THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (19 page)

* * * *

"Where is she?"

Katie? What's she doing here?
Lulu set the book she'd been pretending to
read aside. She listened to rapid footsteps on the polished maple floor of the hallway and
wished she were somewhere else.
She sounds angry.

The door burst open. "Why are you still here?"

Lulu had long since learned that the only way to deal with Katie's temper was to
meet it with calm and sweet reason. "Right now I'm trying to read this book. But if you
mean why am I staying here in Boise, it's because I choose to. Your mother has always
said I'm welcome anytime, for as long as I want to stay."

"The weather's been cold and clear for a week. The trains are running. Abel will
take you to Nampa any time you ask him.
Why are you still here?
" Her voice rose
to a near shout on the last word.

"I told you." Lulu heard her voice tremble. "There's no reason for me to go to
Hailey. I can work just as well from here."

"Have you told him?"

Lulu got up and went to close the door. Mrs. Petrie wasn't a gossip, but still, there
was no sense in inflicting this argument on her. She turned, standing with her back to the
door. "No, I haven't told him. I tried to write, and just couldn't find the right words. So I
decided to tell him in person. But there's no hurry. His knowing won't make any
difference."

Katie's mouth worked. For a moment Lulu wondered if she was about to fall down
in a fit. "No difference?" she finally gasped. "You think it will make no difference?" She
lowered herself into a chair. "Luella Marie King! I am ashamed of you. I'm not sure I want
to claim you as family, if you don't know why you should tell Tony he's going to be a
father."

"That's not what I meant! He does have a right to know, and I mean to tell him.
But I don't see what difference it will make
when
I tell him. It's not as if we're
going to get married, or anything."

"Are you planning on keeping the baby?"

"I don't see that I have any choice. But how is another matter. I can't seem to think
of any way I can work and make a home for a child. I've got some investments, but they
aren't anywhere near enough to live on. And my income from writing is too uncertain."
Tears clogged her throat, and she swallowed hard. Lately everything seemed too much for
her, as if she'd lost all her strength of will.

"Tony will help you."

"No, he won't! I won't take a cent from him. The last thing I want to do is give him
a say in my life." At least she was still strong enough to resist the temptation to lean on
him.

Katie looked at her for a long time. "I can understand that, although I don't agree.
All right, let's do it this way. You go to Hailey and tell Tony. Face to face. Tell him how
you feel, and what your plans are--"

"But--"

Holding up a hand, Katie went on as if Lulu hadn't tried to speak. "Tell him what
your plans are. You'll have time to make some, while you're on your way there. And then
the two of you agree on how you're going to handle being parents. What you decide is your
business, as long as you can come up with something reasonable."

"But--"

"I'm not done. I'll give you a week. You can leave for Hailey tomorrow. If I
haven't heard that the two of you have come to an agreement a week from today, I'll write
to Tony and to our parents. It's up to you." With those words, Katie pushed past Lulu and
left the library.

Much as she wanted to beg Katie to let her handle everything her way, Lulu knew
she'd waited too long for that to be an option. She followed Katie down the hall, reaching
the kitchen in time to see her mounting one of Luke's big riding mules outside the back
porch.
She must have ridden in from the ranch just to talk to me.

Katie looked up just then and caught Lulu's eye. She raised one brow.

Lulu nodded.

Katie returned the nod and spurred the mule into a canter. In a few moments she'd
disappeared up the road to town.

Lulu went out to the barn to ask Abel to take her to the depot in Nampa tomorrow.
On the way she looked up at the sky and wondered if those high clouds presaged a change
in the weather.
I sure hope it doesn't snow.

* * * *

Tony was in the Eureka Meat Market when a woman said from behind him, "Is
that Mr. Dewitt?"

He turned and saw the elderly woman who lived next door to Lulu. "Yes, it's me.
I'm sorry. I don't recall your name."

"Oh, that's all right. Some days I can't either." Her chuckle invited him to share the
joke. "It's Graham. Ethel Graham. I'm a widow woman."

He smiled. "How are you, Mrs. Graham? Getting through the winter all right?"
His question was a common one in Hailey. With snow higher than the eaves of most
houses, some of the older folks were having trouble getting about.

"I'm doing just dandy. My nephews--Ward Hickson's boys--come over every day
to make sure I've got firewood and water. They brought me downtown today. Pulled me
along on a sled, nice as could be."

"You let me know if there's anything I can do," he said. He was one of several
young men about town who'd taken it on themselves to see that paths were shoveled for
those who couldn't manage for themselves. Just now he was picking up a meat order for
Joe Davis, who'd fallen last week on a slick step and broken his leg.

"Oh. I'll be fine. I'm glad I ran into you though. I wanted to tell you that your
friend, Miss King, won't be back for a while yet. I got a telegram from her this morning.
She's visiting family, over in Boise."

Aware that his feelings about Lulu's return were mixed, Tony said, "Do you know
if someone's keeping an eye on her apartment?"

"Oh, my nephews and I take care of everything, seeing as how I'm right next door.
I just thought you might want to know why she hadn't come back, you being a long time
friend and all."

"I do, and I thank you. I'm off for Denver tomorrow--a matter of business. I expect
to be back somewhere around the middle of the month. So if she returns before I do, please
tell her I'll call on her when I can."

So Lulu's coming back. God! I wish I didn't care.

The train left here Saturday afternoon, ran down toward Silver Creek, but was
compelled to return to Bellevue, where it lay at noon today, awaiting the opening of the
road. As the snow-plows are said to be on the main line of the Union Pacific, trying to
keep that line open, it may be some days before any can be spared for the Oregon Short
Line, and it is, therefore, hardly probable that a train can get here before Wednesday.

Wood River Times

~~~

A seasoned traveler, Lulu rolled a quilt around a warm sweater, an extra shawl and
a pair of wool socks. She tied it with twine and made a loop so she could carry it across her
shoulder. With a package of raisins in her pocket, she was ready for almost anything a
winter journey might involve.

Twenty miles east of Nampa, the snow began. A cold wind found its way through
every crack and cranny of the railcar. By the time they stopped for water and coal at
Hammet, her quilt was wrapped around two small children whose parents clearly had no
idea of the rigors of rail travel, and her shawl warmed the shoulders of an elderly woman
whose threadbare coat had done little to protect her from the bitter cold. She had kept her
socks, so her feet, at least, were warm.

The train was nearly nine hours late arriving at Shoshone. Wearily Lulu gathered
her belongings, the book she'd tried to read, the folio filled with letters half written and the
articles she'd been unable to concentrate on. The woman wearing her shawl was bound for
American Falls, so Lulu's conscience would allow her to retrieve it, but the children
needed her quilt.

Aunt Hattie made that quilt for me. I can't leave it behind.
Tears
threatened to choke her, tears that had come all too readily these past few days.
What is
the matter with me?

She went to Mrs. Littleton and explained.

"Why of course you want your quilt," the old woman said, as she unwrapped the
shawl. "I'll be fine. My boy will be waiting for me, and he'll have the sleigh piled high with
buffalo robes and whatnot." She bustled up the aisle behind Lulu and made sure the two
children were bundled tightly in the shawl.

Guiltily, Lulu took the quilt and rolled it up for carrying. Before she got off the
train, she dug into her pocket for the raisins, which she gave to the children.

The first person she saw as she stepped down from the train was Tony. Ignoring
him, she went into the waiting room and chose a seat as far from the door as she could.
Half a dozen people were there, most of them sleeping. Shortly after the eastbound train
departed, Tony came and sat beside her.

"I'd prefer to sit alone," she told him.

"Too bad you're not going to. I want to talk to you."

A numbing sense of inevitability swept through her. She closed her eyes and
leaned back. There was no place to go, no place to hide.

Tony had seen her step off the railcar. She had looked so exhausted, so worn, that
he'd almost left her alone. But he was tired and hungry and had no more patience. She'd
run from him in September--almost five months now, and refused to talk to him at
Christmas. It was time they cleared the air. He knew they'd never go back to where they
were before...before September, but he still...oh, hell, he still loved her.

If she couldn't love him back, maybe they could be friends. He'd hate to lose that,
too.

"So talk," she said. The way she was sitting, shoulder hunched like a barrier
between them, he was certain she had no intention of listening to him.

"What was bothering you at Christmas, Lulu? You seemed to be doing your best
to make everybody as miserable as you were. "

"Nothing was bothering me! I just felt like you were chasing me."

"Chasing you? When I was invited? Oh, wait a minute. You asked them not to
invite me, didn't you? You were going to tell them what a bastard I am, and how poor little
you were the victim of my lust. Is that it?"

"No! Oh, Tony, no. I just didn't think I could bear--"

"Could bear the sight of me?" His voice was low, controlled, but it cut at her like a
skinning knife. "I'm not surprised. It might remind you you're not the icicle you pretended
to be. Great God, Lulu! They're my family, too! I hadn't been home for Christmas in six
years. And you wanted me to stay away? Just so you wouldn't have to remember what a
terrible mistake you made?"

"That's the biggest pile of bulls...nonsense I've ever heard."

Her muttered words couldn't be what they sounded like. So astonished that she'd
not lashed back at him, he could only say, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry," she said, only a little louder. Her shoulder hunched even more and she
leaned her forehead against the window.

He frowned, for her apology had been both uncharacteristic and unexpected. So
abject, so contrite. No, she was definitely not herself. His anger faded, giving way to
worry. "Are you all right?" he demanded.

For a long time he thought she wasn't going to answer. Finally, moving as if she
was ancient and feeble, she turned to face him. Her fingers shook visibly as she untied her
bonnet. Although the room was poorly lighted, he could see her face plainly. Silvery lines
marked the tracks of tears down her cheeks and her eyes were swimming with more.
"What is it? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I'm just tired," she said. "That's all. I'm tired."

He pulled her against him, holding her until she relaxed and her body stopped
shaking with her sobs. Eventually she pulled a handkerchief from somewhere and blew her
nose. "Good grief, what a watering pot. I must have been more tired than I realized." Her
smile was tremulous. And about as artificial as a three-headed cow. "I hope you'll forgive
me."

"Oh, that's good! You weep a few pathetic tears and expect they'll wash the slate
clean! Let's just make sure what I'm supposed to be forgiving you for. Acting like we were
chance acquaintances instead of family? Asking Katie not to invite me for Christmas? Or
using me for stud service, then tossing me out in the morning?" Until he said the words, he
hadn't acknowledged just how much her morning-after rejection had hurt him.

"You're no one to talk! At least I spoke to you the next morning. I didn't get on my
horse and ride away, without a word!"

"What are you talking about? When--"

"Oh, so you don't remember. You broke my heart, and you don't even remember.
That's really funny! And now we're even. Let's just agree we'll be cordial to each other
when we meet and not try for anything more." She pushed at him. "Now, get out of my
way. There are plenty of empty seats, and I want one to myself."

"You're not going anywhere, not until we talk."

"We've talked all we're going to. Are you going to move, or will I scream?"

She'd do it, too. He stood, stepped aside so she could get past him. As she did, he
smelled the faint honeysuckle scent she wore. Then she jerked free and was gone. She took
a seat at the other end of the room, about as far from him as she could get.

* * * *

The Station Master came in about seven in the morning. He rapped on the wall to
wake everyone. "Folks, I've got some bad news," he said, after waiting until most of them
had sat up. "The train's stuck in Bellevue. We hoped to have a snowplow in to clear the
line this morning, but this storm has blocked the Union Pacific lines all over. Now they're
saying it'll be tomorrow or the next day before they can get one here."

Having traveled the line between Hailey and Shoshone quite a few times, Tony
could just imagine what shape it was in, with this snow. There were a couple of places
where only a little wind could drift it closed.