Read THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER Online
Authors: Judith B. Glad
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Historical Fiction
The house was no warmer than outdoors. The water in the bucket had frozen solid,
with the dipper stuck fast. Tony set about starting a fire in the kitchen range, while Lulu
went to fetch the wood basket and teakettle from the parlor. She took time to peek into the
other rooms, curious about the place she would henceforth call home. The whole house
was sparsely furnished, as if someone had taken the best pieces away and left only what
they had no use for. The parlor held a bookcase--almost certainly Tony's own, for
well-thumbed engineering texts and stacks of papers covered with sketches or incomprehensible
technical jargon filled it--a shabby upholstered chair, and a small table on which sat a
lamp. The smaller bedroom was unfurnished, although there was a collection of boxes and
his trunk against one wall. The other bedroom held an unmade bed, obviously new, a
cheap pine wardrobe missing one door, and an oak dresser with a tarnished mirror in a
beautifully carved frame. In one corner stood a screen of polished black wood and painted
silk panels, a lovely piece. Surely it belonged to Tony.
"Oh, hell, I forgot."
She turned around to see him in the doorway, her valise in one hand.
"Forgot?"
"What a mess I'd left in here. Look, you go sit down while I clean up. I've got
some fresh sheets somewhere. I'll just--"
"You build the fire in the parlor. I'll take care of this. Where should I look for the
sheets?" Glad to have something constructive to do, she set her valise beside the
wardrobe.
"There's a cupboard in the pantry. They're in there, I think." He hesitated. "Lulu,
I--"
"Go," she told him, needing to be busy, to have her hands occupied so her mind
could work. "You take care of the fires. I'll see to supper."
She poked around the kitchen, wondering if he'd ever eaten more than breakfast
here. The flour canister held only a half pound or so, there was no sugar, and the container
of lard was almost empty. The flitch of bacon, fortunately, was enough to feed them for
several meals, and in the vegetable bin, she found three frozen carrots and an onion. She
tossed the onion into the slop bucket--fortunately empty--and set the carrots on the counter.
They'd be edible, but that was all she could say about them.
The range was heating and Lulu set the water bucket to the back of it, to thaw
slowly while she finished making an inventory. The icebox held a pitcher half full of
frozen milk and one egg. She set the milk near the range to thaw, but threw the egg in with
the spoiled onions. In the cupboard she found oatmeal, salt, pepper, coffee but no tea, and a
packet of unidentifiable white powder, possibly boric acid or Epsom salts. And wonder of
wonders, baking powder.
Tony came in. "The parlor stove's lit and there's enough wood in here to last for a
couple of hours," he said. "I'll go now, and take the buggy back to town. It'll probably take
me close to an hour."
"All right. I'll plan supper for about seven-thirty," she said, without looking up.
She was nevertheless aware when he paused with one hand on the door. She knew he was
watching her as she sliced the bacon. When he didn't move for a long time, she said, "The
sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back. Just be careful. It's dark out there."
"You'll be all right?"
"Tony, I'll be just fine. I've lived alone for six years now and have never had any
problems."
When he'd closed the door behind himself, she shook her head. Sooner or later
they were going to have to come to an understanding. His protective streak was enough to
make her want to scream. And it would only get worse, if she didn't draw a line here and
now.
* * * *
Tony looked in at the office after dropping the carriage off at the livery stable. No
one was there, although residual warmth told him Eagleton had been in recently. He rolled
his bicycle out, thinking he'd have to arrange for a carriage for Lulu's use. Eagleton's ranch
was too far out of town for her to walk.
Damn! It's cold! Sure wish I'd brought my scarf.
He cupped one gloved
hand over his nose and chin and breathed into it, warming the skin briefly. Unfortunately,
the ice was rutted on the road, and he soon had to hold on with both hands.
By the time he reached home, he felt as if his feet were made of ice and his hands
had fallen from his wrists. He left the bicycle inside the stable door and hobbled to the
house.
Lulu turned when he entered the kitchen. She dropped the spoon she held and
came to him where he stood against the door, breathing deeply of the warm, bread-scented
air. "Good grief, where have you been?" She unbuttoned his coat and pushed it from his
shoulders. "You've been gone more than an hour. Your face--" She caught his chin and
turned his face to one side then the other.
"You've frostbitten your nose," she said, pushing him toward the table. "Sit."
When he half fell into the chair, she looked more closely at his face. "Your chin and
cheeks, too, I think. And your fingers! Oh, Tony, I'll bet they hurt! Cup your hands over
your nose and chin and breathe through your mouth." Kneeling at his feet, she unlaced his
boots. "How are your toes?"
He tried to say they were fine, but his teeth started chattering about then.
As he warmed his face and hands with his breath, sensation returned, then quickly
turned into deep, knifing pain. Each finger felt as if it was being burned, his cheeks, nose
and chin screamed in agony, even his eyeballs hurt.
"What did you do, walk home?" She set a basin of warm water in front of him,
guided his feet into it.
He shook his head. "B-b-bicycle."
Still at his feet, she looked up. "You rode a
bicycle
in this weather. You
idiot! It must be twenty below out there. Why didn't you hire a horse?"
"No feed," he managed, before bone-deep shivers prevented further speech.
Tomorrow he'd have to arrange for hay and grain to be delivered.
He warmed gradually, his fingers and toes taking the longest. When he was able to
handle eating utensils, she set a plate before him. Thick, pepper-flecked gravy covered two
split biscuits. Four crisp slices of bacon lay alongside. He scooped up a spoonful of the
gravy and closed his eyes in pure pleasure as the salty, rich taste spread across his
tongue.
Lulu sat down across the table and watched him. "Honestly, Tony, I don't see how
you could have lived here with no more food in the house than you have. Didn't you ever
cook?"
"Sometimes," he told her, around a bite of bacon. "Don't forget I was gone for
three weeks. No sense in leaving a lot of food around for the mice to get." Steam rose from
the coffee in his cup, and he inhaled it with pleasure before drinking down half the
contents.
"I suppose not. But still..." She went to the stove and brought back the coffeepot.
"You don't have any tea," she told him, sounding disgusted.
He noticed then that her cup was filled with hot water. "I'm sorry," he said,
wishing they'd gone to her apartment. It would have been far more comfortable, and her
cupboards were better stocked. Closer to the office, too.
"We can get some in the morning. I'll make a list." For a few minutes the only
sound was the clink of spoons against earthenware and the thump of tin cups against the
tabletop. "Will you be able to help me move my things out here tomorrow, or must you go
to work?"
"I told Eagleton I'd be in on Monday. But maybe I can get away after dinner."
"Then I'll ride in with-- No, I guess I won't, not on your bicycle. Since I haven't
any shoes suitable for a two mile hike, I suppose I'll have to wait until you have time to
come and get me."
"We'll ride in with Eagleton. I'll walk over there after supper and let him know we
need a lift."
"And you'll tell him..."
"I'll tell him we got married. That's all he needs to know."
Her lips twisted in a wry smile. "Tony, the first time I take my coat off in public,
everyone will know why we got married. So you might as well tell Mr. Eagleton tonight,
so he won't be surprised."
"It's none of his business." Somehow the idea of explaining to Abner Eagleton
he'd been careless enough to make Lulu pregnant loomed far more difficult than telling
their parents. But she was right. "I'll tell him," he said.
While he was gone, Lulu washed up the dishes and tidied the kitchen. She found
fresh sheets, but not a second pillow. Since the bedroom was almost as cold as outdoors,
she decided to warm the sheets and not put them on the bed until they were ready to get
into it. She curled up in the upholstered chair and went to work on the article she was
contracted to write as part of a discussion on women's clothing reform that would appear
sometime next year in
The North American Review
. She wondered again, as she
had often since her clothing had begun to feel tight, if she should address the harm tight
corsets could do to a pregnant woman. She knew some women laced themselves tightly
throughout their pregnancies.
The words still refused to come, though, and she found herself staring into space,
thinking about her inexplicable shrinking whenever Tony touched her. After all, she had to
admit, she had practically seduced him, the one and only time they'd been intimate. So
why, now, did any indication of desire on his part make a cold knot form in her belly?
The back door opened. "Brrr!" she heard Tony say as he entered. "I didn't think it
could get any colder, but it has."
He moved around the kitchen, making small sounds that told her he was adding
wood to the range, checking the reservoir--it had been frozen solid when they arrived--and
getting a drink from the water bucket. When he came into the parlor, he was carrying a
lamp, one she hadn't seen before. "Eagleton invited us to sleep up there tonight, since
there's no heat in the bedroom. I told him no, but it's not too late..."
She wanted to ask what his employer's reaction to the news of their marriage was,
but she was too great a coward. If he'd been too upset, though, would he have invited them
over? "We'll be fine. It's so cozy in here I thought we might bring the bedding out and
sleep in front of the fire." More than once her parents had made their bed before the fire in
the big room of their cabin, while the children had clustered close to the chimney that kept
the loft warm.
"Good idea. I'll haul the mattress--"
"I'll help," she began, working herself out of the deep chair.
"No you won't. You've no business wrestling with that big, awkward thing." He
went into the bedroom. A sharp draft hit Lulu's ankles when he opened the door.
Within a few minutes they had everything arranged in the middle of the parlor.
Wishing they had a bathroom like Aunt Hattie's, Lulu dashed into the bedroom to prepare
for bed, a task she made shivering, short work of by tossing her outer clothing onto the
dresser and slipping her flannel nightgown over her wool challis shift. When she got back
to the parlor, she found the room lit only by the flames flickering behind the isinglass in
the door of the stove. Tony was lying in the bed, arms tucked behind his head. Instead of a
nightshirt, he'd kept his Union suit on.
Turning her back on him, she kicked off her slippers and shed her robe, tossing it
across the foot of their makeshift bed. She crawled between the soft flannel sheets, staying
as close to her side as possible. "Good night," she said, casting a quick almost-smile his
way. "Sleep well."
"What are you scared of?"
Lulu curled into a tight ball, her back to him. "Nothing," she said, her voice
sounding like someone else's.
"Liar!" His tone was light, almost teasing, but she heard a challenge there,
too.
"I'm really tired, Tony. Can we talk in the morning?"
"In the morning there won't be time. And the longer we let this fester, the worse it
will get. What's wrong, Lulu? Talk to me."
"What's wrong?" she exploded, turning to face him. "What's wrong? I'll tell you
what's wrong. I had my life all planned, and marriage wasn't part of the plan. I never
wanted children, never wanted to be somebody's wife in a backwards little town in Idaho."
Kicking the clinging flannel sheets aside, she sat up, pulling her legs close to her chest. "I
don't know why you couldn't have just left me alone," she muttered before hiding her face
against her knees. "I was doing fine."
He didn't speak for some moments. A pocket of sap exploded in a burning log, and
the house creaked under the weight of snow on the roof. Lulu huddled in miserable
self-pity, knowing she'd spoken words that were impossible to take back, certain she'd hurt him
beyond all mending.
"If we were still children, I'd kiss you and promise that tomorrow everything will
be better," he said at last, "but we're not, and we both know it won't be."
She lifted her head and looked at him, but his face was in shadow, so she couldn't
see his expression. Hadn't she said those exact words to him when he told her how his
promising career had been destroyed?
"Oh, Tony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"
"Yes, you did, and I don't blame you. This isn't what I had in mind for my life,
either." His sigh spoke of broken dreams and lost illusions. "Look, it's late. We're not going
to solve anything tonight. Let's get some sleep, and worry about all this when we're rested."
He held out his arm. "Come here."
"No, I--"
"Lulu, I just want to hold you. I promise it won't go any farther." He waited.
Slowly she uncurled herself, slid down between the sheets. There was still a good
foot of space between them, but she could feel the warmth of him.
The bedclothes rustled as he reached out and took her hand. "We made some vows
the other day," he said. "Let's see if we can't work for better, instead of settling for
worse."
THE EUREKA MEAT MARKET
At the old Stahle & Hafter Stand
Opposite Theatre, Hailey.
CHARLES BIRKIN, Proprietor.
Beef, Veal, Mutton, and Pork
AT WHOLESALE OR RETAIL.
A Specialty of Choice Cuts, Fair Dealing and Reasonable Prices.