Page 71 of Inventions of the Heart

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

JUST AS THEY WERE FINISHINGthe noon meal, a big wagon drawn by six mules pulled into Zane’s yard, hauling the first waterwheel. The factory had enough orders they were running double shifts to make the wheels, and this first one showed up almost before Michelle expected it. They’d finished rerouting the stream and digging out the trenches only the night before.

“I told the men we will all go out and work on the wheel. Everyone is eager to see how it’s going to work.” Zane smiled. “Including me.”

The women and children even came. It was almost a party.

Michelle had the mule skinner take the wagon straight out to the stream. She was glad they could have the skilled driver maneuver the huge wagon as close as possible. They had a tree trunk of the proper width ready to thread through the center hole of the waterwheel. It was hard work to line everything up just right and get the wheel in the trench Jilly had directed the men to dig.

By the time they had the wheel off the wagon, Zane hadstripped to the waist, and was sweating along with his men as they heaved the wheel—one of the smaller ones the ironworks made but still a heavy machine—into the hole prepared for it. Then they threaded the log and seated it deep into the bank of the river. The log stretched the width of the river and was anchored on both sides.

When Jilly was satisfied that the wheel would turn rather than be swept downstream, she said, “Let’s open up that waterway.”

The men had to wade into the stream and heave out rocks. The cool water was better under the burning summer sun than working on the banks had been.

They didn’t have to move all the rocks before a trickle of water surged back into its natural course. As the rocks were thrown aside, the trickle grew faster. Finally, when the waterwheel was hit with a strong enough current, it slowly began to turn. It worked a pump that sent water gushing out onto the ground. The first of the water seemed to soak into the thirsty ground, but soon the shallow trenches they’d built filled with water and flowed out through the pasture.

Zane dipped his hands into the water as it flowed through the chinks in their manmade dam. The water flowed around his waist as he turned to watch the cascade pour out of the wheel onto his dry land. He stopped moving the rocks and cupped his hands into the water and drank deeply. Then he laughed, and the men, still getting soaked along with him, joined in. Zane waded out of the water and went straight to Michelle.

“You did it.” He dragged her into his arms, soaking her dress.

“You’re all wet!” She squealed and slapped at him, but there was laughter in her voice.

“Stop playing and get to work,” Jilly said. “We need to move rocks until we drop below that trench we dug, so all the water will flow into its natural banks and turn the wheel at full speed.”

Jilly, still working, still building. But she smiled at the flowing water.

The other women watched the water with wondering eyes. The few children toddled for the shallow trenches filling with water, and their mothers let them splash.

The men smiled as they went back to work with renewed energy.

Everyone’s spirits were sky-high.

THE RESTOF THE WATERWHEELSwere hauled straight to the ranch, but the boilers were smaller and delivered to the general store in town.

Zane was in a good mood from watching the grass turn green in three pastures now as August crept along. He had several to go, but it was enough to get them through the summer. And by next summer, they’d have every pasture irrigated.

A few times a day, Zane caught himself thinking about how much he loved the supply of hot water that flowed right into a tub. All Michelle’s ideas so far were great ones. Now she was talking about something called a shower bath. Hot water pouring down on your head instead of pooled in a tub. That really would be a wonder.

When he got word that his boilers had come in, he and Michelle decided to ride to town with Shad coming along behind in the wagon.

As they rode, they passed grazing land that was pure brown, the grass crisp.

“No stream in this one.” Zane swept his arm out to include the whole meadow. “This one and a couple of others have springs in them that give the cattle enough water to survive, except in a drought year like this. This year the springs have gone dry.”

“That’s what the windmills are for. We can water the cattle with tanks or build a pond, and we could irrigate using the water the windmill will pump out.”

“I’m going to have to cull my herd even more because of the drought.”

“How long does it take for the herd to grow back when they’re culled deep?”

Zane tilted his head a bit. “We’d be set back some. I’d probably just not have many cattle to sell next year. So a year with very limited income. But this year’s income will be high.”

He smiled at Michelle. “And your irrigation is already helping. Before you did that, I was going to have to sell a lot more cattle. Thank you. And a windmill could get up and working fast. We’ve always had decent rains here, and I’ve gotten by in other dry years without putting one up.”

They continued on their way, and Zane mentioned finding water using a water witch, a forked branch of wood that dipped toward the ground when it passed over water. That was the usual way to decide where to dig a well.

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