Under the Desert Sky (28 page)

BOOK: Under the Desert Sky
13.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“He was.” Phoebe knew exactly what Christian was about to say, and why he didn't.

A man stepped up to their table then and said by way of introduction, “Amon Hancock.”

“Yes, Captain, I remember you.” Christian started to stand, but Hancock held his hand out.

“No, stay seated; you and Mrs. Sloan enjoy your meal. I just wanted to say that I've looked over the report that you, Yhomas, and this Woodson fellow prepared. I'm really beginning to believe that we'll get this water project done after all.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Phoebe said.

“Yes, ma'am, it truly would.” Hancock looked at Will. “Maybe by the time this young fellow is a grown man, the valley will have so much water that it'll truly be a Garden of Eden. Well, I'll leave you; please forgive the intrusion. I just wanted to express my appreciation for what you're doing.”

“That was very nice of him,” Phoebe said after Hancock walked away.

“I'm a little uncomfortable with all the accolades. The project isn't done yet.”

“No, but thanks to you, and Mr. Woodson, it will be.”

“If so, it'll be because of Clarence, not me.”

“I'm glad Mr. Woodson was able to come out here, not only because of the water project, but because it allowed you to reunite with your friends.”

“It was good to see them again.”

“Tell me about Ina Claire.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I heard the talk about the siege, and how terrible it was. Ina Claire says she doesn't think she could have gotten through it if you hadn't been there to help her.”

“That may be true, but she also helped me. Seeing a strong woman having to go through all of that made me stronger.”

“But the time you two spent together wasn't all bad, was it? Surely you must have something pleasant to look back on.”

“Oh, yes. Before the siege, Saturday afternoons were particularly pleasant. There was always some sort of entertainment, whether it was some Brit or Dutch orchestra, with fine instruments and wonderful music, or a Kaffir band put together from the diamond-mine workers, with such instruments as they could gather. Sometimes there'd even be dances.”

“I expect Ina Claire is a very good dancer.”

“Much better than I am. What about you? Do you enjoy dancing?”

“It's been a very long time since I've been to a dance.”

“Really? Well, then, we'll have to go sometime.”

“No, I'm sure I've forgotten how to dance. That's something for you and Ina Claire. She is”—Phoebe paused, trying to come up with the correct word—“a most captivating young woman. One can't help but like her.”

“She is an extraordinary woman. She made living through that awful siege bearable.”

“Yes, I can see how she would.”

“Phoebe, I want you to know that I think a great deal of Ina Claire. As I told you, I've never had a family of any kind, so that means that people like Ina Claire, her mother and father, are very important to me, and they always will be.”

“I understand.” But did she?

“Mama, you know what I want for dessert?” Will's question was a welcome interruption to the way the conversation was going.

“What do you mean, dessert? You just had dessert.”

“No, that was my dinner. We're in a restaurant and I can have anything I want, remember? That's what Wet said. I had apple pie for my dinner, and now, for dessert, I want cherry pie.”

“Will . . .” Phoebe said.

“Oh, indulge him just this once,” Christian said. “After all, this is his first time ever in a restaurant. We should make it memorable for him.”

Phoebe shook her head. “I can tell, right now, that if the two of you gang up on me, I'll never have a chance.”

•  •  •

At the same time Christian, Phoebe, and Will were in the restaurant, many of the city's elite were having lunch in the Phoenix Country Club. Here, at the “Bankers' Table,” business competition was left behind as the bankers celebrated their affluence and importance to the city. W. F. and Frank Sloan were both there, as well as the officers of several of the other banks. Daniel Murphy, president of the Prescott National Bank, was in town, and everyone was commiserating with him over his brother's loss in his bid to be Arizona's delegate to Congress.

“There had to be some kind of shenanigans going on,” Murphy said. “He shouldn't have lost.”

“At least Oakes will keep his job as governor,” Frank said as he took out his pocketknife and began to pare his fingernails. “Bryant didn't have a chance against McKinley.”

“No, there was no question McKinley was going to win the presidency,” Charles Forbes said. “Now we'll just have to wait and see if Marcus Smith can get some traction on our petition for statehood. I'd feel a lot better if we'd elected a Republican.”

“I don't think there's a chance we'll get anything done on statehood until we get the water situation settled,” Emil Ganz said.

“Yhomas Prinsen brought in this new engineer Ben Fowler hired,” Bill Ainsworth said. “Named Woodson. He seemed like a nice enough fellow, but I don't know what he can do.”

“The question is what can that other South African do—the one who supposedly worked for Cecil Rhodes? Fowler says he's come up with a plan to get the money without relying on the government,” Ganz said.

“You mean Christian De Wet?” Ainsworth asked.

“Christian? That's not a very common name around here. Is this fellow tall . . . sandy hair, wears tall boots and jodhpurs?” Charles Forbes asked.

“That's him,” Frank said. “I think he's pulling a fast one. There's no way he worked for Cecil Rhodes.”

“Frank, why do you say that? Have you met this man?” W.F. asked.

“Damned right I've met him. Pop, that's the guy who's moved in with Phoebe.”

“Well, now, that explains things,” Charles Forbes said. “Your sister-in-law came into the bank this morning. She deposited quite a bundle of cash, but this guy—I seem to recall now, she did call him Christian—offered to pay off her interest and she wouldn't let him.”

“A bundle of cash? I wonder where she came up with that?” W.F. asked.

“Well, you can be sure she didn't make it off those damned birds,” Frank said. “She probably thinks she's hit the mother lode with this guy. You say he offered to pay her interest?”

“He did,” Forbes said. “Had a wad of cash.”

W.F. shook his head. “Poor little Will. What's going to become of him?”

“You don't have to worry about him, Pop.” Frank opened his hand where his knife lay. “Every morning when I drop my brother's knife into my pocket, I make a vow that I won't allow that woman to ruin his son.”

•  •  •

When Christian, Phoebe, and Will returned to the farm, Ina Claire was sitting in the front porch swing with Andy Patterson, and they were laughing.

“I was beginning to think you two ran off with the money,” Andy said as he rose from the swing. “It's about time you got here.”

“Wet took me to a restaurant,” Will said. “Do you know you can eat anything you want there? And nobody has to cook?”

“Someone had to cook the food, but it wasn't your mother,” Phoebe said. “Andy, Mr. Stein was amazed at what a good job you'd done grading the feathers. He accepted every one in the grade we delivered.”

Andy beamed with Phoebe's compliment. “I'm glad it turned out that way, but it was really July who made the final decisions. The more I'm around that man, the more I admire him.”

“He's a good man,” Christian said. “You both are.”

“Well, I'm going to be in a heap of trouble if I don't get you back over to Mr. Prinsen's. He says the Board of Trade is having a meeting with the Water Storage Committee, and he thinks you should be there.”

“Is it at Yhomas's house?” Christian asked.

“No, I think he said it'd be at the Dorris Theater, so we'd better hurry if you're going to make it in time.”

“All right, just let me step inside and get a jacket. I need to look like I know something if anybody asks me a question.”

“I think I'll go back with you,” Ina Claire said. “I want to tell my mother about all the work it takes just so she can have a feather in her hat.”

When Christian stepped out onto the porch, he'd put on a brown cashmere jacket. He had a black strip of cloth in his hand. “Do you think I should put on this butterfly?”

“A butterfly? You can't wear a butterfly,” Will said.

“I guess that takes care of it.” Christian laughed. “If Will says I can't wear a butterfly, then I won't.” He handed the tie to Phoebe. “I don't suppose I'll be back tonight.” Then he did something unexpected. He kissed Phoebe in full view of both Ina Claire and Andy.

“Mama, Wet kissed you,” Will said with a big-eyed expression.

“Yes, he did,” Phoebe said with no embarrassment.

“All right, Will. I'm leaving you in charge. Can you do that for me?” Christian asked as he climbed up into the wagon.

“Yes, sir.” Will stepped over in front of Phoebe.

Phoebe watched as the wagon pulled away. She'd never felt happier in her life. Her grand experiment with the ostriches had paid off, and she now had money, but most of all, there was no question she was in love with Christian De Wet.

•  •  •

Christian, Yhomas, and Clarence Woodson went directly to the Dorris Theater, where about fifty men were gathered.

“I didn't think you were going to make it on time,” Captain Hancock said when Yhomas stepped down from the surrey. “Ben is back from Washington and he's brought some gasbags with him.”

Yhomas laughed. “I take it they don't agree that we should own the water rights outright.”

“That's it,” the captain said, “and I'm afraid they've convinced Ben that the government route is the way to go.”

“It may be,” Christian said. “I know it'd be possible to raise the capital privately, but it would take a lot of cajoling.”

“More like horse trading,” Captain Hancock said. “Already Alexander Chandler and Dwight Heard are maneuvering to make certain they increase their advantages.”

“Do you think the committee still needs my services?” Woodson asked.

“Depends on whether or not they agree with what you've come up with. We'd better go on in now.”

Captain Hancock led the way, and the four found seats near the front of the theater. When they were seated, Ben Fowler began to speak.

“I want to thank all of you who came out tonight. It is my privilege to introduce several dignitaries among us. First, there's the secretary of the interior, Ethan Hitchcock—I'll be glad to serve as his interpreter for those of you who can't understand him.”

Several of the men cast questioning glances toward one another.

Then the gentleman in question rose from his chair. “Despite what Ben says, ya'll won't be needin' any interpreter. I'll just slow down a little mo', and when ya'll come on down to Mobile, why, ya'll will fit right in.”

The room erupted with laughter.

“His accent takes a little getting used to, but talking to Yhomas Prinsen gave me good practice before I went to Washington,” Ben said.

“Hear, hear,” several others called.

“That brings me to George Maxwell, and believe me, the people in Washington understand him. What shall I say your position is, George?”

“I prefer to be called an irrigation propagandist,” the man seated beside the secretary said.

“He'd rather be called that than a wire-puller,” Fowler said, “but he's a lobbyist through and through. If he can do for us what he's done for California, we'll have our water project, and we won't be out a penny of our own money.”

Captain Hancock took a deep breath and said, “That's what we're all afraid of,” his voice audible only to Christian.

For the next hour both Hitchcock and Maxwell advocated for the government to step in and take over the project, while several others advanced their ideas that the local people should control their own water. When the subject of money was brought up, they turned to Christian, and he methodically laid out his plan again. However, he could tell that the enthusiasm was rapidly turning toward government financing.

When the merits of the project had been discussed ad nauseam, Fowler introduced Frederick Newell, the surveyor from Washington, and finally he called on Yhomas to introduce Clarence.

“Thank you, Yhomas,” Clarence said when he got up to speak. “Gentlemen, I wasn't sure what I was getting into when I came here, and I don't know anything about the annual rainfall, or how much water you expect to move, but I can say that, in my opinion, where you've chosen to locate the dam is excellent. The gorge offers a favorable site for a masonry dam, and the sedimentary formation, with the strata inclined about thirty degrees to the horizontal, and dipping toward the reservoir, is a most favorable condition, both for retaining water and the stability of the dam. The foundation and rock abutments are excellent. In short, gentlemen, I see no geological or physical impediments to this project.”

“Mr. Newell, do you have anything to add?” Fowler asked.

“Nothing,” Newell said, “except that I agree entirely with Mr. Woodson and I congratulate him on the excellence of his report.”

“Then, if that's the case, I make a motion that we hire the man. Are there any objections?”

•  •  •

The next morning Phoebe was still in a good mood. Will was sleeping later than usual, and she was out watering the orange trees that Katie Prinsen had given her. Even though the trees were young, they'd bloomed, and she now had several oranges beginning to color. She hoped she could find a piece of fruit that was sufficiently ripe for Will to pick. Then she heard a vehicle approach. Smiling, she was sure it'd be Christian and they could all have breakfast together. But she was immediately on the defensive when she saw that it was Frank.

Other books

Reluctant Prince by Dani-Lyn Alexander
A Different Sort of Perfect by Vivian Roycroft
Némesis by Agatha Christie
Sex on the Moon by Ben Mezrich
Gaffers by Trevor Keane
Frostborn: The World Gate by Jonathan Moeller
The Widow's Demise by Don Gutteridge
Secrets of Paris by Luanne Rice