The Brickmaker's Bride (17 page)

Laura smiled. “I hope she didn’t upbraid him when he turned down her request.”

“Nay, but she did go to Uncle Hugh and ask him to overrule Ewan’s decision.” Rose chuckled and shook her head. “Uncle Hugh said she should be glad Ewan had offered up any of the bricks. So that was the end of it.” Rose touched her fingers to her lips. “I’m just like my sister—telling tales that shouldn’t be repeated.” She gave the swing another push with her toe. “Ewan says when Aunt Margaret and Uncle Hugh move to their new house, we’ll get to remain in the old one. I’m glad we’ll have a place of our own. I’ll be happy to do the cooking and cleaning.”

Laura put her foot on the floor of the porch and brought the swing to an abrupt halt. “I almost forgot. I was going through my wardrobe and discovered some dresses I think will fit you, if you’d like to try them.”

Rose’s eyes sparkled as she jumped up from the swing and strode toward the door. “Oh, I’d love to. Do you think Aunt Margaret will object?”

“Why should she? You’re the only one the dresses will fit. If she’s displeased I gave them to you, she can speak with me. I’ll be happy to set her mind at ease.” Laura grasped the hand-
carved walnut railing as she led Rose up the stairs and down the hallway to her room.

After entering the sitting room that adjoined Laura’s bedroom, Rose pivoted in a full circle. “This is so beautiful.” She rushed across the room and looked out the window. Turning to look at Laura, she said, “If this were my room, I would look out every morning just to see the mountains.”

The girl’s enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m very fortunate to have beautiful views from all of the windows. That’s one of the reasons my father chose this spot to build Woodfield Manor.” Laura opened the wardrobe along the west wall of the sitting room. “I keep my out-of-season dresses and those I no longer wear in these two wardrobes.”

Rose peeked around the corner into the bedroom. “You have three wardrobes in your bedroom.” Astonishment shone in her eyes. “I didn’t know anyone owned enough clothes to fill so many wardrobes. God has blessed you for sure, Laura.”

Laura’s stomach cinched in a knot. “Not so much as you might believe, Rose. Just because I have wardrobes filled with dresses doesn’t mean God has favored me.”

The girl tipped her head to one side. “You live in a beautiful house and want for nothing, and you think God’s love isn’t shining down on you? If you’d been in Ireland with the twins and me, you’d feel different.”

“When important things are missing in your life, material possessions don’t seem significant.”

“’Tis true heartache can be hard to bear, but when your stomach meets your backbone from lack of food or your fingers are so cold they turn black, you forget the ache of grief and long for a bit of food and a stove to warm yourself.” Her eyes shone with a faraway look. “For sure, you think God has deserted you when you’d fight your own sister for a crust of bread.” A
tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped it away and inhaled a deep breath. “I’m sorry to turn melancholy on you. Let’s look at the dresses.”

Laura lifted several day dresses from the wardrobe and placed them across the settee. “I think all of these will fit you.”

Rose stepped across the room and traced her fingers down a raspberry and tan print dress with shell buttons centered down the front of the wide skirt. “This is beautiful. I’ve never owned anything so lovely. I do like this print very much.”

“The raspberry color suits you, and I think this aqua shade will be pretty on you, as well.” Laura held a sleeve of the aqua dress near Rose’s face. “Yes. It’s a lovely color for you.”

Rose stood in front of a large oval mirror and held the dress close to her body. “It might be a little long, but Kathleen is good with a needle. I’m sure she’d help me hem it.”

“How is Kathleen? Except at church, I’ve seen little of her.”

Rose shrugged. “She’s unhappy most of the time. She argues with Aunt Margaret about a fellow she likes very much. Kathleen says he’s quite wonderful, but Aunt Margaret won’t let him call on her. I would never tell on Kathleen, but I’ve seen her sneak out at night. I think she goes to meet him. If Aunt Margaret ever finds out, the sound of doomsday will be ringing in Kathleen’s ears.” Still clasping the dress in front of her, Rose made a small pirouette and beamed as the skirt of the dress swished and then settled and pooled at her feet. “I think what the twins said at the train station remains true: Aunt Margaret would be pleased if Kathleen and Ewan would marry.”

Laura’s breath caught. She had hoped Margaret had set aside such a notion. She couldn’t imagine Kathleen and Ewan as a couple. Even more, she didn’t want to. In truth, she didn’t want to think of him with any woman. Yet what did she expect? Ewan was a handsome man who would one day be part owner of a
profitable business. If he invested his money wisely, he’d likely become one of the most successful men in the county before he was thirty years of age. There were some young ladies who would refuse to be courted by an Irishman, but wealth and good looks had a way of winning affections. Before long, Ewan McKay would have women vying for his attention. Why was Margaret determined he marry her sister? Wouldn’t an alliance with a young lady from a wealthy family be more advantageous? Margaret hadn’t hidden the fact that she hoped to move into the proper social circles. She appeared to be overlooking the easiest route.

“What does your brother think about your Aunt Margaret’s ideas regarding marriage to Kathleen?” Laura held her breath as she waited for Rose’s answer.

“He says he hasn’t decided who he will marry, but Aunt Margaret will not be making such a decision for him.” Rose pressed her palm down the sleeve of a blue velvet basque, decorated with jet beads. “One thing is sure. The lady Ewan marries must love children, for he’s always said he wants a houseful.”

Rose’s words wrapped around Laura like a tight cord and strangled her longing for the future—a future she’d been picturing with Ewan McKay.

L
ong after the girls departed, Rose’s comment plagued Laura. The words raced through her mind like a dog chasing a rabbit. Yet why did hearing Rose tell her that Ewan wanted a houseful of children cut so deep? From time to time, he’d said as much himself. Hadn’t he told her that other than God, family was the most important thing in his life? During the passing months as she worked alongside him at the brickyard, she’d done her best to forget Ewan was a man intent upon having a large family. In truth, he was everything she desired in a husband, and he possessed the kindness and loving spirit to be a wonderful father. He’d certainly exhibited fatherly skills with his three sisters.

Yet the very thing he desired the most, she could never give him. Or any other man, for that matter. The sadness of that knowledge dismayed her much more today than it had when she’d first heard the doctor’s proclamation at thirteen years of age. Back then, she’d been more devastated to hear she couldn’t return to boarding school for the remainder of the year. The life-altering injuries she’d incurred when thrown from her horse
were more significant now than she’d ever imagined during her childhood.

She’d been teetering on the fringes of consciousness when she’d overheard the doctor report the extent of her injuries to her parents. At first, she fought to maintain consciousness for increasing periods of time. Then, learning to walk again became her goal. After that, returning to full health and getting back to boarding school took precedence. Not until discussions of marriage and children became topics of discussion between Laura and her school friends did she begin to realize what impact the doctor’s prognosis would mean for her future.

Her friends had looked at her with such pity and expressions of sorrow that finally the significance of her situation became clear. If she was honest with her suitors, they would judge her a poor marriage prospect. Lucy Martin had burst into tears when Laura explained her condition, and Laura had never forgotten Lucy’s mournful decree: “You’ll never marry, Laura. Every man of wealth and social position expects his wife to bear a son to carry on the family name.” Lucy had wiped her tears and looked deep into Laura’s eyes. “Don’t ever tell any man who courts you. It’s the only way, Laura.”

For a time, Laura considered Lucy’s advice and had spoken to her father about remaining silent on the subject of children when a young man requested permission to call on her. But her father had counseled against the idea. “Better that I have a discussion with any young man who asks to court you, Laura. Be it friendship or courtship, deception is not the way to enter into a relationship.” He’d patted her hand and advised that if God intended her to marry, He would send the right man. And though she knew her father was correct, all of the young men who’d asked to court Laura had withdrawn their requests after a talk with her father.

Until Winston came along. He’d actually been pleased by the news. Laura had been stunned when her mother relayed the details. At first, Laura doubted Winston understood her condition, but on their first outing, he’d been frank with her. He disliked children, had no desire for any, and thought a child would be nothing more than a deterrent to his political aspirations.

She had doubted his truthfulness, but her mother believed him, and eventually so did Laura. He was friendly to children when it could advance him in the eyes of political benefactors or influential businessmen. Otherwise, he either ignored or avoided them all together. But then, he did the same with adults. Those who could further his political ambitions received his full attention; others were snubbed.

She disliked his attitude and behavior, and given her way, she would discontinue their relationship. But her mother wanted a match for Laura—and not just any match. She wanted Laura to marry a man of wealth and influence. Little matter that her own husband had not been such a man when they’d wed; she wanted better for Laura. And marriage to a man who could immediately provide a life of ease could help alleviate her childless state. At least that’s what her mother believed. But Laura knew better. Marriage to a man she didn’t love would only feed the ache in her heart.

After changing into a walking suit, she descended the front stairs and stopped at the parlor door. “I’m going to the brickyard. Ewan asked that I be there for the meeting with Mr. Bruce.”

Her mother glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “I didn’t realize he was coming to Bartlett today. Why didn’t you mention it?”

Laura slipped on her gloves. “He’s coming for a meeting with Ewan, not a social visit. I didn’t think it would be of any great importance.”

“Perhaps not to me, but you know Winston would like the opportunity to visit with Archibald. His influence with folks in Pittsburgh is vast. Invite him to join us for supper this evening, and I’ll have Zeke ride into Bartlett and extend an invitation to Winston. We’ll have a small dinner party. Won’t that be fun?”

“Do you want me to invite Ewan, as well?”

Her mother hesitated. “If you think he’d enjoy dining with us, he’s more than welcome, but I don’t want anything to detract from Winston’s visit with Archibald.”

“I don’t know if Ewan will accept, but I’ll let him know it’s an impromptu dinner party. Shall I send Catherine in so the two of you can plan a menu?”

“Oh yes. Thank you. And tell Zeke to ride into town and speak with Winston after he’s delivered you to the brickyard. Is Archibald staying at the hotel in Bartlett? How is he getting from the train station to the brickyard?”

“I have no idea, Mother. Mr. Bruce likely made the arrangements for his travel and hotel, but I can ask Ewan if Mr. Bruce sent word of his plans.”

“Do let Archibald know that he’s more than welcome to stay with us.” Her frown returned. “Oh, I do wish you had let me know he was arriving so I could have invited him to stay with us. This all makes me feel very uncivil.”

Laura sighed. “As I said, Mother, he’s arriving for a business meeting with Ewan. This was never intended to be a social call. However, I will pass along your messages.”

The cook wasn’t pleased to receive news of the evening dinner party, and when Laura told Zeke he had to go into Bartlett, he didn’t hesitate to tell her he had other work that needed doing this morning. Laura wanted to tell them both that she wasn’t happy with the turn of events, either, but
confiding in the help was inappropriate. A rule she’d been taught long ago.

Ewan turned and stood when she entered the office. “I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten.” He glanced at the clock. “Mr. Bruce is due to arrive in about a half hour.”

“That answers my first question.”

His features creased in a puzzled look. “And what are your other questions?”

“Mother asked if you’d made arrangements for Mr. Bruce to travel from Bartlett to the brickyard or if I should have Zeke wait for him at the train station. She also wanted to know if he’d arranged for a room in town. She’d like him to come for dinner this evening and stay at Woodfield Manor if he hasn’t already reserved a room at the Bartlett Hotel.”

Ewan turned both hands palm side up and shrugged. “He sent a telegram saying he would meet with me at the brickyard office at two o’clock. I do not know any more than that. Was I supposed to offer him a ride from the station and a room for the night?” His question was tinged with a note of alarm that matched the fearful look in his eyes.

She regretted having caused him further anxiety. “No, you weren’t expected to do any of those things. I merely wanted to know if Mr. Bruce had notified you of his plans. There’s no need for concern. I’ll go out and give Zeke instructions and then return.” She hoped her smile offered a bit of reassurance.

When she strode back inside, Ewan was pacing the length of the office. Back and forth. Back and forth. Finally Laura could no longer watch him. She pointed to a chair. “Please sit down. There’s no reason to be anxious. Mr. Bruce wouldn’t be taking
the time to return if he didn’t think you were going to produce a top-notch product.”

“I don’t know how you can be so sure. We have no idea what the other brick companies have presented to him, or at what prices. If he can strike a better bargain with some other company, he has no reason to offer a contract to our brickyard.”

“He’s returning because he liked what you showed him the first time he was here. My guess is that he’d already seen what others had to offer and he was most impressed with the C&M Brickyard.”

Ewan came to a halt near her chair. “Do you really think so, or are you just saying that so I’ll relax?”

Laura laughed and shook her head. “I’m not given to telling lies, Ewan. If I didn’t believe he had great interest in contracting with C&M, I’d tell you.” Her words seemed to calm him enough that he quit pacing. “I almost forgot. Mother asked me to extend a dinner invitation to you, as well. I do hope you’ll accept.”

He hesitated a moment and then gave a nod. “But what if Mr. Bruce has other plans for dinner? Then what will your mother do?”

She chuckled. “Then you’ll get to eat several servings.” For a moment she considered telling him Winston would be there but changed her mind. She’d wait to tell him.

A short time later, Mr. Bruce arrived. He’d accepted Zeke’s offer of a ride as well as her mother’s dinner invitation. However, he’d already registered at the hotel, so he declined the invitation to stay at Woodfield Manor. “I do appreciate your mother’s hospitality. I enjoy her company very much.”

“Then you must visit more often. We don’t see enough of our friends and always enjoy company.”

Mr. Bruce clapped Ewan on the shoulder. “Well, if this young man and I are able to sign a contract, I’m sure you’ll see a bit
more of me. I always like to visit the companies where I do business. Much more personal than letters or telegrams, don’t you think, Mr. McKay?” He turned his focus on Ewan.

“Aye, much better. I want to please our customers, and I want to hear for myself what they have to say. If they are unhappy, better they tell me than spread the word to my competitors, right?”

“Exactly! I knew I liked you, Ewan. We think much the same way.” Mr. Bruce stepped to the window and looked down at the yard. “I see you’re working at full production. I’m eager to see the color you’ve developed and the completed frog.” He rubbed his hands together like a child anticipating a Christmas surprise. “Let’s go down to the yard.”

Ewan didn’t mind the request, but he’d wanted Laura present during any talks with Mr. Bruce, and the yard was no place for a lady, especially one dressed as fine as she. He worried she’d leave and go home to help her mother with arrangements for dinner, so he stopped in the doorway. “You’ll be here when we return?”

“Of course. Now go on and show him what fine bricks you’re making down there.”

Her smile warmed his heart. He strode forward and led Mr. Bruce down to the yard with renewed confidence in his step. “I think you’re going to like the color. We worked to get the right combination of clay and hematite to produce several different shades of red. If you decide to use our company, I’ve carefully recorded the amount of hematite to clay so that we can immediately begin production. Of course, burning can make a huge difference in the color, too, so I’ve been working long hours training the men I hired to work as burners.”

Laura’s father had been thoughtful in his layout of the yard. While allowing space for expansion, he’d also made certain the
supply of clay would be close enough to the pug mill to make the use of one-horse carts economical.

Once the path into the yard widened, Mr. Bruce came alongside Ewan. “So you’re mixing the hematite into the clay while it is being tempered in the pug mill rather than mixing it with the molding sand.”

There was no doubt that Mr. Bruce knew a great deal about the brick-making process. Ewan didn’t know if he was being singled out and put to a test or if Mr. Bruce asked detailed questions at every business he visited. Ewan hoped it was the latter and Mr. Bruce wasn’t feeling doubtful about Ewan’s ability to meet deadlines with an excellent product.

Ewan nodded. “Aye. Too much of the molding sand is rubbed off while the brick is being handled, which can result in loss of hematite and the red coloring you desire. I would never use that method unless a customer insisted.”