Summer of Dreams (7 page)

“That Beckwith motor you used in the greenhouse generator will be outdated soon, but it was probably the best choice for so small a task,” her father said, continuing to outline generator and turbine development—but something about what he’d just said didn’t make sense.

“Father, how did you know Clyde used a Beckwith motor in the greenhouse?”

“He just told us at dinner how he built that generator,” her father said.

Evelyn closed her eyes and recalled the conversation in her
mind. She had an exceptional memory and was quite certain the word
Beckwith
had never been mentioned. “No,” she said pointedly, “all he said was that he used a pre-built motor in the generator. So how did you know it was a Beckwith?”

Her father looked annoyed at her comment, but she wasn’t going to let this drop. Something was going on here, and she intended to get to the bottom of it. She glared at Clyde, then back at her father.

The details were starting to click into place. Her father wanted her to quit dreaming about college, forget about her improper interest in technology, and get married to a respectable army officer. He was well aware of how much she despised the prospect of being married to an itinerant soldier, which was probably why he’d spent so much time at dinner blabbering about the possibility for Clyde to be stationed in Washington, D.C., for the great renovation of the city.

“Have the two of you been conspiring behind my back?” she demanded. “Does this account for Father’s bizarre good mood?”

Clyde looked startled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about . . .”

“Don’t look so innocent,” she snapped. “How would my father know about that Beckwith motor unless you told him?”

This was simply awful. She had trusted Clyde and considered him one of her dearest friends, but how foolish she’d been to forget Clyde was the most ambitious, driven, money-hungry man she’d ever met. Had their entire friendship been launched as a means of getting close to her father? While she had been savoring the memory of last summer, while they built the waterfall and waited for the hummingbirds to hatch, had Clyde been there for an entirely different reason?

Clyde stood. “Evelyn, I’ve never met your father before tonight. I swear—”

“Did you exchange letters? Speak on the telephone?”

Her father used his booming general’s voice. “Your manner is most unbecoming for a respectable young lady.”

“It’s my fault, Evelyn,” Romulus said. “Clyde didn’t have anything to do with this.”

She stared at Romulus, aghast. “You did what?”

“I knew Clyde needed to meet your father. I’ve never known a man so suited to the world of engineering as Clyde, and I wanted to smooth his way. I’ve been keeping your father informed about Clyde all along. I think you’ve been a bit stubborn about holding Clyde at arm’s length, and your father agreed.”

She turned to look at her father, who matched her glare for glare. It appeared Clyde had been handpicked to be not only appointed to her father’s Corps of Engineers, but to have his daughter’s hand, as well.

Clyde beckoned to her. “Evelyn, could we go for a little walk? I think I could use some fresh air.”

It was snowing outside, and the air was freezing . . . but he was right. They didn’t need to have this conversation before prying eyes.

Clyde’s heart pounded in a combination of panic and exhilaration. He’d never asked Romulus to intercede on his behalf with the general, but he was grateful that it had happened. He only prayed Evelyn believed it.

Everyone studying engineering at West Point knew of General White’s cantankerous temper, confirming all of Evelyn’s warnings. He’d been as surprised as she by the jovial man who greeted him at the front door. He couldn’t blame Evelyn for being irked at the interference, but as they stepped outside, he scrambled for a way to sooth her ruffled feathers. The sleet had subsided and had been replaced by fat, puffy snowflakes gently falling in the moonlight.

“Let’s go down the front walk,” Evelyn said. “Otherwise, I’ll suspect my father of eavesdropping.”

The walkway was slippery, and she accepted his hand to guide her down the steps and the path. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? They both wore gloves, hats, and scarves, but holding her hand still felt marvelously intimate.

“It’s true what your father said about Washington.”

“About all the construction?”

He nodded. “By the turn of the century, it will look like an entirely new city. The old brick buildings will be torn down, replaced by buildings and monuments to rival the glories of Ancient Greece. It’s going to take decades to build.”

And Clyde wanted to be a part of it. He didn’t care where he lived, just so long as he could use his God-given talents to be a part of the technological revolution that was sweeping the nation. If General White was willing to appoint him to one of the long-term projects in Washington, what was to stop Evelyn from considering his suit? They could settle into a nice home together, and he could provide Evelyn with the stability she’d always craved.

“I see,” she said pensively.

“Do you? Do you understand what this could mean for you? For us?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him. Her skin looked pale in the moonlight, so lovely she could be an alabaster cameo.

“You are putting a lot of faith in my father. He could assign you to a project in Washington, then move you to Montana the following year. Or a war could break out, and then he’d have no choice but to send you wherever the Corps is needed.”

How was he going to break through the natural layer of caution she hid behind like a turtle retreating into its shell?

“Evelyn, just for a moment, can we forget that I’m destined for the army and admit that what we have between us is some
thing extraordinary? This kind of attraction and unity is rare in the world, and we can’t be careless with it. I love you. No matter how much you push me away or wish I was something other than what I am . . . I love you.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened at his declaration, and she turned her head away, but she didn’t look displeased. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I’m a very cautious person, and I don’t rush into things—”

“We’ve known each other for seven months, and I’ve been in love with you for six.” He hadn’t meant to reveal so much, but this evening had gone so perfectly he felt invincible. For the first time, he could truly envision a life that would suit both him and Evelyn down to the ground. There were colleges in Washington that accepted women, and if he was an officer, he could afford to send her to one of them. He could work on the construction of monumental buildings that would survive into the next millennium.

Evelyn never wanted to risk things unless she could see the plan before her in exquisite detail, so he would paint that picture for her.

“There is a neighborhood in Washington that’s lined with poplar trees that shade the walkways in front of the shops and cafés. We could have an apartment there, one that overlooks the park and is a quick walk from the cafés below. I would work on the new government buildings, while you could go to college.”

Evelyn looked dazzled, her eyes wide and mouth open, but she struggled to keep a thread of practicality in her tone. “My goodness, you are quite the dreamer,” she said, even as she clasped his hands tighter.

“Dreams are all I’ve got, but they’re a powerful force. They forge nations and spur revolution. If I weren’t a dreamer, I’d still be off-loading crates in the Baltimore harbor.” Hope gathered inside, growing stronger and more powerful.

He pulled her into his arms, and she didn’t resist. Her hair was soft along the side of his face, smelling of lavender and endless years of happiness. “In the mornings we will go downstairs to the café to have coffee and sweetcakes while I read the newspaper and you prepare for class. What would you like to take your first semester? Chemistry? Philosophy?”

“Something fun and frivolous,” she whispered. “Maybe the history of engineering.”

He smiled and drew her tighter against him, the snow settling softly around them. Evelyn White might possibly be the only woman in the nation who thought a class on the historic principles of engineering would be fun and frivolous, but that was one of the reasons he adored her.

“Trust me,” he said, barely able to speak through the grin on his face. “We can be brilliant together despite this uniform.”

Her father left in the middle of January, and Evelyn returned to Aunt Bess’s home on the outskirts of town. The distance from campus made it hard for Clyde to visit, so she met him each Saturday in the library. For the most part, they simply studied side by side at one of the worktables. While Clyde studied for a demanding round of engineering tests, she sat beside him and read quietly on her own. It seemed such a charming, domestic activity, and she loved every moment of it.

Everything in her life was falling into place. Against all odds, she’d found a man whose love of technology matched her own. Even better, Clyde was willing to support her ambition to go to college. While he prepared for his final exams, she studied for entrance into college.

By April, it was time to begin preparing the greenhouse for the next season. She’d written to Romulus for advice on the best fertilizer for spring but had yet to hear back from him,
which was odd. Normally he wrote to her weekly, but perhaps his final semester of classes was as demanding as Clyde’s, for she had not heard anything from Romulus in almost a month.

She and Clyde always sat at the same table, on the second-story balcony overlooking the reading room below. One of Aunt Bess’s requirements for allowing her such freedom was that she be in plain view the entire time she was with Clyde. Not that Clyde would dare take liberties with General White’s daughter, but it was best for both their reputations to obey her aunt’s instructions.

The fact that they remained in the same spot each Saturday was how the senior cadet on duty at the library was able to find her so easily. She was studying the nutrients to add before spring planting, and Clyde was looking at a page of mathematical equations that looked like ancient hieroglyphics, when the young officer approached and leaned over to whisper quietly to her.

“Miss White? You are needed downstairs. A woman is here to see you.”

What an odd comment. “A woman? My Aunt Bess?”

The young officer cleared his throat. “She doesn’t look like anyone’s aunt, ma’am. It would be best if you came downstairs to handle the situation immediately.”

She and Clyde exchanged confused glances, but both pushed away from the table and followed the officer down the winding staircase.

Oh my . . . she could understand the officer’s embarrassment. The woman loitering in the lobby wore face paint and a bodice cut so low she was in danger of exposing herself.

“Can I help you?” Evelyn asked the woman, whose shocking red hair was a shade that surely could not be found anywhere in nature.

“Yes,” the woman said. “I’m Nellie Sweetwater. I work in a dance hall in Boston, and Romulus and I used to be . . . well,
special friends, I suppose you could call it. That is, we were until that Laura woman got her hands on him. Now she’s all he can think about.”

Evelyn’s mouth went dry. Whatever this woman’s association with her cousin, this didn’t seem good. “And?”

“Romulus is in trouble,” Nellie said. “Something really bad has happened, but he won’t tell me what. No one can get him to come out of his room, and the other men in the dormitory say he is crying all the time.”

Evelyn was so aghast she couldn’t even draw a breath, but Clyde took over.

“Crying?” he pressed. “That doesn’t sound like Romulus. He’s always in good spirits.”

“Not anymore,” Nellie said. “He stays in his room and drinks until he’s sloppy drunk, then he starts blubbering like a baby. I don’t know what to do for him, so that’s why I thought I’d come to you. Someone needs to do something before he drinks himself to death.”

Evelyn’s fear ratcheted higher with every word Nellie spoke. It sounded so uncharacteristic of Romulus, but the fact that she hadn’t received any letters from him in weeks gave credence to Nellie’s story. Something was deeply wrong.