Into the Whirlwind (39 page)

Zack sat behind a desk, reviewing stacks of papers, his handsome face carved into stern lines. He did not rise when she entered.

It was too hard to look at him. Instead, she glanced around the office, noting its stark walls yet to be adorned with any decoration. The room was empty except for a desk, a filing cabinet, the chair he was sitting in, and another empty chair. The floors were bare, and her heels made loud echoing sounds as she crossed the room.

“Hello, Zack,” she said, her breathless voice echoing in the stark office. It still smelled like sawdust. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest. “Forgive me, I’m a little winded from the stairs.”

He tossed a piece of paper on the desk. “I have four hours of
paper work and only three more hours of daylight, so I hope you can make this quick.”

So . . . no thaw in his chilly disdain. Zack still hadn’t bid her to sit down, and she swept the cap from her head to give her hands something to do. “The store is coming along splendidly. You must be very proud.”

He kept glowering at her. He’d probably been practicing that glower since he first learned to order rowdy longshoremen into line, but she needed to find something to set a cordial tone.

“And your parents?” she asked pleasantly. “They are doing well?”

“Miss Knox, I assure you, there is no need to go through these little pleasantries. I would prefer it if you got to the point and stopped wasting both our time.”

She stepped forward and lowered herself into the chair opposite him, feeling a little starch go out of her spine. Zack was a blunt, direct man and appreciated her sense of business. She licked her lips and swallowed hard. “You once procured diamond powder for me,” she said, still unable to meet his eyes. “I suspect it came from Caleb Magruder’s mill. Did it?”

There was an infinitesimal quirk of one brow. “You suspect correctly.”

She drew a ragged breath. “The 57th has recently expanded our business to include clocks. We’ve got the contract for the clock tower at a bank on State Street, and I need the work of a skilled industrial metalworker. Mr. Magruder is my only option, and he has proven . . . difficult.”

“Caleb Magruder is always difficult. Get used to it.”

She went back to fiddling with the beret in her hands. “He won’t do business with me because I am a woman. And because he had some kind of alliance with Potter Clockworks, even though they’ve gone out of business. In fact, he had a whole
slew of reasons for not making a center post for me, none of which make much sense.” She looked up to meet his gaze. “Do you have any pull on Caleb Magruder? Anything you can say to smooth my way?”

Zack’s face remained blank, but his eyes glittered. “What makes you think a stray dog would have any pull with Caleb Magruder?”

She flinched, and the memory of his wounded face flashed in her mind. Shooting to her feet, she paced in the open floor space, her heels echoing in the room. “You have cause to resent me,” she said, sounding a little breathless again. She owed him some sort of explanation for the harsh words. Something to soften the anger still simmering beneath his stony exterior. She lifted her chin and looked directly at him. Her mind went blank. The only thing she could think to say was the truth. “I was clumsy that day. I had no experience with romantic entanglements, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I was stupid and scared. I’m sorry.”

There was no change in his hard face. “So, what exactly do you want me to do for you?”

“Can you help persuade Caleb Magruder to accept my commission? You know how this city operates, and I don’t.”

“Miss Knox, are you suggesting I use my sweaty strong-arm tactics on your behalf? What would the fair-haired Colonel Lowe think?”

She glanced away and began pacing again. She didn’t want to discuss Richard with Zack. “Colonel Lowe has been a tremendous help to me, but he doesn’t know this city like you. He hasn’t been able to help.”

“Hasn’t, or won’t?”

Last night, she had spent an hour with Richard in the workshop, showing him the progress they were making on the clocks,
the two thousand dollars they had already spent on parts, the beauty of Alice’s new clock design. The faceplate had already been built and layered with two hundred dollars’ worth of enameling. None of it had made an impact on Richard. “This is a foolhardy plan,” he had said. “If I help you, it will be throwing good money after bad.”

She turned back to face Zack. “Richard doesn’t have any pull on the industrial mills of this city. He is a stranger in Chicago.”

Zack shot to his feet, bracing his hands on the desk, and scrutinized her like she was a bug pinned to a card. “Richard Lowe is one of the biggest railroad engineers in the state. He designs bridges and tunnels. You think he doesn’t know his way around a few industrial mills?”

Her shoulders sagged. If she wanted Zack’s help, she couldn’t keep skirting the issue. “You are correct,” she said simply. “He could help if he wished to. He won’t.”

The hint of the smile that curved Zack’s mouth reminded her of a wolf. “So the golden Colonel Lowe has finally started playing tough, and you don’t like it. What is it that he wants, Mollie? For you to quit the company? Marry him and move back to Waukegan and have you scrap all these audacious plans?”

She winced. That was exactly what Richard wanted, and it was bothersome how clearly Zack read the situation. She didn’t know how to respond, so she walked to the window, staring down at the dozens of workmen below.

“Does he know you are here?” Zack asked from behind her.

“No.”

A fresh bolt of anger laced through his words. “Then you shouldn’t have come. Get out of here, Mollie.”

She whirled around, feeling her last hope slipping away. “Zack, I wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t important.” She scrambled for the words, knowing her company—her father’s company—hung
in the balance. “The 57th will go under unless I can figure out a way to earn more revenue. That’s where the clocks—”

He cut her off. “Dr. Buchanan told me all about your venture into clockmaking. Good luck with it, but I can’t help you.” He strode to the office door and held it open. With every moment, she felt the foundation crumbling beneath her feet.

“And Mollie, don’t come here again.”

The door closed behind her with a smack.

28

B
y all that was holy, that woman had a lot of nerve.

Zack stalked down the street, anger roiling through him. He had spent his morning digging out from the financial avalanche that was pouring down on the company’s head. Bill collectors were threatening to repossess merchandise if he couldn’t pay them, a new lawsuit about city zoning had landed on his desk, and another insurance company had just defaulted on their payments. A crate from Paris had arrived with a gilt-covered chandelier Josephine had purchased for the outrageous sum of thirty thousand dollars, and the sellers wanted payment immediately. A construction crew across the street had broken a water line, so the plasterers could not get back to work for another two days. Which meant another delay in reopening the store and finally generating some revenue.

In the middle of this, Mollie Knox had strutted back into his life.

He had been burned by that woman. Scalded. Even now, months after he ought to have consigned her to his past, all she had to do was waltz into his office like a damsel in distress, and he was putty in her soft little hands. Instead of a meeting at the bank to restructure Hartman’s loan, he was dashing across town to go make nice with Caleb Magruder.

Who was vastly amused by Zack’s request. Magruder grinned as he wrestled with replacing a belt sander on a polishing machine. “Yeah, I remember her. She was gonna let me gouge her on the price of a center post. Too bad I don’t do business with women.”

Zack leaned against the grainy wall of the equipment repair room, casually folding his arms across his chest. “You were going to
gouge
someone on a price? I’m so disillusioned.”

“Just earning an honest dollar.” Magruder grabbed a wrench as big as his forearm and began twisting the bolts into place.

“How about if you made an honest dollar building a center post for the 57th? You served in the Civil War, didn’t you?”

“Battery D, First Light Artillery,” Magruder said, a glint of pride in his eye.

“Then build the lady her post. She employs a bunch of crippled veterans.”

Zack thought it might spark a note of sympathy in Caleb Magruder, but he needed to quit overestimating the man. Magruder picked up a rag and began cleaning his grimy hands. “Hey, didn’t I make some diamond powder for you last year? The kind watchmakers use?”

Zack knew better than to answer, and Magruder pounced. “Yup, it is all starting to make sense to me now. Of course, last year I didn’t know the watchmaker had such pretty blue eyes, or I’d have charged you double. This one is going to cost you, my friend.”

Zack pushed away from the wall. “I’m not your friend, and I already
know
it’s going to cost me. The question is how much?”

The thundering bang on the front door caused Mollie to rear up in alarm, the jeweler’s loupe dropping from her eye. Everyone
else in the factory also stopped work, but the pounding on the door continued. Five loud, hard blows that sounded like someone was assaulting them with a battering ram.

Mollie rushed across the floor and up the short flight of steps. Whoever was pounding so obnoxiously was probably leaving gouges in their brand-new door. “For heaven’s sake, can’t you knock properly?” she shouted as she tugged the door open.

Caleb Magruder stood on the other side, a nine-foot steel center post balanced across his beefy shoulders. He had been beating on her door with it.

“Here’s your center post. If you want more, there are conditions. And I need a down payment.”

She went light-headed. This had to be Zack’s doing. The beautiful center post glinted in the sunlight, made to the exact specifications she needed. Even as Zack had fumed and glowered at her, he had still cared enough to make this happen.

“Lady, this thing is heavy!”

She stepped back. “There is room along the back wall. Oliver! Alice! Come help me clear some space.” It was going to be a tight fit. They’d need to move things down into the basement, but heavens, that center post was dazzling! Breathtaking! A watch center post was the length of a grain of rice, while this was taller than she was!

Everyone in the factory stopped working to stare in open-mouthed wonder at the monster center post, and for the first time in months, Mollie felt the bud of creative energy inside her stir awake. She could start assembling the bank clock today.
Today!
The moment Caleb Magruder set the huge column down against the wall, she couldn’t resist. She grabbed his shoulders and hugged the most disagreeable man in all of Chicago. “Thank you! Oh, thank you!” she babbled.

“Don’t thank me until you hear the terms. Kazmarek has conditions.”

Her breath froze. Pushing away from him, she looked up in trepidation. “He does?”

“Yeah, lady, he does. I made this center post as a goodwill gesture. If you want the other eight for your contract, you need to meet Kazmarek’s conditions.”

Her hand trembled as she gestured to the office at the back of the workshop. She knew it wasn’t money Zack wanted. The disdain in his face that day in his half-finished office was scathing, and he wasn’t going to make this easy.

When Mr. Magruder told her what Zack wanted, she was struck dumb. “He wants
what
?”

Mr. Magruder shrugged his massive shoulders. “I told him it was insane too, but he insisted. He wants you to make three dozen of those Copernicus watches, or the deal is off.”

The strength left her knees as she sank against the surface of her desk. Mollie had forgotten about that autumn evening beneath the chestnut trees in the Krause Biergarten when Ulysses had proposed a watch celebrating the accomplishments of the great Polish astronomer by using gemstones to portray the solar system. The plans had never advanced beyond the talking stage because of the fire. It seemed like more than a decade had passed since that magical evening, even though it was less than a year ago. She’d mentioned them to Zack later, but he had never shown much interest in the Copernicus design in the past. Why would he feel so passionate about it now?

“I have no idea,” Mr. Magruder growled. “All I know is that he is willing to strike a deal with me over the center posts, provided you come through with those watches. Otherwise, the deal is off.”

Mr. Magruder had no additional information. When did Zack
want the watches delivered, and most importantly, who was going to buy them? Never had Mollie made so many watches of one design, especially one as unusual as the Copernicus watch.

She would rather cozy up to Ghengis Khan than deal with Zack, but there was no way she could get her center posts without getting more details about this outrageous demand.