THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  "I think it's a great idea," Tony agreed, "if you can keep the noise and smoke from the smelters down." The big smelter up in Ketchum kept that end of the valley overcast on most days.

  "Oh, hell, the mining boom won't last forever. They never do. Look at the Boise Basin. All but dead. And I heard they're shutting down mines right and left in the Owyhees." He paused to contemplate the end of his cigar. "The way I see it, a smart man looks ahead, past whatever boom is going on. We've got to plan for the long haul, boy. For half a century and more."

  For a moment, Tony was caught up in his vision. What a challenge that might be, to help plan a magnificent resort. Maybe he did have a future here, even if it wasn't quite what he'd dreamed of.

  * * * *

  Monday Lulu sat down with her financial records and tried to estimate how much money she had to live on through the winter. Uncle Silas had helped her plan investments so she would have a steady, but small, income, but for the past while, she'd been taking out far more than she'd been putting in. The allowance from her parents was enough to provide her with clothing appropriate to her calling, but little else. She was entirely dependent on income from her writing and from speaking engagements to keep food on her table and a roof over her head. Thank goodness the rent on this apartment was part of her compensation for this job.

  This winter she had planned to travel less and to write more. The Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine paid well, and had been receptive to her articles before. Right now she had a humorous piece on Idaho gold camps all but finished. She'd outlined several other short pieces aimed at The Atlantic Monthly and The North American Review. And that new women's magazine--The Ladies' Home Journal--she was still hoping to hear from them on the short story she'd sent.

  The real question was whether she could afford to leave Hailey, or if she was going to have to stay here, in the same town as Tony. Where she'd see him daily, where sooner or later one of them would yield to temptation.

  The trouble was, there were few positions as world-saver that paid a living wage. She'd speak to Mrs. Duniway when she went to Portland next month. Perhaps it would be possible for her to move to Boise, now that Imajean was no longer active in the suffrage cause.

  She closed the inkwell and tidied her desk. In a few minutes she was ready to go to the telegraph office.

  DESPERATELY NEED ADVICE STOP HAVE YOU ROOM FOR A GUEST NEXT WEEK STOP LULU

  "Send it to Mrs. Lucas Savage at Eagle," she told the telegraph operator as she handed the form to him. Now, all I have to do is avoid Tony for a week. That should be easy. He's not apt to be at the grocer's, and I just won't go anywhere else.

  She drafted one article and finished the sweater for Micah that week. Her house was cleaner than it had ever been, and Mrs. Graham, her next door neighbor was well supplied with cookies. By Thursday, she was feeling penned in and her cupboard was all but bare. After speaking to Miss Petersham's class, she stopped at the market. Given the way she felt--miserable and filled with self-blame and regrets, she needed to do something to cheer herself up.

  She'd make a pot of soup, her mother's cure for whatever ailed one. Thick, meaty bean soup filled with chunks of ham, and crusty fresh bread to go with it. She bought ham hocks at the Eureka Market, then went on to the grocer's to get the beans. As she was coming out, the wind caught her skirt and swirled it about her calves. "Oh bother!" she cried, grabbing at the flapping fabric as she tried to hold on to her full basket, her still-dripping umbrella, and keep the door from slamming shut behind her, all at once.

  "Let me get that, ma'am," said a familiar voice. For an instant she actually considered brushing past him, as if he were a total stranger who'd offered offense. Just for an instant. "Thank you, Tao...Mr. Dewitt."

  "Always happy to oblige," he said, looking down at her with an evil light in his eye, "particularly when I get such a good view of a trim ankle." His voice was low, so no one else heard him.

  She felt like whacking him a good one. "Mind your manners!" she whispered. "I believe I can manage now," she said aloud.

  She tried to brush past him, but he blocked the way. "I was on my way out, Mr. Dewitt. So if you will excuse me?"

  "You'll drown." Looking down at her shoes, he said, "Where are your boots? Those dainty little things are about as useful as snowshoes in summer."

  "I hadn't realized it was raining so hard," she admitted. "But these are old shoes, so it doesn't matter."

  "It does if you freeze to death. Summer's over Lulu...I mean Miss King. Or have you forgotten how cold it can get in the mountains? I just heard it's snowing up in Ketchum."

  "Oh, dear. Then I'd better hurry home." She tried to dodge around him, but he stepped in her way.

  "I've got Mr. Eagleton's buggy. Let me give you a ride home."

  A shiver made its way up her spine, The gusty wind felt twenty degrees colder than when she'd walked to town. So even though she knew she ought to refuse, Lulu nodded. "Thank you. I'd be obliged."

  The buggy was parked no more than a few steps from where they stood, but even that seemed like a long way when the wind again caught her skirts and swirled about her legs. "Brrr. I think I'm very happy you're driving me. It's gotten much colder."

  Once they'd turned off Main street, he spoke. "Somehow I thought you'd be long gone by now."

  "I'd hoped to be, but there were several tasks I had to finish first. I'm leaving next week."

  "Oh? Back East?"

  "No, I'm going to spend some time with Katie and Luke, then go Portland for a month or so."

  "I hope you don't get stuck over there," he said. "I have a feeling winter's coming early this year."

  "One of my friends in Washington wrote that the weather is changing because of that volcano in the South Pacific. It spewed out so much dust that sunlight gets reflected away instead of reaching the ground."

  "Krakatau? I knew it was the cause of our colorful sunsets, but I hadn't thought about the other effects of the dust. Maybe I should have put off buying my bicycle."

  "A bicycle? Why on earth?"

  "I've moved into a place a couple of miles outside of town. Good road, and a bicycle's less work to take care of than a horse." He pulled the buggy to a halt before her house. "Here you are. Next time dress for the weather."

  "I will. Thank you, Tony. I would have frozen, walking home."

  He stepped down and helped her to the ground. Sill holding her hand, he said, softly, "Take care of yourself, Lulu. Please."

  She looked up at him, seeing more in his eyes than simple friendship. "You too."

  Quickly she pulled her hand free and walked to her door. When she was safely inside, she turned and leaned her forehead against the solid wood.

  "This will never work. I've got to go away. I've got to."

  Chapter Nine

  Now is the time to supply yourself with coal oil. May, Krieg & Co. have just received a car-load of the best water-white safety 175 degree fire test which is going off like hot cakes.

  Wood River Times

  ~~~

  A small package came to the office on Friday, addressed to Tony. It bore no indication of the sender, although it had not come from the Post Office. Curious he opened it.

  Inside were the britches he'd worn the night of the fire, mended and clean, but riddled with small holes. The enclosed note said only, I tried to fix these. You might want them for rough work. Take care. It was signed with the looping "L" he remembered from their childhood. A faint hint of the flower scent she wore clung to the linen notepaper. He pressed it to his lips and sat for a long time.

  He had no regrets. Making love to her had been right. Perhaps the rightest thing he had ever done.

  No, he had one regret. That she didn't share his sense of inevitability. Tony knew there would be...could be no other woman for him.

  Maybe he shouldn't have gone away, that night she'd first refused to marry him, so long ago. If he'd stayed, he could have worn her down.

  Or could he? Lulu defined stu
bborn. He had never known anyone to change her mind, once it was made up. A memory arose, one that made him smile. There had been a summer when the boys had built a fortress, up on the hillside behind the Lachlan cabin. They had sworn to each other that no women were allowed inside. In mingled blood they'd taken the oath. He still had the small scar on his left forearm to prove it.

  Regina hadn't cared, for she'd never liked sleeping outdoors or cooking over an open fire, which were the two major charms of the fortress, with its leaky roof and dusty floor. But Lulu had been furious that they'd excluded her. She' d vowed to make them let her join their brotherhood, called them chauvinists--a word they had never heard and thought a vile insult. When they persisted in excluding her, she'd taken to sabotage. One morning they'd awakened and found themselves walled in. Another day they'd gone to the fortress and found a dead skunk across the entrance. The worst prank had been the ants. Somehow she had dug up the better part of an anthill and carried it to the fortress in a leather bag. The boys hadn't seen the ants when they'd gone to bed in the summer twilight. The next morning they had discovered their beds infested with ants seeking the sweet cake crumbs she'd tucked into every blanket.

  Uncle William had interfered before they could drown her.

  Now he laughed, despite the ache in his heart. Life with Lulu would never be dull.

  He pressed the paper against his lips once more, then laid it carefully in the box that had held his britches.

  Life with Lulu? If only he could....

  * * * *

  Lulu caught the train on Monday, having made arrangements to be away until the first of the year. She had one speaking engagement scheduled in Baker City the middle of October. From there, she planned to go directly to Portland, where she would help with the production of The New Northwest while Mrs. Duniway was on a speaking tour and attending a conference. She felt a certain trepidation at the prospect of being responsible for the weekly newspaper, but was thrilled at the same time to know Mrs. Duniway trusted her to do a good job. Perhaps while her mind was occupied, her emotional confusion would untangle itself and she would resolve her conflicting feelings about Tony.

  Mr. Teller advised her to keep her apartment. "I probably wouldn't get it rented anyhow, not before spring. And you'll be coming back, won't you?" Imajean added her entreaty, reminding Lulu she did still have a job, even though there would be little work for her until spring.

  Not having to put her few possessions into storage was a relief. After due reflection, she had decided that leaving permanently would be too much like running away. Surely she and Tony could learn to behave as civilized adults, without letting their emotions complicate matters. She liked this valley, with mountains on every side, liked the bustle of town and the absolute silence only a few miles away. Someday she would move on, but not yet.

  The train slowed as it approached Shoshone, her transfer point for Boise. As she checked to make sure she had everything, she sighed. Yes, I have to decide what to do. I hope Katie has some good advice for me.

  * * * *

  Once the telephone lines reached Bellevue and Bullion, Tony was kept too busy to think about Lulu. Except for the last thing at night. And when he was driving to one place or another. He still found himself watching for her, listening for her, hoping she'd step around a corner or call out to him. Until he heard from one of the fellows in the Eureka Market that she'd left on the Monday train.

  Even after that, she crept into his thoughts whenever he stopped keeping his mind busy.

  One of his headaches was teaching people to use the telephone. He'd showed every one of the subscribers how, but they still were having trouble. In desperation, he had a small card of instructions printed up and sent one to each subscriber, asking them to pin it to the wall next their telephones.

  RULES

  To call the central office, give one ring, then take the telephone off the hook and as soon as the central office operator shouts "Halloa!" ask for the number desired. Then as soon as the operator says you are connected, hang up the telephone and ring again.

  Converse in an ordinary tone of voice, standing about eight inches from transmitter.

  When through talking, party calling for connection will give one sharp ring for disconnection.

  The telephone should not be used during a thunderstorm.

  Now he could only hope everyone would follow the instructions.

  The line to Bullion developed problems the day after service to the isolated mining community began. Of course it would be that line. Bullion lay up a canyon about eight miles from Hailey, but it was a steep, narrow eight miles. They'd set the poles on the slopes above the road, because there wasn't any level ground to dig in.

  Once again the weather complicated the matter. Snow now sat deep on the hilltops and the snowline came lower every day. The old-timers swore winter had never come earlier, and Tony believed it. Leaves still lingered on the cottonwoods along the river and littered the crusty snow underneath.

  He tested the switchboard first, then went to Bullion. The wires between the road and the mine office had been torn loose from the pole. It looked as if someone had done it deliberately. When questioned, the shift boss denied that anyone at his mine would do such a thing. "We'd be crazy to mess with the telephone. It'll save us sending a man to town whenever we need supplies."

  Once everything else was working, Tony still couldn't get through to the switchboard from Bullion. He spent a couple of cold, wet days climbing poles. He tested each connection between two wires, tested the circuit at every pole. At last he isolated the source of the problem, a disconnection between two wires halfway up the canyon. He anchored one wire to the pole with a staple, because gusts of wind were making it whip furiously, probably the cause of the loose connection.

  Wearily he drove back to the mine and called the switchboard. With relief, he heard the operator say, "Who are you calling?"

  He reported that the line was in working order and rang off. "Keep an eye on the wire," he told the shift boss. "Pass the word. I won't always be able to come up here and fix it."

  It was full dark when he drove into Hailey at last. He turned the horse and wagon into the livery stable and tipped the hostler to take care of them. Wearily he walked to the office. His new bicycle leaned against the wall behind his desk but he just looked at it. The cot was still in the storeroom. And tomorrow was Sunday. He would go home and clean up in the morning.

  * * * *

  The first two days after Lulu arrived at the Savage ranch, she and Katie caught up on family news, played with the children, and drove around the ranch. On the third day, Luke took Charlie and Melanie with him to check fences. So Lulu had no more excuses not to ask for the advice she'd come for.

  She began at the beginning. No, not at the beginning, for she'd never told anyone, not even Regina, of that night before he'd ridden away from Cherry Vale without saying goodbye, of how Tony had dismissed her dreams as less valuable than his own.

  She began when she'd first stepped off the train in Hailey and he was there. Haltingly she told of their few meetings. Of his ill-advised 'rescue' of her at the Fourth of July celebration. Of the night she told him to go away, to get out of her life.

  "I couldn't turn him away," she said, when she'd finally got to the point where Tony had arrived at her door, burned, exhausted, and about as welcome as an undertaker at a wedding. "He's family."

  "Of course you couldn't. I hope he wasn't too badly burned."

  "More painful than serious, I think." She stirred her tea, although it had gotten too cold to drink. The swirling surface told her nothing. "Actually, it's what happened later that I need advice about." She couldn't look up, couldn't meet Katie's eyes.

  For an eternity the only sound in the kitchen was the soft scrape of her spoon against the cup. "You made love with him, didn't you?" Katie said at last.

  Lulu nodded.

  "Well, good! It's about time!"

  Stunned, Lulu looked up to see her cousin
grinning. "I don't--"

  "Oh, Lulu, you two are meant for each other. I've known that ever since you were about ten years old. So has the rest of the family. And until he went off to college, we all thought it was inevitable." She reached across the table and took both of Lulu's hands in her own. "Soomey's been hoping to be a grandmother for ten years. Your mother lives in constant fear that you'll bring home some Eastern swell. And my mother thinks you're crazy."

  She chuckled. "Of course, Ma believes no woman is complete without children, so that might have something to do with it."

  Distracted from her own confusion, Lulu said, "I've told everyone, time and again, that I won't ever marry. I don't know why they won't believe me." Her own parents, for all their strong support of her work, were the worst of the lot. Nearly every letter asked about her social life. She'd gotten so she skipped those questions and never answered them.

  "Mamma wants grandchildren too. But I'm not her only hope. There's Gabe. But he's so darned busy playing spy, he hasn't time for women."

  Laughing, Katie said, "Oh, I don't know. The last letter I got from Buff said Gabe had fought a duel over a woman. And Uncle Silas told us, last Christmas when he was here, that Gabe was squiring around a countess or some such. A rich widow, anyhow. Sounds to me as if he's got plenty of time for women. He just isn't interested in settling down with only one."

  "A duel? My quiet, gentlemanly brother?" Lulu had to laugh, too. "Swords or pistols?"

  "Buff didn't say." Katie lifted the cozy and tested the heat of the teapot. "There's about enough for two more cups."

  Lulu scooted her cup across the table. "It was a mistake," she said when she'd dribbled honey into the tea. "I should never have done it."

  "Was it wonderful?"

  "No, It was..." She saw Katie's raised eyebrow and realized she had to tell the truth. "It was...more than wonderful. I never realized it could be like that. Almost as if we were one person. I felt...I don't know. Safe. Complete. Loved.