"I've been jeered at before. I've been harassed, shouted down, physically removed from a stage, plastered with rotten fruit, and struck by thrown bottles, stones, and even a shoe. But never--"
Her fists were clenched as she leaned forward and held his gaze. "Tony, I have never been humiliated the way I was that day. I told you not to worry, that it wasn't important, but it was! You diminished my stature, made me seem weak and feminine. I will not...cannot tolerate that. The goals I work toward, equal rights for all Americans and universal suffrage, are too important to be undermined because you have chivalrous instincts.
"So go away, Tony. Stay away. Let me live my life the way I choose. Find yourself a woman who wants to be taken care of.
"I don't."
For a moment she wavered in her resolve, when she saw the boy she'd loved peering through the eyes of the man. Only for a moment. This was best for both of them.
It was. It really was.
* * * *
Lulu answered the door, wishing she'd said no instead of yes Sunday afternoon when he'd asked her to the ball. "Good evening, Mr. Correy."
"Good evening." He bowed and held out a small nosegay. "These are for you."
Touched, Lulu accepted the flowers and buried her nose in them. Sweet Williams and asters. "How thoughtful. Thank you." Lacking a vase, she filled a pretty cream pitcher with water and set the nosegay in it on the table beside her rocking chair.
They walked the few blocks to the livery stable where they boarded a stake-bed wagon fitted with seats to accommodate twenty or so people. It gradually filled, and soon they were on their way to Ketchum. "I trust your latest journey was fruitful," Mr. Correy commented, once they were moving.
"Very much so. Women in the West are determined to win the right to vote."
He cleared his throat. "Miss King, I know you and Mrs. Teller believe in your cause, but do you...do you honestly believe most women are capable of voting intelligently? After all, few have the education you have, and even fewer have such superior understanding."
As always, Lulu had to choose her words carefully. It was so easy to alienate those who were only mildly disapproving. "Mr. Correy, how many men do you know who have your education or superior understanding?"
She saw the flash of his teeth in the twilight. "Thank you. Knowing one's companion considers one to be intelligent is gratifying."
"You are welcome." She waited. When he said no more, she said, "Mr. Correy, you didn't answer my question. Do you honestly believe all men are qualified to cast an intelligent vote?"
"Well, I..." He cleared his throat. "Put that way, I suppose not. But we men, by our very nature, are better suited to governance. It is our duty, our privilege, to do what is best for weaker members of our society."
He sounded so pompous and so certain that Lulu knew further argument would do no good. She made a noncommittal noise and resigned herself to playing the delicate flower this evening.
After hearing his opinion, what she would like to do was jump out of this wagon and run home, where a good book and jasmine tea would suit her far more than an evening of dancing and pretending to enjoy herself with a man who obviously thought of her as witless.
A comment by one of her early mentors came to mind. You must do all you can to convince them you are neither a hoyden nor a revolutionary. Winning this particular battle will depend strongly on our being perceived as logical, rational, and civilized.
So she'd behave as a lady tonight, and not accept any future invitations from Frank Correy. Nice as he otherwise seemed, he was not a man who, upon further acquaintance, was likely to become converted.
The first person she saw when she and Mr. Correy entered the Coffin Brothers' Hall was Tony. He was dancing with a pretty little blonde girl, smiling down on her as if she was the only person in the room. Good. I'm glad he's not pining away for me. She did her best to ignore him, but it seemed as if every time she turned around, there he was.
Standing with Mr. Correy's friend, Patrick Newell, at the refreshment table after a particularly energetic polka, she fanned herself with her hand and said, "I'm really enjoying myself. There's been little time in my life for play, these past few years."
Mr. Newell's eyebrow went up. "Oh? Have you been so busy promoting the cause of women's suffrage, then?" Had his lip curled along with his eyebrow?
"No, I--" Lulu wasn't sure she wanted to reveal exactly what her previous job had been. He impressed her as having little sympathy for the less fortunate. "I was working for a...a relief society, helping people who had been displaced find new homes."
"Really? How noble of you." His drawling tone dismissed her efforts and told her he didn't care to learn more.
If only she could simply abandon him to the punchbowl. Unfortunately she had better manners. Before she could think of an innocuous topic of conversation, Tony and the pretty blonde girl joined them.
"Hello Lulu," he said. "Miss Hathaway, have you met Miss King?" He merely nodded at Mr. Newell.
The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, you're that 'Votes for Women' person. How brave you are, speaking out as you do."
"I hope what I said struck a chord, Miss Hathaway. I'm delighted to meet you."
"Oh, yes, me too. I mean, I'm pleased to meet you, Miss King." She recited the polite words in a soft little voice, ending with a giggle.
Lulu looked to Tony and lifted her brows in question. How old is this child? she wanted to say. Instead she compensated for his bad manners. "Mr. Newell, may I present Miss Hathaway?"
"Charmed, I'm sure."
With a great show of eyelash fluttering and another soft giggle, Miss Hathaway allowed Mr. Newell to kiss her hand.
Lulu noticed Tony was not pleased. Was he truly smitten with this child? She hoped not. He deserved better.
Is that a bit of the green-eyed monster speaking? Of course it wasn't. She didn't want Tony for herself, so why should she resent his interest in other women?
Mr. Newell gave Miss Hathaway a far more charming smile than any he'd wasted on Lulu. "Are you engaged for the next dance?"
When the girl accepted, Mr. Newell said to Lulu, "Since you and Mr. Dewitt are old friends, I trust I can leave you safely in his care?" Without waiting for a reply, he led Miss Hathaway to the dance floor.
"Well, I guess he put me in my place," Lulu said, more amused than insulted at his discourtesy. She glanced at Tony, inviting him to share her amusement.
His scowl showed her how unfunny he found Mr. Newell's behavior. "Somebody needs to teach him some manners," he muttered.
"Oh, come now. Miss Hathaway is the prettiest girl here. He's probably smitten."
"That's no excuse." He stared at the couple, who had walked across the floor and were standing by the stage. Newell was speaking to the orchestra leader. "I suppose we could dance too," he said, without looking at Lulu.
"Don't do me any favors. It's not as if there aren't a dozen men here who'd enjoy dancing with me."
"Oh, hell, Lulu, you know I'd enjoy dancing with you. But you told me to go away, so I didn't reckon you'd want to."
"I don't, particularly, but I'll be darned if I want to stand here without a partner." Mr. Correy had disappeared, and joining the line of chaperones and wallflowers didn't appeal to her one bit. "I'll dance with you," she said, knowing her reluctance was plain in her tone.
He gave her his arm and led her to the dance floor just as the first bars of music were played.
Oh, no! It's a waltz!
His hand on her back was warm. As he swung her in a circle, she realized he was a graceful dancer, sure and strong. Her eyes were at the level of his shoulders, and she concentrated on the decorative stitching of his lapel. It was far less distracting than thinking about the faint, spicy scent of him, so different from the bay rum Mr. Correy had anointed himself with.
"What made you come with Frank Correy tonight? He's way too young for you."
She pulled back so she could look up at him. "Too young? Nonsense. He's tw
enty-three."
"And you've just turned twenty-eight. Does he know?"
"Tony, I'm not going to marry the man, for heaven's sake. He invited me to the dance, and I came. That's all." He dipped and spun, catching Lulu by surprise. For a brief instant their bodies were pressed closely together. Lulu's breath seemed to catch in her chest.
To hide her reaction, she said, "I have to admit I'm disappointed in him. I'd thought he was more open-minded, from his remarks last summer. Now I realize his notions about a woman's place are every bit as old-fashioned and short-sighted as yours. But he is a good dancer, and I've enjoyed myself."
They danced in silence for several minutes. "I'm not old-fashioned. Women should have the vote."
Once again she pulled back to look at him. His jaw was set and his mouth firm. But his eyes, as they looked down into hers, were warm and friendly. "They should? I mean you really believe...?"
"Of course I do. I'd be stupid not to. Great God, Lulu, with women like Aunt Hattie and Soomey and your ma around, how could I not believe?"
"But you seemed--"
"I'm not against what you do, so much as against you doing it. It's damn dangerous, and I keep thinking of all the fixes you could get yourself into. You're a revolutionary, Lulu, and that's not conducive to a long and comfortable life."
"Oh, pooh! You make it sound as if I'm in constant danger." I wonder what he'd say if I told him about North Carolina.
"Not constant, no. But I still have nightmares about that rock almost hitting you, on the Fourth. Sooner or later you're going to get hurt."
Soberly she looked up at him. He was honestly concerned about her safety, and the knowledge should please her. Instead it worried her, given the way he wanted to keep everyone he loved safe from all harm.
"There are no guarantees in life, Tao...Tony. You could walk across the street and get run down by a freight wagon tonight. Or I could be in a train wreck. Or choke on a bone at dinner tomorrow. Anything could happen."
"Yes, but there's no need to go out looking for danger."
"I don't. I take the greatest of care to avoid disputative situations. I've dedicated my life to the achievement of universal suffrage and equal rights in America, but I won't die for either cause."
The music ended then, which was a good thing. She might have said something she'd have later regretted.
Tony walked her to the opposite side of the room where Mr. Newell and Miss Hathaway waited, clearly in great charity with one another. With them was Mr. Correy, who apologized for having disappeared. "I stepped outside for some fresh air," he admitted. Lulu heard the slight slurring of his words and was unsurprised. With no alcohol allowed in the hall, the young men who were without partners generally went out to take a nip or three.
He seemed in command of his faculties, though, so she said nothing.
Mr. Newell relinquished Miss Hathaway to Tony. "What a nice girl she is," Lulu said, watching the young woman cling to Tony's arm as they walked away, "but very young." She didn't mean it as a criticism, merely as an observation.
"Youth is not to be disparaged, Miss King. I found her refreshingly naïve and agreeable."
Yes, you would. Aloud she said, "I'm sure she is agreeable, Mr. Newell. And so pretty too." Lulu wondered what time it was. All of a sudden, she was weary and wanted only to remove her shoes and loosen her corset.
As if they'd read her mind, the orchestra struck up "Good Night Ladies." Lulu forced herself to smile up at Frank Correy and take his hand when he said, "Shall we go?"
During the long trip back to Hailey, he said, "I hope you and Patrick got along. He has become my particular friend. Such a well-spoken, interesting gentleman. I wish I could dance as gracefully as he does."
"He is a good dancer," Lulu said, not sure she could agree with anything else. "We had little opportunity to speak, dancing the reel."
"My impression was that there was some strain between you. Did he offend you in any way?"
She got the impression he would defend her honor if need be. "Of course not. I'm merely somewhat tired, after all the traveling I've done. My enthusiasm for anything but a good night's sleep seems to have flown."
They spoke little after that. She suspected the liquor he'd drunk was making him sleepy, but to his credit, he remained awake, if not alert, throughout the thirteen-mile journey back to Hailey.
At the door of her apartment he said, "Thank you for a pleasant evening, Miss King. Perhaps you will allow me to see you again."
"I would enjoy that very much, Mr. Correy. Thank you for an entertaining evening." She stepped back, held out her hand for him to shake.
He bowed over her proffered hand. His lips barely brushed the skin.
At least he hadn't tried to really kiss her.
Chapter Five
The brick and stone work of the first story or basement of the new Court House was completed yesterday. The force will commence work the first of next week on the water table upon which the second story will be built.
Wood River News-Miner
~~~
Heaven was supposed to be a reward for a life of good works and moral virtue. For Lulu, heaven was the week she spent in Portland, meeting with local and regional suffrage workers, assisting Abigail Scott Duniway with correspondence, and generally making herself useful. Mrs. Duniway was so pleased with her work that she asked Lulu to return in a few weeks when she would be absent on a speaking tour. As Lulu was waiting to board the upriver steamer, she said, "I must say I'm pleased you've stepped into the void in Idaho and Montana, Miss King. With your able assistance, we will see women voting throughout the Northwest before many years have elapsed. Perhaps we will see women enfranchised in Idaho's constitution, when statehood is declared."
Lulu was elated and humbled, all at once. At the same time, she continued to worry that perhaps some of the people involved in the suffrage movement might be forgetting that women were not the only Americans whose civil rights were being withheld, by law or custom. Laws, even amendments to the Constitution, did not guarantee equal treatment if they were not enforced.
As the stage carried her through the Blue Mountains, she saw signs that winter would soon be here. Frost had left patches of brilliant yellow and red on the hillsides. Dry, golden bunchgrasses blew in the wind and the tamarack needles were starting to turn. Soon travel would become difficult. A small part of her looked forward to staying in one place for weeks on end. There was a stack of unread books waiting for her in Hailey, and a snug little apartment she itched to turn into a home.
She made speeches in Payette, Caldwell, and Boise, where she stopped over to visit her almost-cousin. Regina Lachlan was living in her parents' big house while they traveled, and was already eager for them to return. "I rattle around in here, even though I've got the upstairs closed off."
"What you need is a housemate," Lulu said, "or a husband."
"A husband? You think I need a husband? The self-proclaimed spinster?"
"Just because I don't intend to marry doesn't mean I don't think other women should." Lulu took another of the delicious pastries she'd bought in a little bakery uptown. "I always expected you to marry early, and here you are, twenty-seven and still single. What's wrong with Idaho men?"
"When I find a man as decent and strong as Pa, or your father, I'll marry. Not until." Regina whisked the plate of pastries out of Lulu's reach. "Enough! You said these were for breakfast."
"Oh, but they're so delicious." Licking her fingers, one by one, Lulu pretended to pout.
Indolence felt just fine, she thought the next day, as she still lay abed at midmorning. How long had it been since she'd had a holiday? A real one, when she could read all night and sleep all day if she wanted to?
Somehow there never seemed to be time. When she had been in the South, she always felt as if she was working against time, that the powder keg of resentment and rage left from Reconstruction was due to explode at any time. As it had the night the Klan came to Reverend Thomas's chur
ch.
"No! " she told herself, eyes tightly shut against remembered horror, "don't think about it."
But the visions remained, hovering at the edge of her thoughts. When Regina came home from school, they went riding along the river road. The wind in her hair, the taste of dust, and the laughter she could not contain banished everything but pure joy.
The next morning Regina went off to teach young ladies the principles of natural history and chemistry, dropping Lulu off at the stage station on the way. As the big coach rocked and swayed through the sagebrush desert, she relaxed and allowed herself to contemplate having time enough at home to hang her pictures, finish the sweater she'd been knitting for almost a year, and even read a book or two simply for pleasure.
* * * *
Everything was in place. The waterwheel was operating smoothly, generating power to keep the batteries charged. The switchboard was wired in, with its big wet cells charged and ready for the first calls. Tuesday he'd deliver the last of the batteries to subscribers, then he'd test the entire system one last time. Tony sat back in his chair, wondering what he'd forgotten.
He had twelve businesses hooked up, and five to go. The crews were setting poles and stringing wire to Bullion and Bellevue. As soon as those two towns were connected, he'd start them on the line to Ketchum. Jack Denman, the daytime operator, was trained, although Tony still had reservation about putting someone so young in such a responsible position. Two substitute operators were also ready to go, one the printer's devil at the Wood River Times where the switchboard was set up, the other a fellow who claimed to have worked at the telephone exchange in Atlanta. Tony was skeptical, but he'd seemed to know what he was doing, so they'd hired him to work on Sundays. Eagleton wanted a second night operator too, but Tony had convinced him to wait until business warranted paying another man. The one they had now would probably sleep soundly most nights.
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