THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER Page 7

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 c
ould 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.

  "Where do you live?" Mr. Eagleton asked when she'd closed the trunk.

  "At the corner of Carbonate and Second Avenue, in a duplex house. Mine is the apartment farther from the corner."

  Eagleton gestured for her to precede him up the hall. "If you'll wait, I'll send for my buggy and take you home. I'd like to talk to Tony."

  "Thank you, but no. I can walk to my lodging in less time than it would take you to send the message. You're welcome to call later, of course." After I get some clothes on him. What would this mistrustful gentleman think to find him naked in my bed?

  * * * *

  The britches were welcome. As soon as he was decently covered, Tony called, "You can come in now."

  Lulu entered, carrying a quart jar. She set it on the bedside table and said, "Lie down on your stomach. I want to put this on your back."

  Because the burns hurt like the very devil, he obeyed without question. When she removed the still-damp compress, it felt as if she took half his skin with it. He bit back a curse.

  "Am I hurting you?"

  "No...yes, but go ahead. If I know Eagleton, he'll be here any minute."

  She picked up the jar. "I wish I knew if this was the right thing to do. If only you'd let me get the doctor."

  "You're doing fine. I don't like doctors." They tended to look too closely for his peace of mind.

  She sniffed, but said nothing.

  Something cool touched his back. It didn't exactly soothe the pain from the burns, but it somehow changed it. He could feel her fitting a new bandage, but it wasn't damp, as the compress had been.

  "Can you sit up? I need to tie this on."

  He did, and she wrapped strips of sheeting around his chest, until the bandage on his back felt secure. When she held out his shirt, an old chambray one, faded almost to white and soft from many washings, he found there was only a slight discomfort as he moved.

  "This is the only one that buttons up the front. I didn't think you'd want to raise your arms too much tonight." She bent before him and buttoned the front. Her face was inches from his. "I think you should leave it untucked and loose."

  Before she could straighten, he caught one of her hands. "Lulu--"

  "Let go. Please."

  He lifted the hand and kissed it. And caught a faint, sweet scent. "Honey?"

  She pulled her hand free. "Mamma used to put it on burns. She said they healed faster and didn't leave such awful scars. I couldn't think of anything else."

  "You put honey on my back?"

  "Uh-huh. But nobody will know. You don't smell sweet or anything." She swiped her hands together. "Now, let me fix up your hand."

  He held it out, wondering how he was going to test anything with his right hand. He should have listened to Aunt Hattie and learned to do more with it.

  "Can you make the bandages smaller?"

  She removed the last layer. "I'll try, but I want to make sure the honey coats all the burns." She poured a dollop of honey into his palm and used her fingers to spread it over the blisters. When they were all well-coated, she handed him a fat roll of sheeting. "Take hold of this."

  He did, once more feeling how the honey seemed to take much of the sting from his burns.

  Lulu used narrow strips of sheeting to hold the roll in his palm and keep his fingers closed. Although his hand was still useless, he realized she'd left his thumb free to move. "There. How's that?"

  He rotated his wrist, found he could close his thumb on the roll. "It feels much bette
r. And I may be able to use it enough to do the tests tomorrow."

  "If you can't, I could--" she paused as a knock sounded on the door. "That will be Mr. Eagleton. I'll let him in."

  Tony followed her slowly. In his mind, he completed her sentence. Yes, he would ask her to help him test the switchboard tomorrow, even if he was able to do it alone. How had he ever convinced himself he'd be able to forget her?

  Eagleton was accompanied by another man, one whose black bag proclaimed his profession. Argument did Tony no good. Within a few minutes, he was back in the bedroom, being unwrapped by Doctor Lewis.

  "Honey, hmmm?" He laid the bandage aside. "Turn a little, get some light on this. Yep, blistered good. Hmmm."

  Tony felt his fingers touching lightly along the edges of the burns.

  "Got a little too close to the fire, hmmm? Heard you saved Mrs. Tompkins. Broke her ankle when she fell, but that's better'n burning to a crisp. Hmmm. You're gonna be sleepin' on your belly for a week or two. Lay down. I want to put more of that honey on."

  Obediently Tony stretched out.

  At last the doctor pronounced him under excellent care. They both went back into the parlor, where Mr. Eagleton sat, leafing through a magazine. He laid it aside. "Well?"

  "He'll be fit as a fiddle in a week or so. The girl knew what she was doing."

  "That's a relief. Thanks, Ned."

  "My pleasure. I'll see you Tuesday, as usual." The doctor left, after refusing Tony's offer of payment.

  "You look like you've been drug through a knothole backwards," Eagleton said, once they were alone.

  Tony ran his hand through his hair, knowing it did little good. Soot and grime coated each strand, stiffening them until he was sure he looked something like an angry porcupine. "I know. Look. Mr. Eagleton, I'll pay you back for the doctor. My pocketbook's in the other room--"

  "Ned won't take your money. He'll win more than that from me in our next poker game. Now, what were you thinking, coming to this woman's place? You trying to blacken her name?"

  "I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. The office was locked. My keys...I must have lost them."