Ned."

"My pleasure. I'll see you Tuesday, as usual." The doctor left, after refusing
Tony's offer of payment.

"You look like you've been drug through a knothole backwards," Eagleton said,
once they were alone.

Tony ran his hand through his hair, knowing it did little good. Soot and grime
coated each strand, stiffening them until he was sure he looked something like an angry
porcupine. "I know. Look. Mr. Eagleton, I'll pay you back for the doctor. My pocketbook's
in the other room--"

"Ned won't take your money. He'll win more than that from me in our next poker
game. Now, what were you thinking, coming to this woman's place? You trying to blacken
her name?"

"I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. The office was locked. My keys...I must
have lost them."

"He won't blacken my name. I've made arrangements to sleep at Mrs. Graham's
tonight," Lulu said, entering from the kitchen. "He'll be much more comfortable here than
on a cot in your office."

"Well, yes, but--"

"Mr. Eagleton, I am a respectable spinster, and my neighbor is equally
respectable. Between us we can surely protect my name and Mr. Dewitt's."

Tony said, "She's right about the cot, Mr. Eagleton. If it won't damage her
reputation, I'd much rather stay here, tonight at least. I'll look for another place
tomorrow."

"That's settled then." Lulu brushed her hands together. "I've put the kettle on.
What blend of tea do you prefer, Mr. Eagleton? I have Gunpowder, Keemun and
Jasmine."

"Do you have coffee?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Give him Gunpowder, Lulu," Tony suggested. "I think you'll like it, Mr.
Eagleton. It's a little different from what most people think of as tea."

"It sounds deadly, but I'll try anything once. Now then, we've got a little time, so I
want you to take it easy tomorrow. I'll see to delivering the batteries and you can run the
tests Thursday instead. Will you need help?"

Tony glanced at Lulu, who nodded. "No, I don't think so. Don't worry, Mr.
Eagleton. We'll be open for business Monday morning."

"That's fine, then." He cocked his head, looking at Tony with a peculiar
expression. "I saw Miss King pick up a spectacles case. You'd better wear 'em when you
go out tomorrow."

"Oh, I forgot. Here they are." Lulu pulled the case from her skirt pocket.

"I'd forgotten I had these. Do you have some fine wire, Lulu?"

"I'll see." She went back into the kitchen.

Tony set the spectacles aside. "Did you talk to George Randall? He said he was
going to sign up for service, but I haven't seen him since. I'd like to get him connected
before Monday."

"He got called down to Franklin. His mother's ailing. But Elmer O'Bannion came
by this morning, wondering if it was too late to sign up. He fancies a telephone in his
store."

"That's right behind the theatre, isn't it? We should be able to run a wire over there
easily. Does he have to have it Monday?"

"Have to? No. But it'd be good business, were we to show as many subscribers
signed up beforehand as we can. The investors will like that."

"Then I'll do it, one way or another."

Lulu entered then, carrying a tray loaded with teapot, cups and a plate of cookies.
The conversation turned social.

Mr. Eagleton bravely drank a whole cup of Gunpowder tea, but it was plain he
only did it out of politeness. He departed soon after, pleading a dinner engagement. But
before he left, he pulled Tony out onto the porch. "That's a fine young woman. You take
good care of her, and don't do anything to besmirch her good name."

As he mounted into his buggy, he said, "I'll see you later. And get those spectacles
fixed."

Tony went back inside, aware that he was as tired as if he'd worked all day. Lulu
was in the kitchen. "Those cookies were delicious. I didn't know you cooked...I
mean--"

She laughed. "I know what you mean. We career women aren't supposed to have
housewifely skills. But remember, before I had a career, I had a mother who was the
second best cook in Cherry Vale. And she taught me well." She reached to set the teapot on
a high shelf, the motion tightening her shirtwaist across her breast.

He only imagined he could see the ivory flesh, the rosy nipple. Desire burned, a
hotter flame than any he had felt the night before. He swallowed, and forced his gaze to the
window. "I don't imagine you get much time to cook, what with all your traveling," he
said. His voice sounded weak and shaky in his ears.

She turned, and was standing far too close. "Not as much as I'd like. Excuse me. I
need to put these over there." She held three tea canisters.

Tony stepped aside, wondering how long it would be before she went next door
for the night.

Wishing she wouldn't.

She settled him in the rocker, padding the back with cushions so he could sit
without pressure on his burns. On the table at his side were books, magazines, a small
spool of fine wire--beading wire, she'd called it--and his spectacles case.
Mr. Eagleton
was so insistent I wear these. Was that why he gave me that newspaper article? Could he
suspect...? No, of course not.

Feeling like the world's worst hypocrite, he picked up the spectacles and clumsily
went to work on the detached earpiece.

Lulu fixed scrambled eggs and toast for supper. When she was small, that had
been her mother's cure for all ills. She'd told Mrs. Graham she'd spend the evening with
Tony, and come over after settling him for the night. Her elderly neighbor had smiled,
handed her a key, and said, "Have a nice evening. I'll leave a lamp burning."

"I'll help you to bed," she told him when they'd done eating. From the way he
moved, slowly and gingerly, she was sure he was hurting, but too much the man to admit
it.

"Not yet, unless you want to go next door so early. If I lie on my belly too long,
I'll be stiff as a board tomorrow."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. But don't expect me to entertain you. I've got work
to do."

To his credit, he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, Lulu, I'm sorry. I didn't even
think--"

"Don't worry about it. I can do it tonight just as well. But if I'm going to help you
Thursday, I really do need to get these letters written." Seating herself at her desk, she lit
the lamp and opened her folio.

Little good it did her. He was far too much of a distraction, even though he never
spoke. Every rustle of fabric against skin, every turn of a page, every shift of his feet and
creak of the rocker pulled her attention away from her tasks and back to him.

About eight-thirty she gave up and turned to look at him. A book was open on his
lap. But he wasn't reading. Instead his eyes were looking at something far away, in time or
space. Something unpleasant, she imagined, from the way his mouth was set and the
dimples in his cheek had lengthened into creases.

"Are you in pain?"

She might as well have spoken to the wall. "Tony? Are you in pain?"

"Wha--Oh, no. No, I'm fine. A twinge now and then, and my hand aches, but
nothing serious."

"Then what's the matter? You looked so...so hopeless."

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the book on his lap and set it on the table. Without
turning to look at her, he said, "Lulu, did I ever tell you what brought me to Hailey?

"Why I'll never work on another bridge, except simple, unimportant projects. Like
the one I'm designing for Eagleton."

After the blaze the Merchant's Hotel fired up liquid refreshments to the
extent of six gallons of whiskey, half a barrel of beer, and half a dozen bottles of wine.
Two hundred cigars were passed over the bar.

Wood River Times

~~~

Confession was good for the soul. He'd heard that trite little saying many times,
and he still didn't believe it. He did, however, know he had to tell her how thoroughly he'd
destroyed his career.

His life.

"It was mostly my fault, I guess," he said, trying to find a way to ease into the
telling of it. "I came out of college with a pretty inflated sense of my own worth." A
realization he'd come to with much soul-searching. "Part of it was because the year I
entered Harvard was when a program to bring Chinese students to America began. Forty or
fifty came to Massachusetts, with the expectation that eventually they'd be admitted to
American colleges. Not everyone was in favor of the program, and there was a lot of
debate about it around school.

"Nobody knew I was Chinese. My legal name is Tony Dewitt--Silas made sure of
that when he adopted me. I spoke perfect English, I was an American citizen, and I didn't
look typically Chinese. Most of the fellows assumed I was part Indian, and I never said
anything to make them think different.

"I didn't
want
to look Chinese. Soomey kept telling me I should be proud
of my heritage, but I never understood why. What had being Chinese ever done for me,
except gotten me spat upon, kicked around, and half-killed?" He fingered the scar on his
forehead, faded now, until it was a faint silvery line, but still a reminder of the day he'd
been brutally beaten and left for dead by a madman.