THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (30 page)

"I'd like to sit a while first," he told her.

Was his voice less strong, less resonant than usual? She thought so. After all, he
was
exhausted.

When he went into the parlor, Lulu busied herself making fresh tea. She'd
purchased several varieties yesterday, and while the kettle came to a boil, she studied her
choices. Finally she reached for the small tin of lapsang souchong. It was not a tea she
cared for, but she remembered Soomey saying once it was invigorating. When the pot was
well heated, she put in a small handful of the dark, twisted shreds, then added more. "If
some is good, more is better," she mused half aloud, as she poured boiling water over
them.

He was slumped in the big chair, head back and eyes closed. His bare feet were
stretched toward the stove, but she doubted if much heat reached them.
Doesn't he
have slippers?
She hadn't seen any when she'd been arranging her clothes beside his in
the wardrobe and bureau.

After setting the tray on the box she'd pulled next to the chair, she went to the
bedroom and brought back her afghan, a colorful mix of leftover yarns she'd made when
she was learning to knit. She draped it over his legs and tucked it around his feet.

"Thanks," he murmured, without opening his eyes.

"Did you sleep last night?" she wondered aloud.

"Five hours or so," he replied. "I used the cot in the office. Didn't have the energy
to go to your apartment."

The tea had brewed long enough, so she poured him a cup. "Here. Drink this, and
then we'll have supper."

He took it and sipped. Grimaced. "Good lord! What is this stuff?" He tasted it
again, without waiting for a reply, "Never mind. It's lapsang souchong, isn't it? God! What
a nasty taste!"

Unreasonably hurt, Lulu said, "I thought you liked it." She reached for the cup.
"Here, let me pour it out and make something else."

He pulled it out of her reach. "Never mind. I'll drink it. Soomey always insisted it
increased energy and vir-- and vigor." He sipped, made another face, and sipped again.
When his cup was empty, he set it on the tray. "I feel better already. You said supper was
ready?"

They ate in silence. Lulu watched him, worried at the way his shoulders were
slumped, his face lined with exhaustion. Yet she sensed a tension within him, as if he was
holding tightly to words and emotions he was afraid to let loose. She wished she knew
what to say to relax him, to soothe him, for she was certain she was to blame for some of
his unrest.

Lacking the words she needed, she said, "Did you get everything working?"

"I think so." He yawned. "At least all the circuits were working when I quit, God
only knows if they'll still be in the morning." He slammed his hand down on the table.
"Damn them! They had to know what they were doing. I'd give anything--"

"Have you spoken to the sheriff?"

"Eagleton did. But there's not a chance they'll find who did it. No tracks, no
conveniently dropped handkerchiefs. Nothing. We'll have a guard on the switchboard at
night from now on, but there's no way we can protect the lines. That son of a--" He
dropped his face into his hands, breathed deeply. "Sorry, Lulu. I just wish..."

"What you need is a bath, then sleep. I've got hot water in the reservoir. I couldn't
find a tub big enough for you to sit in, though."

"I don't have one. I've been taking my baths out at the hot springs."

"Well, then, you'll just have to make do. At least you'll be warm. Let me clear the
table, and get things ready."

He sat and watched as she tidied the kitchen. She set the soup pot onto the back
porch and brought in the milk. "I'll set some of this to warm while you bathe. Mamma
always said there was nothing to untangle the knots better than warm milk and a soft
bed."

"Sounds good," he said, as he stood and slid his suspenders from his shoulders.
"Oh, I picked up your mail. It's in my coat pocket."

Once everything was ready for his bath, Lulu got the mail. "I'll be in the parlor, so
call if you need anything." She kept her eyes averted from the sight of his naked chest.
Even so, she saw his hands go to the fly of his britches. Before she could be tempted to
watch him remove them, she scooted into the parlor.

One of the letters was from her parents, one from a college friend. The return
address on the last envelope had her tearing it open with shaking hands. A check fell out, a
check larger than any she had ever received for her writing. The letter that accompanied it
seemed almost a fairy tale, even on second reading. The
Ladies' Home Journal
had bought her story and hoped she would send them more. She looked again at the
check.

And as she did, she had an idea.

If he'd been alone, the house would have been as cold as outdoors, and Tony
would have simply fallen into the icy bed as soon as he'd removed his filthy clothes.
Instead he was warm, well fed, and standing ankle deep in a tub of hot water. In a few
minutes he'd crawl into bed and sip hot, sweetened milk, if he could stay awake that long.
He swiped the dripping washrag across his chest and shivered as water trickled down his
belly. Bending one more time--what an effort!--he rinsed the rag, and wiped the last of the
soap from his legs. "Good enough for government work," he muttered, too tired to care if
he'd left a smear of mud here and there, or a residue of soap somewhere else.

He stepped out onto the folded cloth Lulu had laid beside the washtub and dried
himself with a soft linen towel she'd left hanging on a chair back beside the range. One of
hers, he reckoned. His own towels looked shabby in comparison, and were getting ragged.
No wonder. They were the ones he'd taken with him when he'd gone away to college, ten
years ago.

As he reached for his britches, he noticed the garment hanging on the other chair
back. A nightshirt, unless he was seeing things. A new one, still creased from the store.
With a sigh, he slipped it over his head. If that was how Lulu wanted him to sleep, that was
how he'd sleep. Until they got their differences straightened out, anyhow.

He sure hoped it didn't take too long.

When he stepped into the parlor, Lulu rose from his chair. "I've warmed the bed
for you. There's still one hot stone at the foot, so be careful you don't burn your feet. I'll
bring your warm milk."

For some reason his throat felt tight. As if he was about to weep.
Ridiculous!
I'm just worn out.

Once he was in bed, he could hardly keep his eyes open to drink his milk. Its
warmth seemed to seep into every inch of his body, sapping his will and stealing his
consciousness. He handed the mug back to her still half full. "That's enough," he said, the
words dissolving into a tremendous yawn.

"Before you go to sleep, I have to ask you something," she said, sounding
hesitant.

"Ummm?" Opening his eyes was too much work.

"I'd like to get us some furniture, and hire a handyman. There's a lot that needs
doing, if we're going to stay here any time at all."

"Fine." His jaw creaked with another yawn. "Do whatever you want. I've got some
money set aside, so go ahead..."

He felt her pull the covers over his shoulders, then nothing.

Lulu looked down at him, sprawled across the bed. She really should discuss her
idea with him before she went ahead with it, but he had so much on his mind. Better to let
him spend his energies on his work, while she took over the running of the household.

Once she had it running smoothly, she'd have plenty of time to read about babies.
There was a lot she needed to learn, and only four months to learn it in.

Some Springfield physicians are speculating upon the influence of the
telephone upon the sense of hearing. They have found several cases wherein disease of the
ear has been aggravated by using it.

The Manufacturer and Builder:
A Practical Journal of Industrial Progress
- February 1884

~~~

"Did you come to bed last night?"

Lulu set the bowl of oatmeal down before him. "No. When I looked in on you, I
saw there wasn't room for me. You were sprawled across the bed from corner to corner.
And you were so soundly asleep I doubt I could have moved you if I'd tried."

"We'll talk about this," he said, before he took the first mouthful.

She met the challenge in his eyes. "Yes, we will. But not until you've dealt with
the situation at the telephone office. We'll both need to dedicate our full attention to our
discussion."

"Goddammit, Lulu, we're not going to hold a debate. We're going to talk about the
shape of our future."

"All the more reason for us to be calm, reasonable, and without other distractions,"
she said, keeping her voice steady. Last night had shown her she was still capable of
feeling passion, but there was more to a marriage than that. She had no intention of being
the sort of wife the outrageous article in the newspaper had advised.

He ate quickly." God only knows when I'll be back," he told her as he pushed his
empty bowl aside. "We're going to check out the whole system again, then ride each
line."

"I'll have something for supper that can be kept warm." She held out his coat, no
longer mud-coated. She'd brushed it last night before curling up to sleep in the upholstered
chair. "I'll be going to town later. Shall I bring your dinner by?"

"No, because I haven't any idea where I'll be at dinnertime." Before she could step
out of his way, he'd caught her to him in a tight embrace. "Thanks for understanding about
my work, Lulu. A lot of women would have been feeling neglected," he said into her
hair.

"That would have been short-sighted. We will be living on your salary for some
time to come." She tried to slip free, but before she could, he'd taken her mouth in a deep,
hungry kiss.

After an instant's resistance, she found herself melting against him. His lips were
hot, his tongue quick and exciting as it touched the sensitive tissues of her mouth. She
heard someone moan as he nipped her lower lip, and knew the sound had been hers. When
he loosed his embrace, she found herself clinging to him.

Slowly they pulled apart, yet their gazes remained locked together for a timeless
moment.

"Later," he said, his voice a hoarse half-whisper.

"Yes," she said, after licking lips that felt stiff and immovable. "Yes, later."

He was gone, then. Lulu sank into the chair he'd vacated, its wooden seat still
warm from his body. She propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in hands that
trembled from the intensity of the emotional storm within her.

"What is the matter with me?" she whispered to the empty kitchen. "Why do I
freeze up when he touches me sometimes, and fall into his arms others?"

There was no one to answer her.

After a while Lulu pushed herself upright and cleaned up the breakfast dishes. She
made the bed, tidied the parlor, and gathered their soiled clothing into a bundle.

Last night she'd brought a small gunny sack of grain home with her, knowing
there was none in the barn. There was some hay in a manger, old and musty, and fit only
for bedding, so she'd need to order some soon. More items for her to-do list. Her fingers
were numb when she'd finished mucking out the stall, even though the air was a bit warmer
than yesterday's. A thermometer went onto her mental shopping list shopping list too.

There were several Chinese laundries in town. Lulu had patronized Yu Meng's
Excellent Laundry more because she liked its name than any other reason. Service was
fast, the Chinese proprietor was friendly, and her linens came back looking new. "Good
morning, Mr. Yu," she said as she entered.

"Ah, you back. I wonder where you go," Mr. Yu said, with a smile. He accepted
the large bundle she handed him and opened it. "Not all yours, I think," he added, holding
up the filthy britches Tony had worn yesterday.

"No, some of it's my husband's." At his look of surprise, she nodded. "Yes, I am
indeed married. Mr. Dewitt, of the Hailey Telephone Exchange, is my husband."

"Ahhh." There was a wealth of comment in that drawn-out syllable, but for the life
of her, Lulu couldn't decipher it.

She took the chit Mr. Yu handed her. "Mr. Yu, do you know of any of your people
who are seeking work? I have need of a stableman and driver and a cook. I will pay five
dollars a week each, and board and room. Unfortunately, the only accommodation I can
provide is the barn, which is empty except for the horse and buggy. Perhaps whomever I
hire would be able to construct a room in the unused space."

He looked at her suspiciously. "We are being told to go from here. Perhaps no one
will work for you."

"Nonsense," she said, a bit more sharply than she intended. "They will not force
your people away from here if you stand fast. There are many of us in the area who believe
the anti-Chinese sentiment is the work of a few bigots of low intelligence." She crossed her
fingers as she spoke. For all she knew, she could be the only person in Wood River
opposed to the philosophy of the Anti-Chinese League. "I will be in town for several hours,
and will return here this afternoon to learn if anyone is interested in the employment I have
to offer."

"You will anger many," he warned, "and your husband will not be pleased."

Lulu had to smile at how much improved his command of English had become
during their conversation. "I have angered many people before this. The possibility does
not deter me. Mr. Dewitt will support my actions, I assure you." He'd better. She would
never forgive him if he did not. And she would tell Soomey on him.

"I will find them for you." He bowed. "It will be my pleasure."

She returned the bow, and they parted with smiles.

"Now, some furniture. I will not spend another day in that empty house." She
drove to Main Street and let the horse amble along as she looked for the sign she was sure
she'd seen several times, but paid no attention to. Sure enough there it was. E.A. White,
Furnishings. She left the horse and buggy at the livery stable and walked back to the
furniture store.