THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  He was counting on her innate stubbornness to keep her home. Just tell her what to do, and she'd do the exact opposite.

  The note he'd found tucked under the door last night, when he'd returned after one last check of the switchboard, sat in his pocket like something alive. And deadly poison.

  And ye shall perish among the heathen and the land of your enemies shall eat you up.

  His first stop was at Yu's laundry, where he left a message for Ru Nan to come to his office before he went to the apartment. If the lad was unavailable, Lulu couldn't have him drive her around.

  When he got to the office he called the switchboard.

  "Abe Quisling didn't show up this morning," Jack told him, when Tony asked about the line riders they'd hired.

  Tony wasn't surprised. Abe was a good man when he was sober, but he never stayed sober for long. "I'll do it-- No, there's someone I can send out. Everything else's is all right, I take it."

  "I haven't checked everything yet, but so far nothing seems wrong."

  "Good. I'll be there in about an hour." He attacked the correspondence he'd let slide last week.

  "Ride out toward Bullion," he told Ru Nan when the boy came to the office a little later. "Check every telephone pole, make sure they're standing and have wires attached. If you see any loose wires, or poles down, remember where they are and come and tell me when you've checked them all." He spoke Chinese, stumbling a bit over words he hadn't used for years.

  "Your wife said she wanted me to drive her this morning."

  "My wife will stay at home today, as I have directed." I hope she will, anyhow. Maybe I should have told her about the note.

  At nine he set aside the remaining few letters he had to answer and headed for the switchboard. Damn it, I wish Eagleton would get back. There's too much for one person to do, especially with this crazy man running around loose.

  Jack was just finishing with the battery test when he arrived. Tony was surprised, because usually the early morning checks took less than an hour. "Something wrong?"

  "It's been real busy, this morning," Jack said. "Seems like everybody wants to talk to somebody." He frowned. Unclipping the wires, he reattached them to the first battery in the series. "That's odd. The charge is down on all of them."

  "How much?" Tony knelt beside him and looked at the electrometer. Yes, the charge was low, but not much. "You said we'd been busy this morning. Maybe that's why."

  He was only mildly concerned. The battery charge varied according to how many calls were made. The low-voltage dynamo that fed them often fell behind demand during the busiest time of the day, but caught up at night. Lew O'Bannion checked the waterwheel and dynamo twice a day, going and coming on his inspection of the lines to Gimlet. If there were something wrong there, Lew would have reported it.

  "Keep an eye on the voltage. If it drops off too much more, I'll go out and check the line myself." He sat at the small desk and looked through the list of requests for telephone service. He'd have to make excuses, because the parts for the batteries that powered individual telephones hadn't been shipped yet. The small manufacturer of the ceramic cups was having trouble keeping up with the demand.

  Perhaps it was just as well. Until they got the vandalism stopped, he really didn't need more subscribers to deal with. Explaining the service problems they'd already had to present subscribers had been difficult enough.

  I sure hope there's not anything wrong with the dynamo. Maybe I should ride out there and make sure.

  No. Lew was a good man. If he hadn't seen anything wrong this morning, Tony shouldn't be worried.

  * * * *

  That man! He was so certain he knew what was best for her. Always had been. That was why she'd refused him ten years ago. He wanted to run her life.

  She'd show him she was capable of running her own life, thank you very much. She had errands to do this morning, and she was darn well going to do them, even if she had to walk.

  Xi Xin tapped on the back door. Lulu let her in and asked if she'd had breakfast.

  "Oh, yes. Graham lady feed me well. She say I too skinny." The child giggled and tugged at the too-tight britches she wore.

  "We need to get you new clothes. You seem to have outgrown those," Lulu told her. "Can you sew?"

  "I sew very good. Can cook, too. Graham lady tell me I will cook her dinner, show her how good I do."

  "How well you do," Lulu corrected absently. A thought occurred to her, one she would have to give serious consideration to. Sooner or later she and Tony would move on, but Xi Xin had family here. She would want to stay in Hailey.

  If any Chinese at all stayed here.

  "I am going to town in a while, so you can tidy up in here and go back to see if Mrs. Graham needs help. I'll bring you fabric to make new britches and a shirt."

  The girl looked down at her feet. "I have other shirt, good enough," she said. "No need to make more."

  "Nonsense. If your other shirt is as shabby as that one, you certainly do need a new one." She made up her mind to see that the child was well clothed while she could. But she'd caution Xi Xin to make them loose-fitting and styled like men's clothing. She was entirely too pretty a girl.

  She was rewarded by a wide smile. "I make house clean now, before I go cook dinner." Suddenly Xi Xin's eyes grew very round and her hand went to hide her mouth. "Will you want me cook your dinner too?"

  Lulu laughed. "No, not if you're cooking for Mrs. Graham. I will have dinner in town, probably with my husband." She would show Tony that while she was obeying his order not to drive out, she wasn't going to stay immured in this small apartment, just because he'd told her to. After all, what danger could there possibly be to her in broad daylight on a busy street?

  Promptly at nine o'clock, she set out for town. The weather had cleared and the sky was richly blue. Although the surrounding hills still wore their mantles of deep snow, small patches of brown earth were showing along the paths and on the streets. The ground was terribly muddy, for the meltwater from all the snow had thoroughly saturated it. If this mild weather continued, the river would soon escape its banks. Perhaps it was a good thing they'd moved to town. Their house was entirely too close to the main channel.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Dewitt."

  Lulu turned to see Patrick Newell just emerging from Coffin Brothers' store. "How do you do, Mr. Newell? I trust you are well?"

  "I am, thank you. I must congratulate you on your marriage. You said nothing about it when we last met."

  She caught his quick glance at her waist. There was no hiding her condition any more, not even with her heavy coat. "I believe I told you we had been childhood friends. Marriage seemed an obvious next step."

  "Yes, well, what surprised me was that Mr. Dewitt said nothing to anyone, so for all the town knew, he was a bachelor until recently." His voice was soft, with the slow cadence of the South, but it still held a certain sly insinuation.

  Or was she imagining it? Tony had more than once expressed his dislike of Patrick Newell, and she certainly hadn't been taken with him. His disparaging remarks about woman's suffrage had raised her hackles on more than one occasion. "Surely there was no requirement that he make such an announcement, when I was unable to be here with him, due to other responsibilities."

  His smile was a bit too knowing to please her. "No, no, of course not," he said, raising his hands as if to reject such an outrageous idea. "I just wondered..." Again his gaze fell on her rounded abdomen.

  "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Newell, I have several errands to do." She turned and walked away. A patch along her spine between her shoulder blades itched. If she were to turn around, she'd see him watching her, she was certain.

  The warm weather had brought out a flock of shoppers, and the sidewalks were crowded. Main Street was, as usual, congested, with freight wagons, buckboards, buggies, and riding horses. Lulu got the impression that half the residents of Wood River had flocked to Hailey this fine morning. When she crossed Bullion Street, wading thr
ough ankle-deep mud, she had to dodge between an ore wagon and one carrying barrels of beer.

  Several of the women she passed on the sidewalk looked familiar, but she could put a name to no face. I should have stayed in town long enough to become acquainted, she thought, instead of gallivanting around the country. She felt more a stranger here than in Washington DC.

  All the burned buildings had been rebuilt in the block between Bullion and Croy. As she walked along in front of them, she remembered reading that Tony's landlady, Mrs. Slossen, had been charged with arson in the fire that had destroyed the entire half block. I wonder what ever came of that. I'll have to ask him.

  She was approaching the corner, diagonally across from Eagleton's office, when she heard someone call, "Watch out, Mrs. Dewitt!" As she turned to see who had spoken, someone careened into her and she was knocked off the sidewalk. The force of the blow carried her into the path of a mule team, and before she could catch her balance, she ran into the lead mule's shoulder.

  Someone behind her screamed. The animal shied, sending her reeling. She fell sideways into the mud. Despite her entangling skirts, she rolled away from the oncoming freight wagon. One of the great wheels splashed through the mud not six inches from her head.

  Face down now, she tried to lift herself on her arms, but her hands sank into the quagmire up to the elbow. Icy water soaked into her wool skirt and petticoat and the fabric clung to her legs. She kicked out, trying to free her feet, which were caught in the folds of sodden wool. Damn these skirts!

  Shouts and screams filled her ears as she flopped forward. Then someone's hands were on her and she was pulled from the mud and set upon the edge of the sidewalk.

  "Are you all right?"

  The voice seemed to come from a great distance. Lulu opened her mouth to reply, but found she had no voice. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and managed to rasp out a harsh, "Yes-s-s." The cold from her wet clothing penetrated to her very core and she shivered. "Yes. I believe I'm unhurt." Her hands went to her belly. Are you all right in there? Move, please, so I'll know you're not injured.

  Nothing. She forced herself to look at her rescuer. Jacob Teller sat beside her on the sidewalk, one arm around her, the other holding a handkerchief with which he was attempting to wipe the mud from her face.

  "Sit still, Mrs. Dewitt, until we can ascertain whether you're injured."

  Unable to do anything else, she obeyed. Around and above her she could hear excited voices raised in an unintelligible cacophony of babble. A few words and phrases penetrated the shock which held her in thrall.

  "Just stepped off..."

  "...no doubt been drinking..."

  "At this hour?"

  "...was pushed..."

  "...better than she should..."

  "Someone bumped against me. Pushed me," she said to Mr. Teller.

  Her words may have been lost in the handkerchief, for he was still dabbing at her cheek and nose. "Will someone summon her husband?" he said loudly.

  "No! Please, I'm fine." Lulu clutched at his arm, tried to stand. Her knees would not support her. They felt as if they were about to melt.

  "Here, now, you folks stand back and leave the lady be," a new voice said.

  Lulu tried to turn around, to identify the speaker. Mr. Teller held her so tightly she could only glance over her shoulder. "Sit still," he said again. "Let the deputy clear the crowd away."

  Again she obeyed. "I was pushed," she insisted, keeping her tone low enough that only Mr. Teller heard. "Someone called my name. I turned to see who, and the next thing I knew, I was shoved sideways. Right off the edge." Again she felt that awful sensation, as she stepped onto empty air. If she hadn't careened against the mule, she would have tumble under its feet.

  "Lulu!" Tony appeared in front of her, kneeling in the mud. "Is she hurt? What happened? Damn it, I told you to stay..."

  "She's probably more shaken than hurt," Mr. Teller said before she could reply. "I think she needs to lie down."

  "There's a cot in the office." Tony scooped her up. "Can you clear the way?"

  Ordinarily Lulu would have objected strenuously to being carried along a public sidewalk. This time, however, she was grateful, for she doubted her legs would have supported her the block to Eagleton's office. She lay in Tony's arms, both hands resting on her still quiescent belly. Please, wake up and tell me you're all right.

  Nothing.

  Tony couldn't make up his mind whether he should beat her or just hold her close and thank God she was uninjured. Once he had her on the cot, he asked Jacob Teller to fetch Dr. Lewis.

  "I'll do that. Anything else?"

  "No, but thanks. Will you have time to come back and tell me what you saw?"

  "I'll be along later. I was on my way to an appointment, so look for me in an hour or so."

  Lulu's eyes were closed and her face pale. Both hands were spread across her abdomen, as if to protect the babe she carried. "What is it?" he said, a stab of raw fear piercing his gut. "Is something wrong?"

  "I don't know," she whispered. "I can't feel her."

  "The doctor will be here soon." Much as he tried to make his tone reassuring, he couldn't. What if...?

  Tenderly he removed her muddy outer clothing. She lay as if boneless, letting him turn her and lift her like he might a rag doll. When he had her stripped to her camisole and drawers, he tucked a scratchy wool blanket around her, laid his overcoat over it. "Are you warm enough now?"

  She nodded. "I'm sorry." Her voice was small, soft, barely audible.

  Tony turned to stare. "What did you say?"

  "I was angry. You ordered me to stay home, and I hate being told what to do. I was going to show you I could decide for myself what I'd do."

  Kneeling, he slid one arm under her head, the other across her covered body. "I'm sorry too. I should have told you why I didn't want you going out. There was a note--"

  A pounding at the front door interrupted him. "That'll be the doctor. I'll be right back."

  The doctor pronounced her unhurt, except for a scraped wrist and a possible sprained ankle. He bandaged the one and strapped the other, telling her to stay off of it as much as possible for a week or so.

  When he'd finished with the ankle, Tony said, "My wife is...she's going to have a baby. Can you tell if any harm came--" Fear halted the words before he could speak them.

  Flipping the blankets back farther, the doctor poked and prodded at Lulu's rounded abdomen. "Seen a doctor before this? No? You should have. Birthing may be a natural process, but a little extra care never hurts." He pressed his stethoscope to her, moved it several times.

  Tony held his breath. Lulu's eyes were closed. Her teeth worried her lower lip.

  "Hmmm," the doctor said, several times. "Interesting." He moved the stethoscope again.

  Tony opened his mouth to demand an answer.

  The doctor looked up, eyes twinkling. "I don't hear anything to worry about. Good strong heartbeats. But I want you to come in and see me, Mrs. Dewitt. Twins sometimes come early, and we want you to carry these as long as you can."

  Air burst from Tony's lungs in a great whoosh. "Twins?" He cleared his throat. "Did you say twins?"

  "I heard two distinct heartbeats," Dr. Lewis said, as he tucked the stethoscope back into his bag. "I've been wrong before, but if I were a betting man, I'd lay money on twins." He shouldered into his overcoat and clapped his hat on his head. "Now remember, I want to see Mrs. Dewitt before the end of the week. We know a lot more about pregnancy than we used to, and there's no sense not taking advantage of it."

  Tony saw him out, still virtually speechless. When he returned to the back room, he paused at the door and looked across at Lulu. "Twins," he said again, his tone wondering.

  Lulu's eyes were still shut, but her lips held a wide, beautiful smile.

  You didn't tell me there were two of you. Was it supposed to be a surprise? She was surprised. Ecstatic. Scared.

  She had just gotten used to the idea of one bab
y. Now there were two. Oh, lord, how will I ever cope?

  Opening her eyes, she said, "I think we'd better tell the folks." They had discussed sending a cable to Silas's London agent, then agreed that to do so would cut short the travels both Kings and Lachlans had planned so many years for. Silas and Soomey, of course, would come home at the drop of a hat, but they were not taking their first holiday, as Lulu's parents were. Aunt Hattie and Uncle Emmet would come home too, just because it was a family birth.

  "I think we'd better get out of Hailey." He sounded grim.

  Her mood of joy and thanksgiving shattered by the reminder of what had happened to them already, she said, "Something new? Tell me!"

  Tony reached into an inside pocket. "This came last night. Tucked under the door after you were in bed."

  A chill unrelated to her recent experience shivered through Lulu. She grasped Tony's wrist. "Yes. We'll go to Boise. Now. As soon as I can get packed." Using his arm for leverage, she sat up. The blankets fell away and she realized she was all but naked. "My clothes!"

  "They're ruined. I'll send someone...Hell! You've got nothing else to wear, have you?"

  "No. That was one of the reasons I was coming to town. To get fabric and maybe a ready-to-wear skirt and blouse. I can't go home in my underwear. Can you get me some britches and a shirt? Something for a boy about the size of Ru Nan?"

  "You're not running around town in britches. I'll take care of getting you something. As soon as Jacob Teller gets back."

  Her breath caught. Mr. Teller! She'd seen him just ahead of her an instant before her name had been called. Had he been the one who pushed her?

  And who had called out to her, distracting her when she should have been watching her step? The voice had been vaguely familiar. One she'd heard recently.

  Whose?

  Chapter Thirty

  "But still, you will be an old maid! -- and that's so dreadful!"

  "Never mind, Harriet, I shall not be a poor old maid; and it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public! A single woman, with a very narrow income, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid! -- the proper sport of boys and girls -- but a single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else..."