THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (7 page)

"What made you come with Frank Correy tonight? He's way too young for
you."

She pulled back so she could look up at him. "Too young? Nonsense. He's
twenty-three."

"And you've just turned twenty-eight. Does he know?"

"Tony, I'm not going to marry the man, for heaven's sake. He invited me to the
dance, and I came. That's all." He dipped and spun, catching Lulu by surprise. For a brief
instant their bodies were pressed closely together. Lulu's breath seemed to catch in her
chest.

To hide her reaction, she said, "I have to admit I'm disappointed in him. I'd
thought he was more open-minded, from his remarks last summer. Now I realize his
notions about a woman's place are every bit as old-fashioned and short-sighted as yours.
But he is a good dancer, and I've enjoyed myself."

They danced in silence for several minutes. "I'm not old-fashioned. Women should
have the vote."

Once again she pulled back to look at him. His jaw was set and his mouth firm.
But his eyes, as they looked down into hers, were warm and friendly. "They should? I
mean you really believe...?"

"Of course I do. I'd be stupid not to. Great God, Lulu, with women like Aunt
Hattie and Soomey and your ma around, how could I not believe?"

"But you seemed--"

"I'm not against what you do, so much as against you doing it. It's damn
dangerous, and I keep thinking of all the fixes you could get yourself into. You're a
revolutionary, Lulu, and that's not conducive to a long and comfortable life."

"Oh, pooh! You make it sound as if I'm in constant danger
." I wonder what
he'd say if I told him about North Carolina.

"Not constant, no. But I still have nightmares about that rock almost hitting you,
on the Fourth. Sooner or later you're going to get hurt."

Soberly she looked up at him. He was honestly concerned about her safety, and
the knowledge should please her. Instead it worried her, given the way he wanted to keep
everyone he loved safe from all harm.

"There are no guarantees in life, Tao...Tony. You could walk across the street and
get run down by a freight wagon tonight. Or I could be in a train wreck. Or choke on a
bone at dinner tomorrow. Anything could happen."

"Yes, but there's no need to go out looking for danger."

"I don't. I take the greatest of care to avoid disputative situations. I've dedicated
my life to the achievement of universal suffrage and equal rights in America, but I won't
die for either cause."

The music ended then, which was a good thing. She might have said something
she'd have later regretted.

Tony walked her to the opposite side of the room where Mr. Newell and Miss
Hathaway waited, clearly in great charity with one another. With them was Mr. Correy,
who apologized for having disappeared. "I stepped outside for some fresh air," he
admitted. Lulu heard the slight slurring of his words and was unsurprised. With no alcohol
allowed in the hall, the young men who were without partners generally went out to take a
nip or three.

He seemed in command of his faculties, though, so she said nothing.

Mr. Newell relinquished Miss Hathaway to Tony. "What a nice girl she is," Lulu
said, watching the young woman cling to Tony's arm as they walked away, "but very
young." She didn't mean it as a criticism, merely as an observation.

"Youth is not to be disparaged, Miss King. I found her refreshingly naïve
and agreeable."

Yes, you would.
Aloud she said, "I'm sure she is agreeable, Mr. Newell.
And so pretty too." Lulu wondered what time it was. All of a sudden, she was weary and
wanted only to remove her shoes and loosen her corset.

As if they'd read her mind, the orchestra struck up "Good Night Ladies." Lulu
forced herself to smile up at Frank Correy and take his hand when he said, "Shall we
go?"

During the long trip back to Hailey, he said, "I hope you and Patrick got along. He
has become my particular friend. Such a well-spoken, interesting gentleman. I wish I could
dance as gracefully as he does."

"He is a good dancer," Lulu said, not sure she could agree with anything else. "We
had little opportunity to speak, dancing the reel."

"My impression was that there was some strain between you. Did he offend you in
any way?"

She got the impression he would defend her honor if need be. "Of course not. I'm
merely somewhat tired, after all the traveling I've done. My enthusiasm for anything but a
good night's sleep seems to have flown."

They spoke little after that. She suspected the liquor he'd drunk was making him
sleepy, but to his credit, he remained awake, if not alert, throughout the thirteen-mile
journey back to Hailey.

At the door of her apartment he said, "Thank you for a pleasant evening, Miss
King. Perhaps you will allow me to see you again."

"I would enjoy that very much, Mr. Correy. Thank you for an entertaining
evening." She stepped back, held out her hand for him to shake.

He bowed over her proffered hand. His lips barely brushed the skin.

At least he hadn't tried to
really
kiss her.

The brick and stone work of the first story or basement of the new Court
House was completed yesterday. The force will commence work the first of next week on
the water table upon which the second story will be built.

Wood River News-Miner

~~~

Heaven was supposed to be a reward for a life of good works and moral virtue.
For Lulu, heaven was the week she spent in Portland, meeting with local and regional
suffrage workers, assisting Abigail Scott Duniway with correspondence, and generally
making herself useful. Mrs. Duniway was so pleased with her work that she asked Lulu to
return in a few weeks when she would be absent on a speaking tour. As Lulu was waiting
to board the upriver steamer, she said, "I must say I'm pleased you've stepped into the void
in Idaho and Montana, Miss King. With your able assistance, we will see women voting
throughout the Northwest before many years have elapsed. Perhaps we will see women
enfranchised in Idaho's constitution, when statehood is declared."

Lulu was elated and humbled, all at once. At the same time, she continued to
worry that perhaps some of the people involved in the suffrage movement might be
forgetting that women were not the only Americans whose civil rights were being
withheld, by law or custom. Laws, even amendments to the Constitution, did not guarantee
equal treatment if they were not enforced.

As the stage carried her through the Blue Mountains, she saw signs that winter
would soon be here. Frost had left patches of brilliant yellow and red on the hillsides. Dry,
golden bunchgrasses blew in the wind and the tamarack needles were starting to turn. Soon
travel would become difficult. A small part of her looked forward to staying in one place
for weeks on end. There was a stack of unread books waiting for her in Hailey, and a snug
little apartment she itched to turn into a home.

She made speeches in Payette, Caldwell, and Boise, where she stopped over to
visit her almost-cousin. Regina Lachlan was living in her parents' big house while they
traveled, and was already eager for them to return. "I rattle around in here, even though
I've got the upstairs closed off."

"What you need is a housemate," Lulu said, "or a husband."

"A husband?
You
think I need a husband? The self-proclaimed
spinster?"

"Just because I don't intend to marry doesn't mean I don't think other women
should." Lulu took another of the delicious pastries she'd bought in a little bakery uptown.
"I always expected you to marry early, and here you are, twenty-seven and still single.
What's wrong with Idaho men?"

"When I find a man as decent and strong as Pa, or your father, I'll marry. Not
until." Regina whisked the plate of pastries out of Lulu's reach. "Enough! You said these
were for breakfast."

"Oh, but they're so delicious." Licking her fingers, one by one, Lulu pretended to
pout.

Indolence felt just fine, she thought the next day, as she still lay abed at
midmorning. How long had it been since she'd had a holiday? A real one, when she could
read all night and sleep all day if she wanted to?

Somehow there never seemed to be time. When she had been in the South, she
always felt as if she was working against time, that the powder keg of resentment and rage
left from Reconstruction was due to explode at any time. As it had the night the Klan came
to Reverend Thomas's church.

"No! " she told herself, eyes tightly shut against remembered horror, "don't think
about it."

But the visions remained, hovering at the edge of her thoughts. When Regina
came home from school, they went riding along the river road. The wind in her hair, the
taste of dust, and the laughter she could not contain banished everything but pure joy.

The next morning Regina went off to teach young ladies the principles of natural
history and chemistry, dropping Lulu off at the stage station on the way. As the big coach
rocked and swayed through the sagebrush desert, she relaxed and allowed herself to
contemplate having time enough at home to hang her pictures, finish the sweater she'd
been knitting for almost a year, and even read a book or two simply for pleasure.

* * * *

Everything was in place. The waterwheel was operating smoothly, generating
power to keep the batteries charged. The switchboard was wired in, with its big wet cells
charged and ready for the first calls. Tuesday he'd deliver the last of the batteries to
subscribers, then he'd test the entire system one last time. Tony sat back in his chair,
wondering what he'd forgotten.

He had twelve businesses hooked up, and five to go. The crews were setting poles
and stringing wire to Bullion and Bellevue. As soon as those two towns were connected,
he'd start them on the line to Ketchum. Jack Denman, the daytime operator, was trained,
although Tony still had reservation about putting someone so young in such a responsible
position. Two substitute operators were also ready to go, one the printer's devil at the
Wood River Times
where the switchboard was set up, the other a fellow who
claimed to have worked at the telephone exchange in Atlanta. Tony was skeptical, but he'd
seemed to know what he was doing, so they'd hired him to work on Sundays. Eagleton
wanted a second night operator too, but Tony had convinced him to wait until business
warranted paying another man. The one they had now would probably sleep soundly most
nights.

There wasn't any more he could do tonight. Maybe everything he'd forgotten
would come to him in his sleep. He'd had those dreams before, the ones where everything
he hadn't done haunted him.

Besides, there was a dance at the Hailey Theatre tonight, and he had asked Miss
Minnie Hathaway to go with him.

* * * *

Imajean's baby had gotten past the red, squashed stage, for which Lulu was
grateful. She had long ago decided that most mothers were afflicted with maternal
blindness. There could be no other reason for them to think newborn infants were
beautiful. Young Terrence was fair of skin, with the dark blue eyes typical of children only
two weeks old. His shock of dark hair stuck out in tufts, giving him the appearance of a
particularly mischievous imp. With a clear conscience, Lulu assured his proud parents he
was a beautiful child.

After dinner Miss Petersham accompanied Mr. Teller and the other guests on a
walk to settle their digestion, while Lulu and Imajean visited. They caught up on the latest
developments in the battle for women's suffrage and Lulu told all about her planned return
to Portland. "I hope you'll have a chance to meet Mrs. Duniway someday. Perhaps you can
accompany me on one of my visits to Portland next spring."

Imajean regarded her fingernails for a moment before she said, "As for that, there's
something I have to tell you." Again a hesitation. "I've given much thought to this, Lulu,
and I want you to know I've made the decision after much soul searching."

Avoiding Lulu's eyes, she went on. "I've decided I can't be active in the movement
for a few years. Not until Terrence--and the sister we hope to give him in a year or
two--are older. It wouldn't be fair to them, to have a mother who puts herself in dangerous
situations--or could be arrested. And I couldn't be effective staying here at home. So I'll
step back and let others carry the banner for a while." Her hands clenched into fists and she
stared down at them. "I...I hope you'll try to understand."

"Of course I do." Lulu squeezed one of Imajean's hands. "One makes choices, and
not everyone should make the ones I have."

"Have you never wanted to marry, to have children?" Imajean looked down at
Terrence, sleeping peacefully, and drew a finger across his cheek. His little mouth pursed
and made suckling motions. "I never realized how wonderful it could be, to hold my own
child, to feel him nuzzle against my breast. It's...there are just no words to describe the
feeling."

"I've thought of it," Lulu admitted. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm really suited for a
single life. I get lonely..." As she had more often recently. As she knew she would for
many nights to come, until she banished all thoughts of Tony Dewitt. Completely and
permanently.

If she could.

"You said it, though. It's not fair to a child, to put one's self deliberately in
dangerous situations. I would make the same choice you did, and I would resent having to
do so." She smiled down at the baby. "Just the same, I have a yearning, sometimes. May I
hold him?"

Imajean handed her the child, carefully. Lulu took him just as carefully, but old
skills came back. She cradled him in one arm and took his tiny hand. "I have a few cousins,
but was seldom around when they were babies. One forgets how very small they are. And
how perfect."