THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (9 page)

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Authors: Judith B. Glad

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Historical Fiction

BOOK: THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER
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His body was smooth and golden. But the gold was marred by dozens of red burns,
from fingertip-sized to the one on his calf that was larger than her palm.
What
a shame, like defacing a work of art.

The big burn on his calf was blistered and weeping, too. She wet another towel and lay
it across his leg.
I wish I could turn you over, but I want to take care of your back first
of all.
She hadn't noticed any serious charring of his clothing on the front, and crossed
her fingers she wasn't missing something important.

And then she saw him.

Before he had been like any injured creature, in need of her help. An object of
concern, of pity.

Now she saw the man. A perfect, golden body, like a marvelous sculpture. Broad
shoulders with well-defined muscles spread from the straight indentation of his spine. His
wide, deep chest tapered to a slim waist and hips, and his tight, round buttocks were
relaxed now but still firm. His thighs were as muscled as his shoulders, his calves those of
a man who knew how to walk all day long. His feet, dirty from soot and mud that had
found its way into his boots, were slim and long, the toes straight.

She wanted to touch him. To stroke her hands from his shoulders to his buttocks,
to feel him tighten under her touch. Her hands itched to feel the flex of his thighs, to
explore the tender backs of his knees, to rub the tiredness from his calves. She wanted to
wash his feet, wanted to stroke each tendon with soapy hands, slipping her fingers between
his toes and massaging across his insteps.

Mouth dry, she backed away from the bed before she could lay hands upon him. If
she touched him, right at this moment, she would not be able to stop.

Snatching up the basin and the used towels, she almost ran to the kitchen.

Some time later, calm and in control of her wayward emotions, Lulu returned to
the bedroom. He still lay as he had, prone, his face turned away from the window. His hair,
usually combed back in a careless wave, covered his forehead. Fresh blood stained the
pillow under his mouth. She set the basin on the table and went to see why he was
bleeding, kneeling beside the bed.

The deep scratch from the corner of his mouth to the middle of his chin seeped
blood. He must have scraped the scab loose against the pillow. It didn't look deep enough
to be dangerous, but she'd clean it anyway, as soon as she put fresh compresses on his back
and calf. Before she rose, she smoothed his hair back, to make sure there were no burns on
his forehead. His face was warm and her hand wanted to linger. Long ago she'd traced the
thin, white scar with her fingertips, and she did so again, gently, tenderly.

Pay attention!
she told herself. With great deliberation, she pulled the
sheet up and covered him to the waist, leaving his left leg bare. It did no good. She could
still see his naked body.

Lulu had not reached the ripe age of twenty-eight without learning self discipline.
She banished the vision of golden skin and strong legs and set herself to doctoring an
injured friend.

* * * *

Oh, hell, I fell asleep in the sun again
, was his first thought. His back was
on fire and his left hand felt as if he'd pulled a burning stick from the fire. Aunt Hattie was
going to skin him alive. She'd warned him time and again to stay in the shade this time of
year.

He opened his eyes, and looked upon white linen instead of grass.
What the
dickens?

The light was dim, the air cool.
Have I been sleeping here all day
--

A door opened and he turned his head toward the sound. Just in time to see a
woman enter and pull the door closed behind her. A small woman in a slim skirt, a woman
with tousled curls. "Lulu?" His voice was a croak.

"Good. You're awake. We need to see if your front is burned as badly as your
back." She set a basin on the stand beside the bed and laid a stack of towels beside it.

Still confused, he said, "What are you doing here?" He tried to turn to face
her.

His back screamed. He gasped and fell face down.

A soft hand touched his upper arm. "What is it? Are you in pain?"

He heard the words but couldn't answer. All he could see was flames, surrounding
him, licking at his back, roaring higher and higher, until the whole world was aflame. He
was trapped.
Don't breathe! Don't move! Stay there!

But the flames devoured the wooden box that covered him and licked at him, at
his back, at his leg, at his hand. He pulled himself into a ball, but the flames still saw him.
Still ate at his back as he rolled away and tried to make himself even smaller.
"Aaaahhhhhhh!"

"Tony!
Tao Ni!
You're safe. Please. You're hurting yourself."

No. No. Nononono!
He fought the hands that wanted to feed him to the fire.
"No! Let me go!" His fist struck soft flesh.

"Ouch! Darn you, it's me. Lulu. Now hold still, or I'll tie you to the bed."

"Let me--
Lulu
? What...where...?"

"You're in my bed. You're burned and exhausted. You said there was a fire. That's
all I know. Now will you lie still and let me take care of you, or shall I tie you down?"

His mind finally made sense of what his eyes were seeing. The dim room where
he lay was unfamiliar, but the woman who bent over him was not. "Lulu." Somehow just
the feel of her name on his tongue gave him a great sense of wellbeing. He rolled onto his
back.

And rolled right back again as pain exploded from his upper back. "Whoosh!
What happened? You said a fire?" With a bit of experimentation, he found a relatively
comfortable position, on his right side. "I've been burned?"

"Blistered. I had to soak your shirt off. Can you remember what happened?" While
she spoke, she dipped a towel into the basin, wrung it out. Now she laid it across his back.
The pressure hurt, but the cool moisture felt good.

He did his best. Crazy images danced through his mind, but no coherent memories
surfaced. Shaking his head, he said, "A fire, and I was helping fight it. But I don't
remember where or why." He started to run his fingers through the hair dangling across his
eyes and stopped when his hand refused to open. Air hissed between his teeth as he inhaled
to keep from yelling. He cradled the hand against his chest.

"Your hand? Let me see." Gently she pried his protective fingers away. "It's too
dark. I'll open the blind."

He squinted against the bright light when she ran the roller shade up.

"Now," she said, settling herself on the side of the bed, "let me see."

His fingers were glued to his palm. He could move his thumb, but that was all.
Only after Lulu had soaked the whole hand in tepid water was she able to pry the fingers
open. They both stared at the imprint of an ornate doorknob burned into his palm. Serum
from the blisters on his fingers had held his hand closed.

"Now I remember. Mrs. Tompkins was trapped! She was screaming. I went to her,
practically threw her out the window." While Lulu gently laved the hand, and he tried to
ignore how much her ministrations hurt, he told her of his living nightmare. His hand was
wrapped with soft cloth and she had laid a fresh compress across his back when he
concluded, "We worked like demons, getting all those horses and mules out. I don't think
many of the rigs were saved, though. When I left, they were still checking for smoldering
places on the roofs across the alley and on the south side of the street.

"All I could think of was going home. And you were as close to home as I could
get."

Chapter Six

About half past two o'clock yesterday morning an alarm of fire sounded
through the streets of Hailey proceeding both from the cries of men and the fire bell in
front of Coffin Brothers' hardware store.

The Wood River News-Miner

~~~

Lulu bit her lip, wondering if taking him in wouldn't turn out to be the worst
mistake she'd ever made. She wanted to hold him in her arms and comfort him, to assure
him that this was indeed home.

She wanted him as far away as he could possibly be, as soon as he could get there.
"You probably shouldn't stay here."

Confusion showed in his eyes, then comprehension. "Oh, hell, Lulu. I never
thought..." He started to lift himself, paused when he realized he was naked under the
sheet. "My clothes?"

"I took them off of you," she admitted. "They were burned, filthy." The blush she
could feel reddening her face should have brightened the room. "I'll go to the Merc--"

"Wait!" Moving carefully, he rolled to his side and sat up with only a few soft
grunts and hisses.

She kept her eyes carefully averted from the sight of his broad chest.

"My trunk-- Damn that smarts! My trunk's in the storeroom at the office. My room
at the boarding house was too small, so I just took the bare essentials and left the rest
packed. I'm pretty sure I left some britches and a couple of shirts in it. And my 'skins." He
glanced up at her, looking like the boy she'd once loved. "Your pa made them for me.
Remember?"

"I'll bet they don't fit," she said, keeping her tone light, as her traitorous memory
showed her a picture of him in sleek, clinging buckskin. "How do I get into the storeroom?
Do you have a key?"

"There's one in my pocket. But Mr. Eagleton should be there." He paused, as if
he'd recalled something important. "Great God. We're supposed to test the whole system
today. I've got to go--" Holding the sheet around his waist, he stood. Swayed. Sat back on
the bed. "Lulu, go to Eagleton's office. Tell him--" Breath hissed through his clenched
teeth. "Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can."

"It's almost four. Too late to do anything today. But if you'll promise to stay in
bed, I'll go talk to Mr. Eagleton and see if I can find you something to wear."

"But--"

"Promise!"

Slowly he let himself down onto his side. She could see the knots at the corners of
his jaw that told of the effort every move cost him. "I promise. But I'll be there tomorrow.
Tell him that."

Quickly Lulu made ready for a trip to town. Fortunately she had one utilitarian
bonnet that would completely cover her hair. All she'd done since Tony's arrival was pull it
into a knot at the top of her head. Taming it was usually a quarter-hour's task. She checked
on him before she left, and found him sleeping again.
Good. Mamma always said that
sleep was nature's own physician.

As she walked, she realized she had no idea what system Tony was supposed to
test. She knew he wasn't building a bridge, but she'd never bothered to find out what his
job in Hailey was. She hadn't even known who his employer was.

That's terrible! No matter how confused your feelings about him are, he's still
family.

The fire's devastation became visible as she turned from Carbonate onto First. The
entire end of the block between First and Main was gone, reduced to a pile of charred
timbers and blowing ash. The very thought of Tony's having been close to the fire that had
done this sickened her.
He could have been killed!

Unable to resist, she crossed Main and walked south, staring at the burnt-out
buildings. On the Fourth of July she had sat on the porch of the Grand Central Hotel and
watched the parade. Now it was nothing but a pile of sodden charcoal. As she reached the
crossing, she saw, cater-corner from where she stood, a window bearing the legend
Abner C. Eagleton &; Co., Real Estate and Investments.
So she wouldn't
have to ask directions after all.

The middle-aged man behind the desk looked up as she entered. He smiled and
rose, coming around the desk to meet her. "Well, now, that's what I needed. A pretty face
to brighten my day. What can I do for you, miss?" He pulled an armed chair up and
motioned her to be seated.

"I...Tao...Tony Dewitt," she stammered, uncertain how much she dared tell this
man. "He was burned in the fire--"

"Good God-- Beg pardon, ma'am." He cleared his throat. "I mean, how terrible. Is
be badly hurt?"

"No, but he's exhausted and he's worried about the work he was supposed to do
today. He asked me to let you know he'd be here tomorrow to do it. And he needs some
things from his trunk. If I could--" She realized he was regarding her with some
suspicion.

"Oh, dear, you must be wondering who I am and what business it is of mine."
Putting all the charm she could into her tone and her smile, she held out a hand. "I am Miss
Luella King. Mr. Dewitt and I are relatives of some sort. We've known each other for
years."

"He never mentioned you."

"We've...we've been estranged for some time, you see, and--"

"I see."

She was fairly certain he didn't see at all. Tone crisp and businesslike, she said,
"Mr. Dewitt came to my door this morning and all but collapsed at my feet. I took him in
and cared for him, as any decent person would. He is burned, as I said, but more painfully
than seriously. And he is exhausted. When I left him, he was sleeping. But while he was
awake, he was extremely concerned about the work he was doing for you and wanted you
to know he was not malingering. Now, if you will show me where his trunk is stored, I will
retrieve the items he asked for." Standing, she looked at him expectantly.

He looked right back, still suspicious. After a moment, he turned aside and said,
over his shoulder, "They're back in his office. Through here."

He led her along a hallway into a large room containing a small table that seemed
to be serving as a desk and a larger one with a sloping top. It stood on long legs, so one
would have to stand or use a high stool to make use of it as a writing surface. Curious, she
stepped closer and saw precise drawings of something that looked like a bridge.

"Here's the trunk."

"Thank you." She knelt and opened it, conscious of Mr. Eagleton's scrutiny of her
every move. The tray held some books, a few small bundles in brown paper, a spectacles
case, and a packet of letters. She saw that the top one was from Aunt Hattie. She lifted the
tray and set it on the floor. Underneath were a few garments, carelessly folded, the
buckskins, a sheepskin coat, another paper-wrapped parcel, and a pair of high laced boots,
worn and shabby. She took all the clothing and the boots, set them on a chair, then
replaced the tray. As she started to close the trunk again, she paused and picked up the
spectacles case. Inside was a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles with one earpiece detached.
Realizing she hadn't found his spectacles when she undressed him, she added it to the pile
on the chair. Tony's vision had been excellent when he was a child, but perhaps he needed
them for reading now.

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