The Brickmaker's Bride (15 page)

Laura had been present a portion of each day since they’d begun operation. Mrs. Woodfield wasn’t pleased by her daughter’s early morning departures for the brickyard, but Laura soon convinced her that this time of transition was important for all of them. After that, there’d been no further objections.

Ewan was grateful to both of the women. He’d come to rely upon Laura’s knowledge. Even more, he enjoyed having her at his side. He dared not admit that to Mrs. Woodfield. In truth, he barely admitted it to himself, for he feared he might say or do something that would jeopardize the arrangement.

Zeke appeared out of the early morning shadows and tipped his hat to Ewan as he neared the entrance to Woodfield Manor. “Good morning, Zeke. How are you today?” Each day, Ewan watched the front door, tamping down the fear that Laura might decide he no longer needed her help.

“I’m mighty fine, Mr. McKay.” Zeke glanced over his shoulder at the front door as Laura appeared. He hurried to her side, escorted her down the steps, and helped her into the buggy.

Ewan had suggested that Zeke sleep in rather than rise so early to escort Laura to the buggy, but Zeke refused. The groomsman hadn’t minced words and put Ewan on notice that escorting the ladies of Woodfield Manor in and out of their carriages was a part of his job, and he intended to do it himself. From then on, Ewan had remained in the buggy and waited while Zeke performed his duties. Far be it from Ewan to interfere with a man’s job.

Laura settled beside him, her dark wool cape wrapped tight
around her shoulders to stave off the morning chill. She shivered as the horses trotted away from the house, and Ewan nodded toward a lamb’s wool blanket folded on the seat. “You’re welcome to the blanket if you’re cold. There’s a bit of a chill in the air, but once the sun comes up, I have a feeling we’ll be plenty warm.”

Laura spread the blanket across her lap. “I’m sure you’re right, but this blanket feels good right now.” She tucked her hands beneath the coverlet. “Was your uncle pleased to hear about the contract for the hotel in Fairmont?”

Ewan hesitated. “He wasn’t as excited as I had expected. Or had hoped.” Last evening Ewan had shared the news that the contractor in Fairmont had inspected bricks from their first few burns and was pleased with their product.

The builder was returning today to sign a contract that Laura had prepared yesterday afternoon. She’d been careful to include all of the terms and conditions that her father always included in his contracts. Both Ewan and Laura were thrilled, but his uncle had shrugged off the accomplishment.

Instead of offering a bit of thanks and encouragement, Uncle Hugh had done the opposite. “Bricks for one small hotel are like a few drips of water in a river. We need a river, Ewan, not a few drips of water. I want those big contracts from Pittsburgh and Wheeling. The ones you said we would get once we started production.” The words still rang in Ewan’s ears.

When Ewan glanced in Laura’s direction, the full moon revealed a hint of sadness in her eyes.

She met his gaze and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ewan. I truly don’t understand your uncle, or how he could act in such a callous manner. Still, I have a bit of news that might make both you and your uncle happy.”

“What’s that?” He doubted anything less than a contract that would reap huge profits would please Uncle Hugh.

“Judge Mellon wrote Mother that a friend of his, a building contractor from Allegheny City, is arriving next week to visit the brickyard and to discuss some new projects with you. Isn’t that wonderful?”

A rush of gratitude swelled in his chest. “Are you sure? What’s his name? What time will he arrive? Did Judge Mellon say anything about the size of the projects?” He hadn’t meant to flood her with questions, but they’d rushed out before he could stop himself.

She chuckled and clasped her palm against her chest. “Dear me, I don’t know if I can answer all your questions, but I can tell you his name is Archibald Bruce. Judge Mellon said in his letter that Mr. Bruce performs almost all of the construction work for Campbell and Galloway, the largest architecture firm in the Pittsburgh area.” Her lips curved into a tender smile. “Mr. Mellon added a postscript to his letter. He said he was certain you’d be pleased to know that Mr. Bruce, as well as the owners of Campbell and Galloway, is Scots-Irish and quite proud of his ancestry.”

“Aye, that pleases me very much. At least we will have something in common, and by then I’m hoping we’ll have the new frog designed for our bricks. I won’t be able to have any burned by then, but I think Mr. Bruce will like it.”

When Ewan was in Pittsburgh, Mr. Mellon had mentioned that most of the brickyards had begun using frogs that would identify the brickyard, usually using the name or initials of the yard. A frog would give builders a method to classify the durability of each brickmaker’s product. During the winter months, Ewan had worked on a design they could use to mark their bricks. He wanted the initials C and M, but he wanted something more—something special—so he’d designed a simple burning bush beneath the letters. His uncle said it looked like three flames
rather than a burning bush, but Ewan overlooked the criticism. His uncle had approved the design, which was all that mattered. Truth be told, it was the fact that they would use a little less clay in their bricks when they placed a frog in the bottom of the molds that pleased Uncle Hugh the most. If there was a way to decrease costs and increase income, Uncle Hugh maintained a tolerable attitude, but the only thing that truly made him happy was locating a gaming table where he was welcome. Fortunately, Aunt Margaret was keeping him in tow so far.

Over the past month she’d insisted he accompany her as they decided upon the location for their new house. Now that the location had been selected, she insisted that work begin immediately. No amount of explanation curbed her ongoing demands. Both Ewan and his uncle pointed out they’d done their best to locate laborers. Except for a few itinerants, they’d been unsuccessful. There simply weren’t any strong men who wanted to spend their days digging a foundation for the mansion. Most of the able-bodied men in the area who didn’t want to cultivate their own hilly farms had gone to work for the coal mines, or Ewan had already employed them at the brickyard.

Uncle Hugh had promised Margaret that several of the newly arriving relatives could dig the foundation. A promise that annoyed Ewan and would likely cause problems for all of them.

E
wan glanced down at Laura, pleased she’d agreed to come with him to the train depot. Shortly after he’d made the travel arrangements, Winston had delivered a list of times and dates when each of the relatives would arrive. He’d done his best to meet Ewan’s request and arrange immediate travel for the girls, but to secure a cabin, they would have to leave earlier than the other relatives and travel by themselves. Two of Ewan’s relatives would be following within a couple days of the three girls’ departure, and the others would come two weeks later but without cabin accommodations. Ewan had considered all of the options, prayed fervently for God’s direction, and decided his sisters should come alone on the ship so they’d have a cabin to themselves.

Laura had later explained the impropriety and the possible danger of the girls traveling by themselves, but Ewan had remained steadfast in his decision. His uncle could be as changeable as a spring storm, and Ewan hadn’t been willing to take any chances by delaying their departure.

Laura lifted onto her toes and peered out the station window.
“I do hope they’re on the train. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I’ve been praying for their safe travel and protection since before they stepped onboard the ship. I’m sure the Lord has brought them safely to me.”

“I admire your unwavering faith, Ewan.” She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m not sure how you maintain such certainty. Does God never disappoint you?”

Her question startled him. “That’s a question no one has ever asked me, but I would have to say that there have been times when I have been disappointed in God’s answer to my prayers. I prayed for my parents to live, but they did not. I prayed Uncle Hugh would let the girls come with us when we first traveled from Ireland, but he did not. There were other times, too, when God did not answer my prayers in the way I would have liked, but through my disappointment, I know He is divine and can see far beyond my limited ability. He knows what is best for each of us even when we can’t imagine how death or suffering could be a good answer.” Ewan touched his index finger to his temple. “I try to remember that we all must die and everyone must face certain tribulations in life. We live in a world filled with sin. ’Tis hard for us to understand the ways of a righteous God.”

She looked at him with a faraway gaze. “I can’t believe that everything that happens is good.”

“I did not say it was good, but the Bible tells us that all things work together for good to them who love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.” He tipped his head to get a look into her eyes, hoping to see a glimmer of acknowledgment that she believed what he’d said. She looked down and avoided his gaze, but he decided to continue. “Good can come from evil. The apostle Paul suffered, but his suffering drew him closer to the Lord. Jesus was crucified, but His death offers us the gift of
everlasting life. The Bible is filled with godly people who prayed they would not suffer or die, but they did. The stories of those martyrs strengthen our faith, don’t you think?”

Finally she looked at him. “Perhaps. But prayers that are not answered as we hope can cause some to fall away from their faith.”

Ewan turned to face her. “Has that happened to you, Laura? Have you lost your faith?” She looked so sad he wished he could pull her into his arms and assure her that God loved her and wanted only the best for her.

She forced a smile. “You see me in church every week, don’t you?”

“Aye, but sitting in a church pew does not mean everything is right between you and God. A bird with a damaged wing can still fly, but until it is fully healed, it cannot soar.” The crowd swarmed as the train drew closer to the station, but Ewan didn’t move. He looked deep into her eyes. “I think you need to heal from something, too. You do not need to tell me what it is, but I will be praying that God will touch your heart and bring you back to Him.”

As tears began to pool in her eyes, she turned away. “I hope He will answer your prayer.” She gestured toward the platform. “Come. Let’s wait outside and see if God has protected your sisters.”

The minute the girls stepped off the train, Laura recognized them. Ewan had described them well. They were beautiful young girls, all with the same clear blue eyes as their brother. Although their hair was a shade lighter than Ewan’s, the family resemblance was strong. The twins, Ainslee and Adaira, flanked their older sister, Rose, who was doing her best to keep
them in tow. The minute the twins spotted Ewan, they charged down the platform and lunged at him. Had there not been a support post behind him, all three of them would surely have toppled in a heap.

Ewan embraced them in a giant hug and then turned his attention to Rose. “I am so glad you are safe, and we are together again. I’ve been lonely without the three of you.”

Rose stepped forward and embraced her brother. “I have missed you, as well. Trying to keep these two in my sight and out of trouble during the journey was enough to make me wish we had traveled with the rest of the family.”

Ewan gave the twins a mock frown. “Did I not tell you in my letter that you were to mind your sister and not give her any trouble?”

The girls’ long braids bounced up and down as they bobbed their heads. “Aye, and we did our best,” one of the twins replied. She turned her gaze on Laura. “Are you Miss Woodfield? The lady Ewan has written about?”

Laura tipped her head to one side. “Yes, I’m Laura Woodfield. And you are either Ainslee or Adaira, correct?”

The girl smiled. “I’m Ainslee.” She gestured to her sister’s head. “Adaira is a tiny bit taller. That’s how you can tell us apart.”

Adaira giggled. “Unless Ainslee grows a wee bit. Then you’ll have more trouble.”

The girls were every bit as enchanting as Ewan had described. “Perhaps I should find some other ways to tell you apart in case that should happen.”

Adaira drew close to Laura. “You’re as pretty as Ewan said, and I like your dress.”

“Adaira!” Ewan’s face was a bright shade of red. “Not everything is meant to be repeated.”

Her eyebrows dipped low. “I didn’t tell anything bad.” She looked up at Laura. “You didn’t mind me saying that Ewan thinks you’re pretty, did you?”

Laura bit back a grin. “I always enjoy hearing a lovely compliment, Adaira. However, I believe you’ve embarrassed your brother, so perhaps you shouldn’t repeat anything else unless you first gain his permission.”

She gave a quick nod. “Can we come and visit at your house? Ewan says it’s quite beautiful.”

A look of defeat shone in Ewan’s eyes as he stepped forward and gently tapped his sister’s shoulder. “I’m wondering if you’re having a problem with your ears, Adaira. Did you hear what I said only a minute ago? You’re behaving like you’ve never been taught any manners.”

“No need to chastise her on my account, Ewan. I’d be delighted to have the girls come visit as often as they’d like. If I’m at the orphanage or helping at the brickyard, I know Mother will enjoy their company.”

“You work at the brickyard? What do you do? I know you’re not strong enough to truck off.” Adaira narrowed her eyes. “One time Ewan let me try to push a barrow of molded bricks from the machine to the dumpers, but it was too heavy and he had to help.” She twisted the end of her braid and appeared to be deep in thought. “You don’t edge or hack the bricks, do you?”

Laura was impressed by the girl’s knowledge. She’d either spent her share of time at a brickyard or listened when her brother discussed his work. Perhaps women helped in the brickyards in Ireland. Laura had never asked Ewan, though she couldn’t imagine a woman working alongside the men. “No. I help your brother with some of the office work, keeping the books and timekeeping—that sort of thing. My father never permitted children or women to work in the yard when we owned
it, but a few of the children did bring lunch to their brothers and fathers who worked for us.”

“After I begged and begged, Ewan took me to see the brickyard that he supervised back home. That’s how I learned so much.”

“That and asking lots of questions,” Ewan added.

The girl’s inquisitive nature reminded Laura of her own childhood behavior. During her youth, she’d been curious about everything, too. Her father had once accused Laura of having a secret machine that helped her dream up the many questions she posed each day. Young Adaira’s questions might prove to be an even greater challenge, especially for Ewan.

“I want to know about the orphanage. What do you do there?” Ainslee stepped alongside Laura.

The girl’s eyes shown with interest as Laura explained her volunteer work. “Perhaps you could come with me sometime and help with the little children. They love to play outdoors, but it takes many eyes to watch over them.”

“Oh, I want to come, too,” Adaira said, her lower lip protruding in a slight pout.

Ewan tapped Adaira on the shoulder. “We don’t need to begin pouting about who is going to be doing what. For right now, you both need to get settled. If Miss Woodfield has time to take you to the orphanage sometime in the future, there will be time enough to discuss who goes with her.”

“I thought Aunt Margaret and Kathleen might come to meet us.” Rose turned away from the baggage car long enough to glance at her brother.

“I told them it was not necessary. Besides, it would have taken me longer to fetch them since I came here from the brickyard.”

“If you were at the brickyard, how come you’re not dirty?” This time it was Ainslee who posed the question.

Ewan chuckled. “Because I was working in the office.”

“With Miss Woodfield?” Adaira’s lips curved in a teasing grin.

Rose gestured to one of the wooden baggage carts. “I see our trunks. I worried they might not make it onto the train. We had very little time when we changed trains in Wheeling.” She sighed. “I’m surely happy we’ve come to the end of our journey.

“The other relatives are eager to leave Ireland. Uncle Darach said their ship would sail two weeks after ours, so it won’t be too long before they arrive. The whole lot of them are worried about where they’ll be living. Aunt Margaret wrote Aunt Elspeth and said Uncle Hugh would try to locate enough housing for all of them but they might have to share living quarters for a time. Is that right? Will we be living with Aunt Elspeth and Uncle Darach once they arrive?”

Ewan grasped Rose by the hand. “Nay, of course not. You’ll be staying with me at Uncle Hugh’s house.”

Ainslee wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather stay with Aunt Elspeth. She’s much nicer. You know Aunt Margaret doesn’t like having us around. She thinks we’re a bother.” The girl ignored her brother’s warning look. “Kathleen wrote and said Aunt Margaret wants her to marry you.”

“What?” Ewan ducked his head when several people turned around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout, but it seems Adaira isn’t the only one who has forgotten her manners.”

Ainslee frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “You should be angry with Kathleen instead of me. I’m only repeating what she wrote in her letter. I told Rose I didn’t believe a word of it. Didn’t I, Rose?” Ainslee nudged her older sister.

“Aye, she did. Truth is, none of us thought you’d consider taking Kathleen as a wife.” Rose winked at her brother. “We
know the two of you would be a terrible match, but I don’t think Kathleen would ever defy her sister. I think she’s afraid of Aunt Margaret’s temper.”

Ewan raked his fingers through his thick brown hair and gave a shrug. “If these three continue jabbering, you’re going to hear all of the family secrets before we ever get out of the train station.”

On the ride home, the girls peppered Ewan and Laura with a multitude of questions. Laura didn’t mind their inquiries, but Ewan grew increasingly tense.

Laura touched the sleeve of Ewan’s jacket as they neared the turnoff to the house. “Perhaps you should take me home first. I’m sure your family would like some time to get reacquainted in private. Besides, I promised Mother I’d write out invitations for a tea she is hosting in a few weeks.”

The twins objected to Laura’s departure, but she held fast to her decision. Hearing Margaret Crothers was devising plans for Ewan to wed Kathleen had sealed her decision. Laura had been around Margaret enough to know that an unwanted guest on her doorstep could bring out the worst in the woman, and Laura didn’t intend to be that unwanted visitor.

The girls begged to come inside when they arrived at Woodfield Manor, but Ewan refused. “We have to get home. I don’t want Aunt Margaret to send Uncle Hugh looking for us.”

“You’re all three welcome to come over tomorrow afternoon, but only if you have your brother’s permission. There’s a shortcut through the woods he can show you.” She smiled at the girls. “I’m delighted to meet each of you and pleased you’re going to make your home in West Virginia. I hope we’ll become good friends.”

As the girls’ chattering voices followed Laura up the front steps of the house, a repressed longing for family washed over
her like a giant wave that threatened to drown her. Her heart ached for what she could never have.

Once inside, she leaned against the cool wood of the front door and forced herself to inhale slow, steady breaths. This feeling would pass—it always did. It had to.