He didn't speak for some moments. A pocket of sap exploded in a burning log, and the house creaked under the weight of snow on the roof. Lulu huddled in miserable self-pity, knowing she'd spoken words that were impossible to take back, certain she'd hurt him beyond all mending.
"If we were still children, I'd kiss you and promise that tomorrow everything will be better," he said at last, "but we're not, and we both know it won't be."
She lifted her head and looked at him, but his face was in shadow, so she couldn't see his expression. Hadn't she said those exact words to him when he told her how his promising career had been destroyed?
"Oh, Tony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"
"Yes, you did, and I don't blame you. This isn't what I had in mind for my life, either." His sigh spoke of broken dreams and lost illusions. "Look, it's late. We're not going to solve anything tonight. Let's get some sleep, and worry about all this when we're rested." He held out his arm. "Come here."
"No, I--"
"Lulu, I just want to hold you. I promise it won't go any farther." He waited.
Slowly she uncurled herself, slid down between the sheets. There was still a good foot of space between them, but she could feel the warmth of him.
The bedclothes rustled as he reached out and took her hand. "We made some vows the other day," he said. "Let's see if we can't work for better, instead of settling for worse."
Chapter Twenty
THE EUREKA MEAT MARKET
At the old Stahle & Hafter Stand
Opposite Theatre, Hailey.
CHARLES BIRKIN, Proprietor.
Beef, Veal, Mutton, and Pork
AT WHOLESALE OR RETAIL.
A Specialty of Choice Cuts, Fair Dealing and Reasonable Prices.
Wood River Times - Regular Advertisement
~~~
Tony was already upright, pulling on his britches, when thunder woke Lulu. Before she could sit up, he was into the kitchen. She realized the noise was caused by someone pounding on the door, not thunder. Shivering in a bitterly cold draft from the kitchen door, which Tony had left open, she reached for her robe. Tony sounded excited. Or angry.
She was out of bed and had laid a fresh log on the dying fire by the time he came back. "I've got to go," he told her as he opened the bedroom door and went in. He emerged, carrying an armload of clothing. "Damn, it's cold!" Turning his back, he removed his britches, replacing them with heavy canvas work pants. He pulled a wool shirt over his Union suit and covered it with a dark sweater.
Lulu couldn't help but watch. His appearance was very different from the gentleman she'd married, in his well-tailored suit and jaunty derby hat. Somehow he looked more like the Tony she remembered this way, dressed as a common laborer. Or a farm hand. "Go where?"
"Somebody vandalized the switchboard. Knocked out the night operator, made a mess of things. I don't know when I'll be back." He tugged a wool cap over his dark hair, paused at the door to the kitchen. "As soon as I get time, I'll send someone out with a buggy for you to use. There's money in the bureau. Get some food, whatever else--"
A yell from outside interrupted him. "Yes, I'm coming," he called back. He looked at her, frowning. "Look. I'm sorry--"
"Go," she told him. "I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, I know." He hesitated. "I'll see you later."
And he was gone. Before she could follow him to the back door, she heard hoof beats go past the house, then fade into the distance.
The clock on the sideboard told her it was scarcely six o'clock on a Monday morning. It wouldn't be light for another couple of hours, at least not light enough to walk to town, even if she had boots to wear. She didn't intend to sit around and wait for him to send a buggy, though. If the vandalism was serious, he might not remember until this afternoon.
One way or another, she was going to town this morning.
* * * *
It was a mess. The vandals had torn all the labels from the switchboard--not too serious--and had disconnected about half of the wires--serious. Tony groaned. Even with Jack's help, they'd be all day getting everything straightened out, assuming they could get started anytime soon. The sheriff's deputy seemed to want to look at every cut wire and each torn label. Until he finished his investigation, all they could do was stand around.
At last the deputy finished looking around. "I doubt you'll ever figure out who done this, Mr. Dewitt. There's a little bit of water over by the door, but it could've come from Jack's shoes when he come in. Too bad Eph didn't see who hit him."
Eph Morton had probably been asleep in his cot beside the switchboard when the vandals entered and struck him on the head. He was conscious now, but disoriented and sick. Dr. Lewis had already warned them he might never remember anything.
"Do what you can," Tony told the deputy. He looked around the small room, with its still-raw wood walls and broken door. They'd added it onto the back of the Wood River Times building just last month, needing space for more switchboard panels, now that their subscriber list was nearing one hundred. No one was likely to have seen the intruders, nor heard any noise they might have made.
"Let's get to work," he said, laying aside his coat.
* * * *
Too tired to pay attention to where they were going yesterday, Lulu only had Tony's word that they were a little more than two miles from town. Once she'd tidied up the house, she dressed and went outside. It was much warmer this morning, probably because of the low clouds that had moved in overnight. Snow before tomorrow, she decided, sniffing the air.
Being able to see would certainly help. With snow drifted up to the eaves, all that was visible of the world around her was a small cleared area in front of the porch and a narrow passage to the barn. She presumed it led on to the road. Well, there's no help for it. Surely I can ride a bicycle as well as he can.
The bicycle was just inside the barn door, propped against the wall. It looked enormous, yet far too fragile to hold an adult. Fortunately it was one of the new style machines, with both wheels the same size. The horizontal bar extending between the post that held the seat and the handlebars looked to be as high as her waist. How on earth was she to get her leg across it?
Lulu had ridden a bicycle a few times in college. She hadn't liked the sensation of wobbling down the road, at the mercy of any rock or rut that could catch the front wheel and toss her to the ground.
I don't have to like it. Just to ride it.
She pulled the hem of her skirt from back to front and tucked it into her waistband. The long tail of her coat was a nuisance, so she caught the front corners and tied them in a great, ungainly knot just below her waist. I must look ridiculous, she thought, but who is there to see?
She laid the bicycle half over and stepped across the horizontal bar, then pulled it upright, standing on tiptoe so she could keep both feet on the ground. With one hand she grabbed the edge of the barn door and held herself upright while she got both feet on the pedals. After a couple of false starts and a near-disaster, she got moving. Although she careened along the narrow passage between snowdrifts to the road, by the time she got there, she was feeling smugly confident. This isn't nearly as difficult as I remember.
She made the turn onto the road with care, aware that one icy patch could be her downfall. The road was rutted and slick in the center, but along one side she could see the tracks Tony must have made last night when he rode home. She steered over there and discovered it to be much easier riding.
By the time she was in sight of town, Lulu was almost enjoying herself. If she hadn't been so cold, she would find this experience exhilarating. Perhaps I should get myself one of these. We could ride together.
In the next instant she heard a sharp report, like a shot. Before she could react, she was thrown to the side and sprawled in a snowbank. Her legs were tangled in the bicycle, her arms buried to the elbows in the snow. She lay very still. Oh, my God! The baby.
Cautiously she moved. One leg, then the other, which only moved a
few inches, then stopped. She pushed herself carefully upright.
Her foot was trapped, held securely against the frame by the front wheel which was wedged against a signpost. Scooting backwards, she managed to free herself.
Using her other foot, she pushed the bicycle to one side. Without moving again, she took a mental inventory of herself. One ankle felt as it she had twisted it, probably when it got tangled with the bicycle. Her right wrist ached. It must have taken her weight when she fell.
She pressed both hands to her belly. Are you all right in there? I didn't fall too hard, did I?
Nothing. Of course, the baby rarely moved when she was active, but Lulu would have been reassured by a small twinge.
She looked all around, trying to find the source of the shot she'd heard. It hadn't been all that loud, so the shooter must be some distance away. I must have been so startled I jerked the handlebars .There's no one in sight, so it should be safe to stand up..
Scooting off the snowdrift, she untied her coattails and shook it out, then untucked her skirt. With a quick brush and a couple of twitches of her skirt, she decided she looked as well as could be expected.
The bicycle appeared undamaged. She picked it up, set it on its wheels. That was when she saw that one of the pneumatic tires was flat. Oh, great. I guess I walk the rest of the way.
Fortunately, she was less than half a mile from her apartment. Wheeling the bicycle proved to be much more work than riding it, but she hadn't much choice. When she finally got to the apartment, she knocked first on Mrs. Graham's door.
"Land sakes, Miss King," the elderly woman said when she opened the door. "What have you been doing? You're all covered with snow."
"I fell," she said, "but I'm fine. I just wanted to let you know I'm moving out."
"Moving out? Oh, dear, that's too bad. You've been such a nice neighbor. Are you going back East-- Oh, dear, you're probably half frozen and here I am rattling on...come in. Never mind the snow. It won't hurt anything. Just come in and get yourself warm."
She all but pulled Lulu inside and helped her out of her coat. "Now, you just sit down there and take off those wet shoes. Land sakes, child, haven't you any better sense than to wear such impractical things out in this kind of weather?"
In a matter of a few minutes, she had Lulu seated next to the stove with her shoes sitting on the oven door in the kitchen. When she brought in a fresh pot of tea, Lulu had to smile. "You remind me of my mamma. She thinks tea is the answer to every problem too."
Once the tea was poured, Mrs. Graham leaned forward eagerly. "Now, tell me all about your new job? Is it in Washington? Will you be working with the suffrage group?"
"I'm afraid I don't have a new job, Mrs. Graham. I'll be staying in Hailey, for now, at least. You see, I..." She swallowed. "I got married."
* * * *
Tony and Jack were still hard at work when he heard Lulu call, "May I come in?"
He peered around the switchboard bank and saw her silhouetted in the doorway. "How'd you get to town?"
"I rode your bicycle. Are you two hungry?" She came in and closed the door behind her. Once the door was closed, he could see she carried a large basket in one hand and a bailed tin can in the other. "I stopped at your office and Mr. Eagleton told me where you were. He was going to bring your dinner over, so I told him I'd save him the trip." Setting the basket on an upturned crate, she lifted the napkin covering it. "Fried chicken, corn bread, string beans with bacon, and dried apple pie. The coffee's probably cold, but the rest should be still warm."
Before he could react, the aroma of the chicken and cornbread hit his nose. Eagleton had brought them coffee and doughnuts earlier, but for the past hour Tony had been aware of a growling belly. "What time is it?"
"After one. I would have been here sooner, but the café was busy. Where are your cups?"
"Here's mine, ma'am," Jack said, thrusting an enamel cup toward her. "Gosh, this is great! I was nigh starvin'."
Tony laid his pliers aside and went after his cup, still half full of cold coffee from earlier. "You've been to your place," he said, noticing for the first time that she was dressed in garments he'd never seen. Her knee-length, hooded coat was of fur--bear, he'd bet--her dark wool skirt ended just above the tops of sturdy laced boots, and the pink, orange and green knit scarf wrapped over her head and around her neck was one he remembered from a Christmas long ago. A light dusting of snow sat on her shoulders.
"Of course. You didn't expect me to traipse around town dressed in city clothes, did you?" She finished unpacking the basket and picked it up. "I'll be back after I've rented a buggy. Do you mind if I take it for a week? I'll need it to move my things." Her manner was brisk, her tone matter-of-fact. She didn't look him in the eyes once.
Because he hadn't time or energy to worry about what was wrong with their marriage right then, he followed her lead. "Of course not. Do you need money?"
"I have what was in your dresser. It should be enough."
Just then Tony noticed Jack staring from one of them to the other, his mouth hanging open. Well, hell! "Lulu, I'd like to introduce you to Jack Denman, our daytime switchboard operator and my right hand man. Jack, my wife, Mrs. Dewitt."
Holding out her hand, Lulu said, "How do you do, Mr. Denman. I'm very happy to meet you. My husband has spoken highly of you."
After a moment's hesitation, Jack took her hand. It was obvious to Tony he'd never met a woman who shook hands like a man before.
"How d'ye do, ma'am. I'm happy to meet you too," Jack said, his face bright red. The look he shot at Tony spoke his surprise plainly.
"Now, I must be off. Will you dine at home?"
His mouth full, Tony shook his head. When he'd swallowed, he said, "I doubt it. We're not even half done reconnecting these wires. It may take us all night."
"Well, then, take this key to my apartment. Your bicycle has a damaged tire, and you'll not want to hire another buggy if it's late. Sleep there, if you get a chance." Handing him the key, she turned and was off. Tony stared after her, astonished at the change in her since yesterday.
What had happened to the tired, withdrawn woman he'd traveled from Boise with? He shook his head. Time enough to figure that out when he got people's telephones back in working order. "You about done?" he asked Jack.
The young man shoveled a last bite of the apple pie into his mouth and nodded.
"Let's get back to work." Tony knew he shouldn't be so short with Jack, who was doing his best. The trouble was, the lad had no mechanical ability and little understanding of how the switchboard worked. After he'd messed up a couple of connections, Tony had relegated him to handing tools. On the other hand, he did an excellent job as switchboard operator, something Tony found stultifying.
"Who d'you suppose done this, Mr. Dewitt?" Jack said, a little later. "I thought everybody liked the idea of telephones."
"That's what's got me stumped," Tony admitted. "There hasn't been any talk against them, and as far as I know, no other company has any interest in moving in here. If this were a big city, I'd think it was somebody wanting the business, but not here. Eagleton'll never get rich off the telephone company."
They worked in silence for a few minutes, then Jack said, "Some folks in town wonder where he got his money. He don't seem to work at anything, yet he's always got plenty."
"I think he invests wisely," Tony said, not paying much attention. "I'd be surprised if he didn't have a finger in most Wood River pies." He made one last connection. "There, that should take care of the line to Bullion." Holding his breath, he rang the mine office and connected the office line to it. After three rings, a voice spoke in his ear. "Is that you, Jack? What the devil's been wrong with our telephone service? We haven't been able to make a call all day?"
"Tony Dewitt here, Mr. Pinnick. We've got your line fixed. The problem was vandalism. Somebody came in and tried to wreck the switchboard. The sheriff's office is looking for whoever did it, but there isn't much to go on. Our night opera
tor was knocked out and he didn't see who did it."
"Seems to me you've had more than one incident like this. Any idea who's behind them?"
Tony hadn't really considered the line breakages to have resulted from vandalism, but obviously Pinnick did. "No, but as soon as we get this mess straightened out, I'll be doing some investigating. Thanks for your patience." He disconnected, but stood there holding the plug, deep in thought. That break in the line to Bullion, early on. Could it have been due to vandalism, rather than some natural cause? And those downed poles halfway to Ketchum. What were the odds that three poles in a row would topple? They'd blamed wet ground, but still...
Chapter Twenty-one
To the People of Hailey.
At a meeting of the Chinamen residing in Bellevue, Ketchum, and Hailey, held in Hailey last evening, the 5th instant, it was unanimously resolved that the Chinese residing on Wood River would refuse to "go" by the first of May or any other date arbitrarily fixed by any party or parties.
The Chinese have much property that they cannot sell or dispose of in any way, on which they pay taxes; they obey the laws of the country and pay all taxes the same as white men; and they do not intend to go until the Government of the United States compels them to.
For the Chinese on Wood River:
SANG YUEN,
TING WO,
SING LEE,
HOP CHING,
SAM WING CHING,
QUONG WAH CHUNG,
HUNG WAH,
Of Hailey.
WING TUNG WAH,
QUONG LEE,
Of Ketchum.
SING SURN GEE,
YEE LEE,
SAM SING,
Of Bellevue.
Hailey, I.T., February 6.
Wood River Times - paid advertisement to run for one month
~~~
Lulu hired one of Mrs. Graham's nephews to help her load and unload her possessions. With his help, she got everything moved to Tony's house that day. "I'll be back tomorrow to clean the apartment," she told her neighbor when she brought the boy back to town late in the afternoon. "I've left a bit of food and the bedding, because my husband may have to sleep in town tonight." She'd already told the woman about the mess he'd been cleaning up all day. "I have a feeling he won't quit until he gets every one of the telephones back in service."
THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER Page 21