THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  Tony stood too. He stuck out his hand. "Thanks, Luke. For the advice and...and for not giving me hell."

  "We men've got to stick together. You'll get enough hell from Regina, I reckon. And I don't even want to think about when the folks get home." He pulled Tony into a bear hug. "Congratulations. And good luck."

  "Yeah, thanks. I think I'm going to need it."

  * * * *

  Regina didn't even wait until they had their coats off. "How could you! My God, Tony, I can't believe you'd be so irresponsible!" In her schoolmarm getup, she was about the most formidable woman Tony had ever encountered. She lacked but an inch of his height. Her slim body and the coils of golden hair piled on her head made her appear far taller. He briefly considered turning and running.

  "I..."

  "Let him be, Regina," Lulu said. "He didn't force me to do anything I didn't want. If the truth be told, I all but seduced him." She made shooing motions with her hands and Tony took the hint. If Lulu was willing to face Regina in his stead, he'd take the coward's way out. "I'm going out to talk to Abel," he said. The stableman hadn't been around when they'd arrived. Tony was sure he'd recognize Luke's mules, but warning him of the others coming Thursday was a good excuse to leave the women alone.

  "Bring Abel to supper," Lulu told him as he put on his coat," and ask him if he'll ride out to Merlin's place tomorrow."

  "I'll do that," he agreed, as he escaped.

  At least Lulu was in a better frame of mind. She'd been cheerful on the trip into town, although she had spoken nothing but trivialities. At the courthouse she smilingly accepted the congratulations of the clerk who sold them the license. When they stopped by the rectory next to the church the Lachlans attended, she explained with perfect truth that they were due back in Hailey by Monday and so the wedding had to take place Thursday. He'd been braced to endure the preacher's disapproval and to keep silent while Reverend Archibald lectured him on the wages of concupiscence. Instead he stood dumb while the preacher shook his hand and congratulated him.

  Shaking his head, Tony crossed the snowy yard to the barn. Luke was right. Women were indeed notional creatures.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE SPENCER HOUSE, Shoshone

  This is the only first-class hotel in Shoshone. It is located opposite the depot, where trains stop for meals.

  F.W. Spence,

  Proprietor

  Wood River Times - occasional advertisement

  ~~~

  "It's a good thing Katie left it here," Regina said, holding up the satin gown, on its padded hanger. "Otherwise you might have been married in your shift."

  Lulu had to smile. "I'm not bringing much else to this marriage, so that might have been appropriate. Isn't that a sign the woman has nothing but herself to offer her husband?"

  "Something like that." After laying the gown on the bed, Regina went back to the big mahogany wardrobe. "There should be..." she said, as she stuck her head inside. "Yes, here it is." She emerged with another hanger, this one holding a linen-wrapped bundle. "Here's the bustle and train. Now as for a veil--"

  "I don't need a veil. One of your mother's hats will do me fine."

  "We'll have to see what she has. Or we could put something together out of ribbon and silk flowers. What about shoes?"

  "I'm afraid what I brought with me will have to do," Lulu told her. "I'd never get my big feet into Katie's shoes."

  "And you'd step right out of mine," Regina agreed. "Now, then, I've got Mrs. Petrie pressing your gray faille for your going-away outfit. What about a nightgown?"

  A fluttering in her belly reminded Lulu of what her wedding night would bring. "I hardly think I need a pretty nightgown. Isn't that something like putting bait into the trap after it's sprung?"

  "Lulu, whatever's happened before, tomorrow will be the only wedding night you'll ever have. You might as well enjoy it." Regina's mouth twisted as she turned away.

  "Oh, Regina, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you--"

  "It's not important. I'm silly to keep hoping." Briskly she replaced the clothing they'd removed from the wardrobe, all but the elegant periwinkle satin gown Katie had bought when they'd gone back to Boston four years ago. Since she'd been expecting Melanie, the gown had been made with darts that could be let out at the waist. Now it would serve as Lulu's wedding gown.

  "My brother is the world's greatest fool," Lulu muttered, as she handed Regina the last of the clothing. "He's had five years to sow his wild oats. It's time he came home and settled down."

  "I doubt Gabe will ever settle down, not as long as he believes in what he's doing." Picking up the gown, Regina led the way out of the bedroom. "I'm the one who said no, remember? I simply could not live with knowing my husband might disappear and I'd never know what happened to him."

  Lulu heard the unspoken plea, and changed the subject. "Katie says her latest letter from your folks came from Cairo. I'll bet they're having the time of their lives. I can hardly wait to hear from Mamma." Poor Regina. She's the one who should be getting married today, not me. I never wanted a husband and a family. She does.

  They carried all the clothing to the master bedroom on the ground floor. Mrs. Petrie came in just after them, carrying Lulu's gray suit, pressed and spot cleaned, looking almost new. She took the periwinkle gown and its train, promising to have it pressed before she went home for the night. "It'll take some care," she said. "Satin don't like to let go its wrinkles."

  "Now then, let's see what we can do about a hat," Regina said, pulling several hatboxes from the top shelf of a deep closet. "You look in the top drawer. I know she's got some ribbons and flowers in there."

  * * * *

  At two in the afternoon, Lulu followed Regina down the wide stairs. The periwinkle satin gown rustled as she descended. Butterflies filled her belly and a tightness in her throat made swallowing difficult. Tony and I are getting married, she told herself. It's really happening. The music, unrecognizable when she'd started down the stairs, resolved itself into the Wedding March from A Midsummer Night's Dream. She matched her slow pace to its tempo as she crossed the hall and entered the parlor.

  The room, which had been all too small when filled with the families at Christmas and other gatherings, now seemed enormous. The fireplace, before which Tony, Merlin and Reverend Archibald awaited her, was impossibly distant. Her feet felt as if they were caught in some sticky substance. Each step took an enormous effort.

  Tony's face was pale, his mouth set. His stance was stiff, as if he stayed in place by sheer effort of will. I do believe he's as scared as I am, Lulu realized, and was comforted by the thought. A few more steps and she was beside him. One of his eyebrows lifted, a silent question. She nodded slightly, vowing to do her best to make this marriage succeed, even though she still feared they were making a terrible mistake.

  The music died away. The minister cleared his throat. Lulu had an insane urge to turn and run. Instead, she forced herself to stand quietly as Reverend Archibald began, "Dearly beloved..."

  She spoke when prompted, repeated words that had no meaning to a mind spinning with what-ifs and if-onlies. As if in a daze, she heard someone say"...man and wife." Startled, she looked up into Tony's face, a familiar face, yet a stranger's. His expression was serious, yet exultant. He caught her face between his two hands, held her while he kissed her gently. "It'll be all right," he whispered, before releasing her.

  The next few minutes were chaotic, as Lulu was firmly kissed by Luke and Merlin, pecked on the cheek by Abel and each of the Savage boys, and congratulated by Reverend Archibald. Then the women all had to hug her.

  "Mamma, can I wear that dress when I get married?" she heard Lucy ask, just as Melanie tugged on her skirt. She looked down at the little girl.

  "Aunt Lulu, now you and Uncle Tony are married, are you going to have a baby?" The child's voice carried, drowning out every other voice in the room. Reverend Archibald and his wife, who'd played the piano, both turned to look at her.

 
"Melanie!" Katie's face was scarlet.

  "Yes, sweetheart, we'll probably have at least one baby," Lulu forced herself to say. "Does that make you happy?"

  "Only if you let me play with it," the child said. "It's not fair Lucy got to play with me and all I get is silly old dolls."

  The laughter that filled the room relieved the tension. Nonetheless, when the minister and his wife took their leave, pleading other obligations, Lulu noticed they both eyed her thickened waistline.

  Get used to it, she told herself. You'll see a lot of that in the next while.

  * * * *

  Although Luke had offered to take his family and Regina to a hotel so Tony and Lulu could be alone tonight, Tony had refused to allow him to do so. "This house is big enough so we won't even notice you're here." Now he wasn't sure he'd done the right thing. Each time Katie or Regina said something about the late hour, Lulu would start chattering again. He was greatly relieved when Luke said, at a quarter to nine, "These folks have had a busy day. Let's let them get some sleep."

  Tony knew his ears had gone bright red, but he did his best to keep a straight face. In no time at all, Luke had herded the women upstairs. Tony and Lulu were alone in the parlor.

  "I'll wait here while you get ready for bed," Tony said, not quite looking at her.

  "Oh, I'm not a bit sleepy," she said brightly. "You go ahead."

  "Lulu, it's our wedding night. I think we should go to bed together."

  "But--" she looked up at him, her face showing something closer to fear than he'd ever seen there before. "Yes, you're right." She rose, walked to the doorway, and turned. "I won't be long. Ten minutes?"

  He nodded. As she disappeared, he let out the breath he hadn't been aware of holding. Right now he felt as unsure of himself as he ever had.

  He wanted her. God! How he wanted her.

  * * * *

  Lulu's fingers were clumsy as she undressed. This whole day she had seemed to be caught up in an unstoppable current, being carried to an unknown destination.

  No, that was wrong. She knew her destination, and it was one she'd never have chosen for herself.

  She hung the gown carefully on its padded hanger, unable to resist stroking the slick fabric. Lulu generally avoided satin for her own clothing, mostly because it was so easily stained and wrinkled so badly. While she strived to always look stylish and attractive, she chose her wardrobe for how well it resisted wrinkling and how easy it was to clean. Of course, she also wanted to look dignified and businesslike. Her diminutive size and mop of curls were a definite disadvantage, so she had always avoided overly feminine clothing.

  A secret part of her had yearned for lace and silk and ruffles.

  As she removed her underclothing, she wondered if perhaps she hadn't gone too far in the direction of practicality. Would hidden lace and ruffles have done any harm? This embroidered corset cover, for instance, or the petticoat with its lace insertions and deep ruffle cascading from the waist all the way to the hem in back--who would have known she was wearing them?

  Naked, she turned to the pier glass between the windows and examined herself. Her breasts were... full-blown was the only word for them. Her belly was round, although not so large as it would be. As she watched, the shape of it changed, and she felt the unmistakable movement of her child.

  "Oh, baby, what have I done to you?" she whispered, laying her hands on the small mound. A soft ripple answered her, as if the child understood her confusion. "I'll do my best," she vowed. "I'll be a good mother, I promise."

  And she would, for all her reluctance to be a mother had dissolved the first time she had felt the life within her body, the life she was responsible for.

  It was being a good wife she wasn't sure about. It was a role she had never planned for, a role she didn't want to play. How could she lay aside the life she had chosen to be a simple housewife in a small town in Idaho?

  A gentle rapping on the door made her realize she had been standing naked before the mirror for several minutes, long enough to chill. "Just a moment," she called. She shivered as she walked to the bed where the nightgown of every romantic maiden's dreams lay.

  The delicate lawn fabric was all but transparent. Airy lace frothed around the deeply cut neckline and along the hem, matching the insertions in the Empire bodice. When she picked it up, she might have been lifting a fragment of cloud. Where on earth had Katie found it, on such short notice?

  Carefully she slipped it on and turned again to the mirror. "Good grief!" A few moments ago, standing here naked, she had merely been an unclothed, pregnant woman. Now she was a voluptuous wanton, a seductress. Heat blossomed in her cheeks, and before she could reach the bed, she felt as if she was blushing all over. Scrambling under the covers, she pulled them all the way to her neck. "Come in," she called, her voice breaking between the words.

  Tony stepped inside, set his candle on the table beside the door. He went to the screen in the corner without looking at her. The sounds of his undressing only exacerbated the churning in her belly, until she wondered if she might not be sick before he came to bed.

  When he did emerge, he was wearing a nightshirt that strained across his wide shoulders and barely covered his knees. As she watched him approach from under lowered eyelids, she had the insane urge to giggle. While she looked like a refugee from a bordello, he looked ridiculous. "What do you usually wear to bed?" she asked, before she could stop the words.

  "Nothing," he said, as he flipped back the covers and sat on the edge of the mattress, "and I'll be damned if I'm wearing this any longer." He stripped the nightshirt off and tossed it across the room.

  Lulu felt the bed sag as he lay down beside her and resisted sliding toward him. When his arm brushed hers, she twitched away from him, then forced herself to relax.

  She tried to relax, anyhow. Fully aware of the weight of him beside her, of the scent of him--a mixture of spice and woodsmoke--and the sound of his breathing, she lay stiff and still.

  When he turned to her, she stiffened. He rose up onto his elbow and looked down at her. "Would you like me to put out the candles?"

  "It doesn't matter," she said. His face, looming over hers, was the face of a stranger, not the boy she'd known two-thirds of her life. Its planes and angles were masculine, strong, not the round, childish shape of the small Chinese boy's who'd come to Cherry Vale, so afraid and unsure. She searched his features, tried to look past his eyes into his mind, into his soul.

  All she saw was her husband. The man she was tied to for the rest of her life.

  He came close, until their lips touched. His mouth was hot on hers, his tongue invasive, tasting of brandy.

  She tried. She really did.

  After a while he pulled back. "What is it? What's wrong, Lulu?"

  "I can't," she whispered. "I can't do this." Rolling away from him, she huddled into a small ball at the very edge of the bed. "Please--"

  She heard his sigh, and his slow retreat. Bedding rustled. "Good night," he said, eventually.

  Lulu couldn't find her voice to reply. What have I done? Oh, God, what have I done?

  * * * *

  Tony was sure grateful to Luke for warning him about the notional behavior some women exhibited when they were in the family way. Otherwise he'd be torturing himself over something he couldn't change. He forced himself to pretend everything was just fine between them, not an easy chore when they were lying side by side in the narrow, uncomfortable bed that was the best Shoshone had to offer.

  He didn't even kiss her goodnight. He was afraid to. She hadn't rejected him, hadn't repulsed him, and he was determined he wouldn't give her the chance to do it. As long as she was willing to be with him, to share his bed, he could hope they would eventually work through whatever crazy idea was stuck in her head.

  At least he'd bought himself a decent bed when he'd moved into his house. Years of sleeping on the ground, often without benefit of any bedding at all, had made him appreciate nighttime comfort more than most. They w
ouldn't be crammed together in the middle of a sagging mattress at home.

  He slept, but poorly, and not at all after a freight went through town shortly before dawn. Rising, he dressed and wrote a note to Lulu, who was completely submerged under the covers. A quick rub along his jaw, and he decided he could leave shaving until they got home. One of the few advantages of his racial heritage was a thin, slow-growing beard.

  There was a coffee pot on the stove in the lobby and a stack of newspapers on a table. He poured himself a cup and sat down, picking up a paper as he did so. The Denver Post. Amidst the usual headlines of graft and corruption in government, the word Chinamen caught his eyes. He read the article, growing sicker with each word. In Alaska more than a hundred Chinese cannery workers had been packed on to a boat which was towed offshore and set adrift. There was no word of their fate.

  Tony crumpled the paper in his fist, then carefully smoothed it out and laid it aside. The next one in the stack was the Wood River Times. He reached for it, then pulled his hand back. The last thing he wanted was to read more about Hailey's Anti-Chinese League. He dug in the stack until he came upon a dog-eared copy of The Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine.

  He skimmed the table of contents, then flung it aside. Great God, can't I get away from it? A moment later, he picked it up and turned to the article titled "The Chinese in Early Days," curious to see if the author had anything right at all.

  At first the article was reasonable. The author pointed out that early Chinese immigrants to America were more often than not merchants, and were welcomed. Few went to the gold camps, and if they did, it was as traders rather than miners. He wondered if that was the truth, for he knew little about the subject.

  He read on. There was no doubt the author of the article was not a lover of the Chinese, but he seemed to be trying to be fair. At least that was Tony's opinion until he read: They absorbed and at times usurped every occupation in which they could work their way, or press their advantage through cheaper wages and lower rates. Having been one of the coolies the author spoke so disparagingly of, Tony snorted. He and Soomey had worked for cheap wages because they couldn't find work that paid more. So had all the other Chinese he'd known.