THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (6 page)

He was silent for several paces. At last he said, "I think it was because I was
always so afraid something would happen to one of you. I'd learned the hard way that life
is...uncertain." His voice broke on the last word.

She waited, changing her usual vigorous stride to a slow stroll. Tony so seldom
shared his innermost thoughts with anyone. If he was about to, she didn't want to distract
him.

"Do you remember the first time I came to Cherry Vale? In some ways it was one
of the most frightening experiences I've ever faced."

"It must have been terrifying. Being snatched off your horse and hugged half to
death. That would certainly frighten anyone." She did remember that day, and in her
mind's eye saw the skinny, hungry-looking little kid who'd cowered away when the whole
Lachlan family and the three King children burst from the house as the small cavalcade
rode across the pasture. "What were you so afraid of?"

He stopped and stared off into the distance, as if the answer were written on the
bright blue sky. "I don't know," he admitted. "That I'd wake up and it would all be a dream,
I think. Nothing I'd ever experienced had led me to believe there could be a place in the
world as wonderful--as
safe
--as Cherry Vale."

Sensing a deep loneliness and a great need within him, Lulu slipped her arm
through his. "You've never told us about what happened to you before Soomey adopted
you. Why not? Was it so horrible?" While working in the Relocation Program, Lulu had
been sickened by the crimes committed again children too young to be worth anything to
those who would exploit the helpless. Had Tony been like those pathetic victims of war
and hate and intolerance?

"Compared to some, no. I came to America with my father. I'm not sure why we
came, but I think he was running away from something, some danger. He'd been an
Imperial guard, so whatever drove him from China must have been serious. Unlike many
who worked only toward returning home rich, he saw this country as a new start. A future
for both of us.

"We were in a little gold camp outside of Sumpter, over in Oregon" he said, his
voice dropping to little more than a whisper. "The whole place was one vast tent city,
because no one wanted to take the time to cut logs and build houses. Any sawn wood went
into rockers and sluices. The camp sat in a narrow canyon, so the tents were crowded
together until you could hardly walk between."

Again a long pause, as if what was to come next was still painful.

"It was early fall. Not much timber was left standing within a couple of miles of
town, but there was still a good bit of undergrowth, and a lot of slash from trimming the
logs when they were felled. There hadn't been any rain for perhaps six weeks, and the
hillsides were tinder-dry." He swallowed.

"One night there was a storm. Thunder and lightning. Wind. No rain. I don't know
how many fires the lightning started. It seemed like hundreds, all around us. We were
trapped. It was like Dante's vision of Hell. My father put me under an overturned sluice
box and caved a bank over it. I was all but buried."

Looking down at his hands, he rubbed his thumbs across his fingertips. "I heard
the screams, felt the heat as the fire burned over where I lay. After a while I heard nothing
more. Then the rain began. When water began seeping under the sluice box, I started
digging."

Again that rubbing of his fingertips, and now Lulu remembered she'd seen him do
it many times, whenever he was upset.

"I dug until my fingers were bloody, but I got out before I drowned. I was the only
living thing in that canyon.

"No. Not the only living thing. The vultures were there, too."

She wanted to take him into her arms and soothe him, comfort him. But they were
standing on First Avenue in broad daylight. So she only touched his cheek briefly. "How
long before Soomey found you? How did you live?"

"She thinks it must have been a couple of weeks later. I don't know. I ate berries
and what food I could scrounge from the burned tents, until the smell got too terrible to
live with. Then I went looking for other people. I had been lurking around the edges of the
next camp, five miles or so downstream, for a couple of days when she found me." His
chuckle sounded strained. "They only shot at me once."

She could only shake her head in wonder. "You were what, eight?"

"Silas thinks I was barely seven. As near as we can determine, from my poor
memories of the trip over and records from the gold camps in that area." Clearing his
throat, he smiled, a poor attempt, but an attempt nonetheless. "Look, that's enough old
history. May I buy you dinner? The Nevada Chop House puts on a great Sunday
spread."

Oh, dear, I must put a stop to this.
She opened the gold watch pinned to
her jacket. "I have a few minutes. Come inside, please."

Once he was seated in her rocking chair, she perched on the arm of the settee. "I
wasn't going to bring this up again, but you're giving me no choice.

"Just because we were...friends once, Tao Ni...Tony, doesn't mean you have to
watch over me now. I've been on my own for a long time, and can take care of myself quite
well. You embarrassed me on the Fourth, and you damaged my credit with people here in
town. Now many of them see me as a silly woman who needs a man to rescue her from the
consequences of her outrageous behavior."

She held up a hand when he would have interrupted. "Let me say this, please.
When people look at me, I want them to see that when they give me the vote, I'm going to
use the privilege responsibly and intelligently. I represent every woman in America, Tony,
and it's important that I'm perceived as competent and courageous. When you carried me
off the platform, you were showing I was neither.

"I've been jeered at before. I've been harassed, shouted down, physically removed
from a stage, plastered with rotten fruit, and struck by thrown bottles, stones, and even a
shoe. But never--"

Her fists were clenched as she leaned forward and held his gaze. "Tony, I have
never
been humiliated the way I was that day. I told you not to worry, that it
wasn't important, but it was! You diminished my stature, made me seem weak and
feminine. I will not...cannot tolerate that. The goals I work toward, equal rights for all
Americans and universal suffrage, are too important to be undermined because you have
chivalrous instincts.

"So go away, Tony. Stay away. Let me live my life the way I choose. Find
yourself a woman who wants to be taken care of.

"I don't."

For a moment she wavered in her resolve, when she saw the boy she'd loved
peering through the eyes of the man. Only for a moment. This was best for both of
them.

It was. It really was.

* * * *

Lulu answered the door, wishing she'd said no instead of yes Sunday afternoon
when he'd asked her to the ball. "Good evening, Mr. Correy."

"Good evening." He bowed and held out a small nosegay. "These are for
you."

Touched, Lulu accepted the flowers and buried her nose in them. Sweet Williams
and asters. "How thoughtful. Thank you." Lacking a vase, she filled a pretty cream pitcher
with water and set the nosegay in it on the table beside her rocking chair.

They walked the few blocks to the livery stable where they boarded a stake-bed
wagon fitted with seats to accommodate twenty or so people. It gradually filled, and soon
they were on their way to Ketchum. "I trust your latest journey was fruitful," Mr. Correy
commented, once they were moving.

"Very much so. Women in the West are determined to win the right to vote."

He cleared his throat. "Miss King, I know you and Mrs. Teller believe in your
cause, but do you...do you honestly believe most women are capable of voting
intelligently? After all, few have the education you have, and even fewer have such
superior understanding."

As always, Lulu had to choose her words carefully. It was so easy to alienate those
who were only mildly disapproving. "Mr. Correy, how many men do you know who have
your education or superior understanding?"

She saw the flash of his teeth in the twilight. "Thank you. Knowing one's
companion considers one to be intelligent is gratifying."

"You are welcome." She waited. When he said no more, she said, "Mr. Correy,
you didn't answer my question. Do you honestly believe all men are qualified to cast an
intelligent vote?"

"Well, I..." He cleared his throat. "Put that way, I suppose not. But we men, by our
very nature, are better suited to governance. It is our duty, our privilege, to do what is best
for weaker members of our society."

He sounded so pompous and so certain that Lulu knew further argument would do
no good. She made a noncommittal noise and resigned herself to playing the delicate
flower this evening.

After hearing his opinion, what she would like to do was jump out of this wagon
and run home, where a good book and jasmine tea would suit her far more than an evening
of dancing and pretending to enjoy herself with a man who obviously thought of her as
witless.

A comment by one of her early mentors came to mind.
You must do all you
can to convince them you are neither a hoyden nor a revolutionary. Winning this
particular battle will depend strongly on our being perceived as logical, rational, and
civilized.

So she'd behave as a lady tonight, and not accept any future invitations from Frank
Correy. Nice as he otherwise seemed, he was not a man who, upon further acquaintance,
was likely to become converted.

The first person she saw when she and Mr. Correy entered the Coffin Brothers'
Hall was Tony. He was dancing with a pretty little blonde girl, smiling down on her as if
she was the only person in the room.
Good. I'm glad he's not pining away for me.
She did her best to ignore him, but it seemed as if every time she turned around, there he
was.

Standing with Mr. Correy's friend, Patrick Newell, at the refreshment table after a
particularly energetic polka, she fanned herself with her hand and said, "I'm really enjoying
myself. There's been little time in my life for play, these past few years."

Mr. Newell's eyebrow went up. "Oh? Have you been so busy promoting the cause
of women's suffrage, then?" Had his lip curled along with his eyebrow?

"No, I--" Lulu wasn't sure she wanted to reveal exactly what her previous job had
been. He impressed her as having little sympathy for the less fortunate. "I was working for
a...a relief society, helping people who had been displaced find new homes."

"Really? How noble of you." His drawling tone dismissed her efforts and told her
he didn't care to learn more.

If only she could simply abandon him to the punchbowl. Unfortunately she had
better manners. Before she could think of an innocuous topic of conversation, Tony and
the pretty blonde girl joined them.

"Hello Lulu," he said. "Miss Hathaway, have you met Miss King?" He merely
nodded at Mr. Newell.

The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, you're that 'Votes for Women' person. How brave
you are, speaking out as you do."

"I hope what I said struck a chord, Miss Hathaway. I'm delighted to meet
you."

"Oh, yes, me too. I mean, I'm pleased to meet you, Miss King." She recited the
polite words in a soft little voice, ending with a giggle.

Lulu looked to Tony and lifted her brows in question.
How old is this
child?
she wanted to say. Instead she compensated for his bad manners. "Mr. Newell,
may I present Miss Hathaway?"

"Charmed, I'm sure."

With a great show of eyelash fluttering and another soft giggle, Miss Hathaway
allowed Mr. Newell to kiss her hand.

Lulu noticed Tony was not pleased. Was he truly smitten with this child? She
hoped not. He deserved better.

Is that a bit of the green-eyed monster speaking?
Of course it wasn't. She
didn't want Tony for herself, so why should she resent his interest in other women?

Mr. Newell gave Miss Hathaway a far more charming smile than any he'd wasted
on Lulu. "Are you engaged for the next dance?"

When the girl accepted, Mr. Newell said to Lulu, "Since you and Mr. Dewitt are
old friends, I trust I can leave you safely in his care?" Without waiting for a reply, he led
Miss Hathaway to the dance floor.

"Well, I guess he put me in my place," Lulu said, more amused than insulted at his
discourtesy. She glanced at Tony, inviting him to share her amusement.

His scowl showed her how unfunny he found Mr. Newell's behavior. "Somebody
needs to teach him some manners," he muttered.

"Oh, come now. Miss Hathaway is the prettiest girl here. He's probably
smitten."

"That's no excuse." He stared at the couple, who had walked across the floor and
were standing by the stage. Newell was speaking to the orchestra leader. "I suppose we
could dance too," he said, without looking at Lulu.

"Don't do me any favors. It's not as if there aren't a dozen men here who'd enjoy
dancing with me."

"Oh, hell, Lulu, you know I'd enjoy dancing with you. But you told me to go
away, so I didn't reckon you'd want to."

"I don't, particularly, but I'll be darned if I want to stand here without a partner."
Mr. Correy had disappeared, and joining the line of chaperones and wallflowers didn't
appeal to her one bit. "I'll dance with you," she said, knowing her reluctance was plain in
her tone.

He gave her his arm and led her to the dance floor just as the first bars of music
were played.

Oh, no! It's a waltz!

His hand on her back was warm. As he swung her in a circle, she realized he was a
graceful dancer, sure and strong. Her eyes were at the level of his shoulders, and she
concentrated on the decorative stitching of his lapel. It was far less distracting than
thinking about the faint, spicy scent of him, so different from the bay rum Mr. Correy had
anointed himself with.