THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  Once again he started to toss the magazine aside, then changed his mind. But before he could open it again, Lulu came through the door from the hall.

  "Good morning," he said, as he tucked the magazine into his jacket pocket. "Ready for breakfast?" Last night she'd eaten none of the chili that had been the only offering of the café; next door. He was certain a slice of bread and butter was not sufficient supper for a mother-to-be, particularly since dinner had been a box lunch on the train.

  "Absolutely. I'm famished." She tucked her hand loosely inside his elbow.

  He wanted to pull her close, but was afraid she'd repulse him. Then he was disgusted with himself for putting up with her coolness.

  They finally arrived in Hailey in the middle of the afternoon, their train having followed slowly behind the snowplow all the way from Picabo. Lulu looked wilted, with lavender circles under her eyes. She moved slowly, too, as if she'd aged years in two days.

  Two sleighs and one freight wagon met the train, but no carriages for hire. The sleighs had come to meet passengers, and went back to town full. Tony talked the freight driver into giving him a lift to town, and ended up helping him load so they could get away sooner. Lulu made no objection when he promised to be back for her as soon as he could hire a buggy. She curled up on one of the benches and was asleep almost immediately.

  He was worried about her. Where was the boundless energy she had always had? Ever since she'd told him about the baby, she'd been subdued. Almost as if she had given up her dreams.

  The Lulu he used to know would have challenged him to a footrace to town.

  Chapter Nineteen

  While it is desirable that the country be freed from the presence of the Chinese as quickly as it can be done by legal and proper means, no form of intimidation or violence toward them must be permitted, and they must be protected in their persons and rights of property wherever they may choose to reside. To do less is not only dishonorable, but it is to lay up an account against ourselves which will be hard to meet when the day of reckoning shall come...

  Wood River Times

  ~~~

  Lulu woke in the depot and for a moment wondered how she'd gotten there. After a few moments' confusion, she remembered. She checked her watch and saw she'd only slept about half an hour. Not enough time for Tony to have gone to the livery stable and rented a rig.

  She yawned, and wondered where her energy had gone. This awful lethargy simply wasn't like her, for all her life she'd had trouble sitting still and doing nothing. Some of her best thinking had been done while she was knitting, walking, or cleaning.

  Yet now she couldn't move. The room was beyond chilly, with the only heat coming from a small, round stove in one corner, well removed from the uncomfortable benches. She shivered, but didn't seem to have the strength to move closer to it.

  Out of habit, she reached into her reticule for her journal, but when she'd opened it, her mind went blank. What could she write? That she was now a married woman? Idly she paged back through it, reading a line here, a few words there. Surprised at how few entries there were, she thought back over the past few months. When had she stopped writing daily? After she and Tony had made love, when her emotions and her thoughts had been in such a turmoil? Or before that?

  Here was an entry marking her return to Hailey in September. And another, about the Grand Ball in Ketchum, on September tenth. Then nothing until one dated in late October--Today I walked in the hills. I found a high place that reminded me of the Aerie and realized I'd never gone back there after Tao Ni went away. Why did I miss him so, as if a part of me had been lost? And why do I miss him now? The man I know is not the boy I loved. Has he changed so much? Or have I?

  I cannot regret what we did, yet I wish the circumstances had been different. We were both lonely, distraught. How will I ever know whether we were seeking solace from one another, or if what happened was because we still love... No, that's impossible. Not after all this time.

  We simply gave into lust, a perfectly normal reaction to the circumstances.

  After that, the only entries dealt with her work, as if she had no other life.

  Her fingers tightened around the pencil. For a moment she wanted to dig its point into the pages of the journal and tear them into shreds, to destroy all traces of the mess she'd made of her life. Instead, she forced herself to calmly and carefully write an account of everything that had happened since the night in September that had changed the shape of her future.

  She had just closed the journal when Tony returned.

  He wouldn't let her help him load their luggage into the buggy, and insisted on handing her to the seat. Lulu found she needed the help. Her balance had changed along with her shape.

  "Do you want to stop by your apartment?" he asked, as he was turning the buggy, "or wait until tomorrow?"

  "Have you food at the house? Anything I can put together for supper?"

  "Staples. Anything fresh would have frozen. Why don't we stop at the Nevada Chop House tonight?"

  "I'm a mess," she said, crossly, realizing he had no idea of the scandal their marriage could cause. "Let's just stop at the Eagle Market and pick up some potatoes and eggs--no, it's Sunday. They're closed. Never mind. Surely you have enough supplies for me to put together something." Cooking was the last thing she wanted to do, as tired as she was, but anything was better than walking into a restaurant with him.

  "There ought to be a flitch of bacon and some flour, but I don't know about anything else. Sure you don't want to go to a restaurant?"

  "I'm sure. Let's go home." How strange that sounded. She'd never even seen his house, so how could she call it home?

  By the time they reached the house, it was past five and the sun had sunk behind the hills to the west. The owner's residence until Abner Eagleton had bought the ranch, the small cottage had sat empty for more than a year before Tony had moved in. It needed paint, but otherwise looked to be in good enough condition. Tony drew the horses up as close to the back porch as he could. "I'll have to take them back to town in a while," he told Lulu. "Someone's hired them tomorrow." He took her arm. "Careful. This walk's slick."

  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 alm
ost 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."