The Brickmaker's Bride (9 page)

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Authors: Judith Miller

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“Laura! What are you doing here?” Winston Hawkins strode toward them. “I’m surprised to see you alone in the hotel lobby with Mr. McKay.”

Laura’s cheeks flamed a bright shade of pink as other guests in the lobby turned toward them. “You need not worry over my whereabouts, Winston. I believe my mother still claims that duty.”

Winston’s features went slack, obviously surprised by Miss Woodfield’s terse reply, while Ewan fought off the urge to laugh aloud. He doubted Mr. Hawkins would be pleased by any form of levity.

Hoping to lighten the mood, Ewan hastened to explain that he and Laura had met by chance outside the general store.

He planned to tell Winston how they’d arrived at the hotel, but Laura interrupted him. “No need for all this explanation, Mr. McKay. We are conducting business in a public place in the presence of many people. We’ve not breached any rules of etiquette.” She looked up at Mr. Hawkins. “And should someone think my behavior improper, it does not concern me.” Turning around, she picked up her pen. “Now, where were we?”

Ewan hoped her remarks would be enough to send Mr.
Hawkins on his way, but the lawyer did not budge. Instead, he pulled a chair to Laura’s right and sat down.

Lofty sycamores and poplars shaded the hillside where Ewan and Laura stood. Their position offered a clear view of the towering banks along the Tygart River, where the clay cutters he’d hired only days ago had begun their work. Ewan walked down the hill a short distance and shaded his eyes against the sun. No Irishman could slice into the face of a clay deposit with any greater skill. These brawny West Virginia clay cutters he’d hired were a sight to behold. They stomped on the rims of their razor-sharp hand shovels, and with the precision of acrobats, they balanced themselves just long enough for the shovel to cut through the layer of clay. The strokes were as fast and neat as those of an expert surgeon. Then, with a strong flip of the wrist, the heaping shovelful of clay would land in the dump cart. The driver held the reins taut, careful to keep the horses steady while the cart was being filled.

“They’re good men. Treat them fair and you’ll get a good day’s work. When you begin production next spring, most of them will work an extra stint. They’re always glad for the added wages.” Laura stepped closer and pointed toward a muscular Negro man. “I’m pleased to see Jessie Sprolls down there. He’s the best clay cutter in the state. I thought maybe he went to work over at the coal mine.”

“He did. But when I told him I wanted to hire him, he said he’d rather work at the brickyard. Said working in a coal mine didn’t suit him. He’s the best cutter I’ve ever seen. Where’s he from?”

Laura hiked a shoulder. “He just showed up one day looking for work. If you’re wondering if he was ever a slave, I don’t know,
but I do know he fought in the war. He left Bartlett about the same time as my father. He has several children. They sometimes came and brought him lunch.” When Ewan made no move, Laura touched his sleeve. “We should begin going over the books. I don’t think Mother will want to stay here too long.”

He gave a slight nod. “I’d much rather go down and shovel clay, but you’re right. I need to begin learning.”

Laura’s mother had settled in a chair near one of the office windows overlooking the brickyard. She looked up from her knitting when Laura and Ewan entered the frame building. “Good morning, Mr. McKay. I know you’re a trustworthy young man, but I thought I should come along to act as Laura’s chaperone. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression.”

Ewan grinned. Laura must have mentioned Winston’s comment at the hotel several days ago. “I’m happy to have you join us, Mrs. Woodfield. I’ll do my best to learn quickly.”

“Laura didn’t want to move all of the papers and books to the house, but if I grow weary, I fear you’ll have to humor me. Unlike my daughter, I’ve never enjoyed being out here. I much prefer my home.”

Several hours later, Ewan’s shoulders ached from bending over the books. He stretched his arms and leaned back in his chair. “It’s a good method you have, but I’m not as quick with figures as you.”

She chuckled. “In time, it will become easier; it takes practice.”

The click of Mrs. Woodfield’s knitting needles ceased. “If you’re going to continue working, I suggest we go back to the house. It’s nearly time for lunch. Catherine will be worried if we don’t return soon.”

Laura sighed. “You could return home, have lunch, and ask Catherine to pack a basket for us. I’d like to finish today, Mother. The only person who might come here would be someone look
ing for work. As I said earlier, I don’t think you need to worry about maintaining social mores out here in the brickyard. There were many days when I worked alone in this office while Father was off negotiating contracts.”

“Well . . .” Wrinkles creased the older woman’s forehead. “I suppose you’re right. Though I don’t want to shirk my duty as a mother, I do want to go home for a while.” She packed her yarn and knitting needles into a cloth bag. “If I decide I’m too tired to return, I’ll have Zeke bring a basket lunch out, and he can stay here for the afternoon.”

Laura stood, kissed her mother’s cheek, and walked her to the door. “Whatever you think best, Mother.”

Watching the love and friendship between the two women was a lovely thing, but as they bid each other good-bye, Ewan was struck with an undeniable longing for his three sisters. Leaving them in Ireland had been the most difficult decision of his life. Had his uncle not promised to bring the girls to America as soon as possible, he would have remained in Ireland. His sisters needed him. And he needed them.

“You appear to be pondering something significant. Is it my fractions, or has something else captured your thoughts? Something regarding your uncle, perhaps?”

Ewan forced himself back to the present. He didn’t want to admit the fact that his thoughts had nothing to do with the business. She’d think him as indifferent as Uncle Hugh. “There is another matter you might help with. My uncle is still unhappy there is only one VerValen machine. He’s determined to have at least two. I believe it’s a matter of pride. He wants to have more and better machinery than other brickyards. I’ve convinced him to wait until we’ve secured orders, but he wants to move forward so the money is available once there’s a need. He doesn’t want a delay down the road. Earlier, Mr. Hawkins mentioned he would
help with a loan, but when my uncle mentioned it to him, he said we should wait. Is there someone else who might help?”

“I feel sure Winston will reconsider and change his mind. He’s on the board of the Bartlett National Bank. Since he’s familiar with the sale of the brickworks and your uncle’s financial status, there should be no problem. I’d be happy to speak to him. I’m sure he’ll change his mind.”

Ewan didn’t like the idea of asking for Winston’s help, but he’d ask for her recommendation. He could hardly ask for another without giving a good reason. He could say he didn’t like Winston because he feared the man was vying for her attentions. But such a comment might guarantee he’d never again see Laura Woodfield.

And he didn’t want that to happen.

Chapter 8

L
aura stood in front of the hallway mirror. After smoothing the black satin bow beneath her chin, she pinned her navy wool felt hat in place and stepped back from the mirror. The hat proved an unexpected match for her traveling suit with black braid trim. The red stripes in her white shirtwaist added a slight hint of cheerfulness to her otherwise plain suit. Perhaps she should have chosen something a bit more colorful. No. The suit would have to do. They’d be late to catch their train if she took time to change.

A pang of guilt shot through her as she completed her preparations. Since she couldn’t be at the orphanage this week, she’d promised to stop by and deliver the kaleidoscope she’d received from her father years ago. Mrs. Tremble had agreed to oversee the children as they took turns viewing the various designs created by the instrument. A quick glance at the hall clock was enough to reveal there wouldn’t be adequate time. Perhaps Zeke could stop at the orphanage and make the delivery after driving them to the station. Otherwise Kenneth and the other children would be sorely disappointed, and she didn’t want that to happen. They’d all had enough disappointment in their young lives.

Stepping onto the front porch, she gestured to Zeke, who had the horse and carriage waiting for them. “You ready to leave, Miss Laura?”

“Mother will be down momentarily, but since we’re running a bit late, would you stop at the orphanage and deliver this to Mrs. Tremble?” She held out the gaily decorated kaleidoscope.

Zeke stared at the object and nodded. “’Course I will. But what is it, Miss Laura?”

“It’s called a kaleidoscope. Hold it toward the light and look through this end.” She pointed to the small hole at one end of the tube. “Then turn the other end near the glass and the designs will change.”

While Zeke peered through the object, Laura hurried back inside to fetch her mother. She’d been looking forward to this trip for several weeks. Ewan had gone over all the contracts, and together they’d made a list and contacted architects and contractors in the Wheeling and Pittsburgh area to schedule meetings.

Eager to begin negotiations, Ewan had already met with a contractor in Fairmont. The man had agreed to consider purchasing from their brickyard, but not until he had an opportunity to examine some of their bricks. He’d promised to hold the bid open until after C&M Brickyard—the name they’d settled on for their business—began production in the spring. The news that the contractor would need bricks for the construction of a new hotel and office building had excited Ewan, but his uncle was unhappy that the man hadn’t signed an agreement, and he blamed the lack of success on Ewan’s failure to present the letter of introduction Mrs. Woodfield had offered.

Laura had seen the hurt in his eyes when Ewan reported his uncle’s accusation. In an attempt to cheer him, Laura had expressed doubt that her mother’s letter would have made a difference. She didn’t tell him that knowing the right people could
make or break a business, but so could a superior product. She’d assured Ewan that if the bricks produced by C&M Brickyard maintained the same quality as those made by Woodfield Brickworks, Ewan would eventually secure the contract in Fairmont. But Laura and Ewan both knew it would take more than anything she said to impress Hugh Crothers. He wanted a signed contract.

“Has Zeke loaded our baggage into the carriage?” Laura’s mother appeared at the top of the stairs in a violet wool suit adorned with narrow silk trim. “There isn’t time to dally.”

“Our trunk and bags are in the carriage, and Zeke is waiting on the front porch. I believe the only thing missing is you.” Laura waved her mother forward. “Did you remember your headache powders?”

Her mother tapped her reticule. “They’re in here. I want to keep them close at hand.” She descended the stairs and came to a halt. “What are we waiting for? Let’s be on our way.”

Laura arched her brows. She’d been downstairs for the past fifteen minutes. “Mr. McKay is going to meet us at the train station.”

“And Winston?” Her mother glanced over her shoulder as she exited the front door. “Will he be meeting us there or is he joining us later?”

“He plans to take the late afternoon train. There was a meeting he needed to attend this morning.” Laura accepted Zeke’s help into the carriage and sat down beside her mother.

The groomsman leaned close. “That’s a mighty fine toy, Miss Laura. I’ll be sure to get it to Mrs. Tremble, and I’ll tell her to take good care of it for you.”

“Thank you, Zeke.” Laura smiled at him before turning back toward her mother. “Winston wanted us to wait and travel with him, but I thought you’d want sufficient time to rest, since we have two meetings tomorrow.”

“I’m glad you didn’t agree. You know how train rides affect me.” The older woman patted her reticule. “I always need my headache powders and a rest once we arrive at our destination.”

Laura patted her mother’s hand. “You can rest as soon as we get to the hotel. It’s good that we’ve divided the journey and will have several days in Wheeling before we go to Pittsburgh.”

Her mother nodded. “I agree. I’m sure the meetings will bore me to tears, but I do want to help Mr. McKay. Since I told Mr. Crothers that his nephew was the better choice to negotiate contracts, I certainly don’t want him to fail. If he doesn’t meet with success, I doubt Mr. Crothers will ever let him forget.” The leather carriage seat squeaked a protest when she twisted toward her daughter. “You did tell him to pack evening wear for the social events we’ll attend, didn’t you? I wouldn’t want him refused entrance for being improperly attired.”

“I told him when we first began planning the trip so that he would have time to make any necessary purchases. When I mentioned the need, he thanked me for advising him.”

“Dear me, I do hope he doesn’t appear in some sort of outlandish attire that he brought with him from Ireland.”

“You talk as if people in other countries don’t attend social gatherings or wear formal clothing, Mother. Don’t tell me you’ve let Winston influence your opinion regarding immigrants.”

“Of course not. I didn’t mean to sound prejudiced against the young man. I simply don’t want him to be embarrassed.”

Laura gave her mother a sideways glance. “You don’t want him to be embarrassed, or you don’t want him to embarrass you, Mother? Your comment sounded like the latter.”

“Do stop, Laura. You’re exaggerating a trifling comment. I like Ewan McKay and don’t think less of him because he’s Irish. We have several acquaintances of Irish descent. Now, does that settle the matter?” Mrs. Woodfield pulled a handkerchief from
her reticule and blotted her face. She looked at her daughter. “Aren’t you warm?”

The October day was far from warm, and her mother’s question about the weather, along with the heightened color in the older woman’s cheeks, alarmed Laura. Immediately regretting she’d taken her mother to task, Laura placed her palm on her mother’s forehead. “You don’t feel as though you have a temperature. Did my comments upset you, or are you fretting about the meetings?”

Her mother shook her head. “No. You’re always permitted to speak your mind. You know that. As for the meetings, I do find them boring, but as long as they don’t go on too long, I’ll be fine. Of course I’d much rather have tea with my friends or go shopping for a new gown. Seeing the ladies at a ball or social gathering doesn’t permit time for a genuine visit.”

“I’ll see if we can’t make time for you to have tea with a few of your friends while we’re here. I know you’ll want to see Laurane, if possible. Did you write and let her know we’d be visiting?”

Her mother and Laurane had been friends since their school days in Wheeling, and both had lost their husbands during the war. Laurane’s first husband, John Bullock, had been a Union soldier and had died during the early months of the war, but the loss of Laura’s father hadn’t been until much later. The deaths had created an even stronger bond between the two childhood friends. Her mother had rejoiced when Laurane met and fell in love with Governor Boreman. Laura had accompanied her mother to Wheeling and attended the elegant yet simple wedding. With the country still suffering from the scourge of war, Laurane had insisted upon a quiet, very private affair. Though some of her friends had encouraged a gala wedding to cheer the public, Laurane’s restraint had gained respect from her husband’s constituents.

She’d offered comfort when Laura’s father died, and even though her duties hosting formal gatherings and traveling with the governor kept her busy, the friendship between the two childhood friends remained strong.

Laura’s mother tapped her reticule. “I received a return letter from her last week. She and the governor will be attending the ball tomorrow evening. She said once I had a better idea of my schedule, she’d be sure to make time for us to have a long visit.” Her mother frowned. “We’ll see if that’s possible. Laurane has more important social obligations than a visit with me.”

When they arrived at the train depot a short time later, Zeke unloaded their baggage while Laura escorted her mother inside. “You can sit down over near the window. I’ll see to our tickets.”

Her mother made a slight turn, her gaze traveling every inch of the small depot. “Where is Mr. McKay?” The concern in her voice matched the worried look in her eyes.

“There’s no need to fret, Mother. He’ll be here. These meetings are important to him.” With her mother settled on one of the wooden benches, Laura crossed the room to the ticket window. Before she had time to complete her purchase, the depot doors opened and Ewan entered, carrying a traveling bag in each hand. His gaze riveted on her, and her breath froze.

Over the past weeks, she’d done her best to deny the happiness that swept over her whenever Ewan entered a room, but her efforts had met with little success. Instead of remaining aloof, her stomach fluttered with anticipation at the sight of him. The reaction made her feel like a silly schoolgirl, yet she could no more control her feelings than she could stop the sun from rising in the east.

His lips tilted in a smile. Did he realize the slight curve of his lips enchanted her?

He rested his hand on the counter near her own. “I hope you
weren’t concerned. I had planned to be here earlier, but there was a bit of a misunderstanding with my aunt and her sister.”

The railroad agent pushed Laura’s tickets across the counter, and she tucked them into her reticule. “I do hope you had sufficient time to set things aright before departing. Leaving on a trip is always difficult if things are unsettled at home.”

Laura remained at Ewan’s side while he purchased his ticket and then accompanied him across the depot waiting room, where they settled beside her mother on the wooden bench. “Ewan had a bit of trouble at home, so he didn’t arrive as early as expected.” Since her mother had expressed worry over his late arrival, Laura thought it sensible to explain.

Ewan leaned forward. “I wouldn’t say it was trouble—more a wee bit of confusion.” His smile faded. “Aunt Maggie is known to take matters into her own hands from time to time, which is what happened this morning. Without discussing the situation with my uncle or me, she’d told Kathleen she could come along. My aunt decided that since the two of you were making the trip, it would be fine for Kathleen to join us.”

Mrs. Woodfield placed her palm across her bodice. “Dear me. I’m pleased you managed to straighten out that bit of trouble—not that Kathleen is trouble. I didn’t mean to imply that. But her name wouldn’t be on the guest list for the social events, and it would have proved most embarrassing for all of us.”

“That’s what I explained to Aunt Maggie. While she didn’t agree, Kathleen offered to remain home.”

At the shrill sound of a train whistle, the three of them glanced toward the platform. Mrs. Woodfield stood. “I’ll be glad when we’re finally in Wheeling. I’m thankful for the speed of a train, but traveling is most taxing when you get to be my age.”

“I’ll say a prayer that our journey will not be too tiring, Mrs. Woodfield. And I hope you know how grateful I am for your
help. I know it will give the brickworks a much greater chance of success, which is a matter that’s also in my prayers.”

“And in mine, Mr. McKay. I know your uncle still believes he didn’t receive a fair bargain, but once you begin production, I think he will agree that the contract was more than fair.”

“If there’s anything that will change my uncle’s mind, it’s seeing a profitable return on his money, and I plan to do everything in my power to make that happen.”

The train belched and wheezed to a stop outside the station, and a short time later Ewan assisted the ladies onboard. Once seated, Laura turned to Ewan. “While I understand you want to see the brickworks become profitable, I didn’t realize you shared your uncle’s intense interest in making money, Mr. McKay.”

Ewan frowned. “’Tis not making money that spurs me on, but a desire to provide a good life for my three sisters. The faster the brickworks turns a profit, the sooner my uncle will make me a true partner and I’ll be able to claim a share of the proceeds. Providing for the three girls is a bit of a challenge, and I’d like to see that they have everything they need. For too long, Rose has had to worry over every farthing that passed through her fingers. I want the girls to enjoy what’s left of their childhood.” A melancholy expression came over his face. “But I fear that Rose already thinks she’s fully grown.”

“It’s clear your sisters are very important to you. They are fortunate to have an older brother who cares so much.”

“They might disagree with you. When I was at home, they were quick to remind me I was not their da.” He chuckled. “O’course their comments did not stop me from having my say.”

Laura fussed with the tassels of her reticule. “I have a dear friend who had to care for her younger siblings. She said it so tired her of children that she never wanted any of her own.”

Ewan’s eyes widened. “Truly? I cannot imagine such a thing. Having my sisters to care for has only increased my desire to have children of my own one day. After God, I believe having a family is the most important thing in life. Don’t you?”

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