The Brickmaker's Bride (24 page)

“Looking for something special?” His gaze fell on the lace. “That appears to be lace edging for a wedding gown.” His lips curved in a knowing smile. “Have you begun making your wedding gown without including me in your plans?”

His remark was so startling that she was momentarily rendered speechless. She’d been clear about her intentions the other night. Although Winston had attempted to divert their conversation away from problems at the brickyard, she’d been clear that she wanted the bank to give Ewan additional time to meet the financial obligation. When they parted, she’d been even more explicit, so now to hear him speak of marriage and act as though she were shopping for wedding gown fabric only served to annoy her further. Surely he realized his inapt remarks wouldn’t sit well with her.

Laura rested her hand on a bolt of fabric. “You must have misunderstood our conversation before we parted the other night, though I believe I was very explicit. Our beliefs are far
too disparate for me to ever consider a future with you. I could never marry you.”

His lips curled in a sneer. “And do you believe you’ll find a husband willing to accept you with your little
problem
? I doubt Ewan McKay will want to marry a woman who can’t bear him an heir.”

Laura gasped at his cruel words. “I’m shocked you would speak to any woman in such a vile manner.” She took a backward step and inhaled a deep breath as she attempted to digest the pain Winston had so willingly inflicted. “Ewan McKay has nothing to do with my opinion about you and your behavior, but if it eases your mind, please know that I would never marry a man without being honest.”

The anger in his eyes seared her. “You’re determined to make a fool of me, but in the end, we shall see who is truly the fool.”

Winston’s words sizzled with bitterness as he turned on his heel and stormed down the aisle of dry goods and out the front door. His heated response pulsed in her ears, and she leaned against the display counter to gain her bearings. She could only imagine how he would have acted if he’d known she’d enlisted her mother to help Ewan secure financial aid to make the bank payment.

Convincing her mother to help had required a great deal of finesse. While her mother didn’t want to see the brickyard fail, she wasn’t thrilled to lend help to Hugh or Margaret Crothers, both of whom had proved to be untrustworthy. However, Laura’s gentle persuasion and a mention of Christian duty had convinced her mother that the many employees, as well as Ewan and his three sisters, would suffer dearly if the brickyard failed. Laura’s mother had finally agreed that her distaste for Hugh and Margaret Crothers and their unseemly behavior should not color her decision.

Once she agreed to lend her help, Mrs. Woodfield had done everything in her power to maintain secrecy in the negotiations. Still, Laura and her mother both understood how businessmen tended to talk about business ventures—even when they’d agreed to keep matters private—and Laura feared word might leak out at any time. Her mother remained certain their plan would remain a secret, but her mother’s confidence hadn’t eased Laura’s concerns. However, the fact that Winston hadn’t seemed to know gave her hope that her mother was correct.

A short time later, Laura turned and caught sight of Kathleen as she entered the store. After taking a slow breath, Laura forced a broad smile. She didn’t want Kathleen to know this trip into town had resulted in a confrontation with Winston.

As Kathleen drew closer, Laura noted the girl’s splotchy complexion. She’d obviously been crying. Laura reached forward and grasped her hand. “Do you need to sit down?” The girl appeared as though she might faint at any moment. Laura glanced about, hoping to locate a chair.

“Nay. Please, I want to leave.” When Laura didn’t immediately move toward the door, Kathleen tugged on her hand. “I don’t want to stay here.”

Laura placed her arm around Kathleen’s waist and escorted her to the buggy. Once she was ensconced inside and they’d traveled beyond the outskirts of town, Kathleen began to cry, and soon her soft weeping intensified until her entire body was heaving with uncontrollable sobs.

Unable to console the girl while driving the buggy, Laura pulled to the side of the road, then drew Kathleen into an embrace. “Tell me what happened. I can’t help you unless I know what you and Terrance decided. You did speak to him, didn’t you?”

She sniffled and gave a slight nod. “He doesn’t want to marry me.” Her voice hitched and her tears once again flowed.

Laura was sure Kathleen had misunderstood. Surely Terrance hadn’t understood the depth of Kathleen’s dilemma—of their dilemma. “Did you tell him about the baby?”

She nodded. “He said he’s going to marry Jenny O’Malley. They were seeing each other before he ever met me. He says it’s her that he loves, not me.” Her voice was laced with tears as she continued the tale. “When I told him about the baby, he said he doubted it was his, and that a girl that was as easily bedded as me had surely been sleeping with every man she ever met.” Her wails cut through the scorching heat.

Laura snapped open her fan and waved it back and forth in front of Kathleen’s face. “What a despicable thing for him to say! What kind of man is he that he’d treat you in such a manner?” Laura placed an arm around Kathleen’s shoulder.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone until I have a chance to talk to Margaret and Hugh. I don’t want them to find out from someone else.”

Laura patted her hand. “You have my word, but you must try to calm yourself. Please know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

T
he afternoon sun beat down across the brickyard and blended with the thick humidity to produce torturous weather that continued to take its toll on the men. Though the workers attested to the fact that the weather was odd for September, they’d affirmed they’d experienced hot Septembers in the past. They’d also mentioned those hot Septembers had been followed by early winters, a fact Ewan wasn’t pleased to hear. He wanted as much time as possible to produce the necessary bricks to fulfill all pending contracts.

Ewan strode down the hillside to check on the progress of the afternoon shift, a task he’d taken on since they’d begun the nearly nonstop operation at the yard. The men who worked the early shift arrived while darkness shrouded the hillsides, and the men who worked the late shift arrived when the sun was beginning its descent. They were the fortunate ones. The men working during the heat of the day suffered the most. Ewan disliked requiring them to work in these conditions, but if they didn’t make up for the two kilns of ruined bricks, the company wouldn’t survive. There was no time for resting in the shade during the heat of the day.

He continued to work at a frenzied pace, all the time realizing his efforts would be in vain if they couldn’t meet the deadline for the bank note. On the other hand, his uncle had adopted a somewhat complacent attitude that Ewan failed to understand. The money invested in the brickyard—the money that would be lost if they didn’t meet their financial obligation—had belonged to his uncle.

Ewan had gone only a short distance when the pounding of horse hooves caused him to turn. From atop his horse, his uncle gestured. “Get on up here, Ewan. I need to have a word with you.”

With a sigh, Ewan trudged back up the hillside to the office, where his uncle stood tying his horse. His uncle had remained away from the brickyard for days, but the moment he appeared, he expected everyone to do his bidding—Ewan included.

Ewan was still a short distance from his uncle when he gestured toward the yard. “I need to go down and check on progress. Have you managed to secure the money we need to make the bank payment?”

“That’s why I’ve come to talk to you, so get yourself up here, where I don’t have to strain me voice.”

Though he knew his uncle had overextended his assets with the construction of a new home and the purchase of expensive furnishings, Ewan wasn’t certain he had depleted all of his funds. The man tended to hide his true state of financial affairs, so Ewan held out hope his uncle possessed at least enough money to stave off the bank’s promise of seizure.

His uncle pushed his hat back a few inches, withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “Not enough to meet the full payment, but I’m still working on it.”

While Ewan and the men at the brickyard continued to labor,
Ewan relied upon prayer to keep himself from dwelling on the possible loss of their business. His uncle usually came up with money, albeit not always in a legal manner. Even though the man had indicated he didn’t have money to make the full bank payment, Ewan wasn’t sure he’d been told the truth. He hoped his uncle continued to exaggerate his lack of funds in order to curtail Aunt Margaret’s spending.

“Exactly how are you working on it, Uncle Hugh? Are you meeting with some businessmen who might offer a short-term loan? If so, you can tell them we’re working overtime to meet our orders and they can expect repayment as soon a—”

“Hold your britches, boy. Since when am I needing your advice on how to conduct business?” Hugh tugged on the end of his mustache and pinned Ewan with a look of disdain.

Ewan’s weariness and his uncle’s sharp words joined together, and Ewan said forcefully, “You needed my advice a long time ago, but you were too proud to take it. If you would have listened to me before you signed that contract giving us so little time to make our payments, we wouldn’t be in this position. And you shouldn’t have hired Rudy Banks, either. It’s your doing that’s landed us in this kettle of fish, so you shouldn’t be acting so high and mighty when I ask about the bank loan.” He waved toward the brickyard. “The men are working in the heat of the day to try to make a go of this, so I hope you’ve been doing as much to help with the problem.”

He’d seen little of his uncle since the calamity at the brickyard, but they lived in separate houses now, so there was no telling whether Uncle Hugh had been lazing about or if he’d actually been attempting to secure the necessary funds. But Ewan wanted to know. Mrs. Woodfield had sent word she wanted to meet this afternoon—likely to know what was happening with the brickyard. No doubt she worried her late husband’s business would
once again lay idle. And though the closure might cause her a certain degree of distress, it would cost Ewan a great deal more.

“I’ve used all my resources and managed to come up with only a little less than half of what we need. Folks around here don’t part with their money as easily as those living around the large cities. I’m having a hard time locating anyone willing to join me at the gaming tables.”

Ewan sighed. He had hoped his uncle would seek help from legitimate businessmen, but it seemed Uncle Hugh wasn’t going to give up his old habits easily. “I had hoped you’d seek help through another bank or speak to some of the businessmen you’ve met since we’ve arrived.”

“Aye, and if you think I would have had a bit of luck with those ideas, you’re daft in the head. There’s no one in this town who’s going to loan me money, and you can be sure all those businessmen you’re talking about are friends of Winston Hawkins and his banker friends.” His uncle’s eyes glazed with anger. “There’s about as much chance of that happening as there is of the Lord answering all them prayers of yours.”

“The Lord answers all of our prayers, Uncle Hugh—maybe not the way we’d like, but He always answers. Trouble is, you want to take credit for the good things that happen in your life and blame others, God included, for the bad that happens. I don’t know when you strayed so far from the beliefs you learned years ago, but you need to turn back and put God first in your life.”

“I don’t want to be listening to your preachin’ any more than I want to hear Margaret nagging me for money.” His uncle shifted around and pointed toward the yard. “You got enough bricks down there that if I found a buyer, we could go ahead and sell them outright?”

Ewan stared at his uncle in disbelief. “Those bricks, along with
the ones we’re continuing to make, are promised under the contract made with Mr. Bruce. We can’t sell them to someone else.”

Hugh hiked a shoulder. “If we don’t sell what bricks we’ve got ready, we won’t have enough money to pay the bank. You can tell Mr. Bruce we’ll get his shipment upriver as soon as we can, but he shouldn’t expect it for at least a month.”

“They’re waiting on those bricks to complete their apartment buildings, Uncle Hugh. We can’t sell the bricks to someone else.”

“Mr. Bruce won’t pay until he has the full amount called for in the contract, am I right?”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean we can sell bricks we’ve made for them to another buyer just because we don’t have their full shipment ready. We’ll put their project so far behind they won’t be able to complete their buildings before winter sets in.”

“Maybe I should talk to Mr. Bruce and tell him his options.” Uncle Hugh pulled his pipe from his jacket pocket. “Maybe then he’d pay us enough to meet the bank loan.”

Ewan shook his head. “Even if he agreed, we’d never get another contract from him. Who wants to do business with a company that would do what you’ve suggested? Besides, word would quickly spread among all the other builders in Pittsburgh and Allegheny City, and we’d never again be offered large contracts. Without those large contracts—”

“That’s enough! I do not want to hear any more of your blathering.” His uncle swatted the air. “I know what you think, but you’ve not come up with any way to solve the problem, so don’t be condemning me for trying to find a way to fix it.”

“What you’re suggesting is not a solution. It’s only going to make the problem worse. Don’t do anything until we talk tonight.” When his uncle turned to study the bricks stacked in the yard, Ewan grasped his arm. “Please! Don’t offer those bricks for sale to anyone else until after we talk this evening.”

His uncle’s lips dipped in a frown. “I’ll wait until tonight, but unless you can think of something better, I’ll be trying to sell what bricks we’ve got on hand whether you like it or not. ’Tis better than having the bank seize the entire yard.”

By the time his uncle had ridden off, Ewan was certain there would be no good solution to their dilemma. Not unless Mrs. Woodfield came to their aid. She’d requested he pay a visit this afternoon, but there had been no indication of assistance in her message. Merely a brief note saying it was important she speak with him.

He’d been praying their meeting would somehow offer a solution to the dilemma, yet why should Mrs. Woodfield help them? Uncle Hugh and Aunt Margaret had done nothing to endear themselves to the woman, and the success or failure of the brickyard would not affect her.

Still, as he rode to Woodfield Manor a short time later, he continued to hope and pray that Mrs. Woodfield would offer some form of assistance or advice. Zeke hurried to take the reins of his horse when he dismounted. Preoccupied by thoughts of his uncle’s earlier visit to the yard, Ewan didn’t notice Laura sitting on the front porch until he neared the door.

“Good afternoon, Ewan.” She smiled, and desire swelled in him and melted his resolve to resist her.

He had no right to feel this way about a woman being courted by another man, but her beauty and compassion were intoxicating. She possessed all of the attributes any man would desire in a woman—in a wife.

“Good afternoon.” The words stuck in his mouth like thick molasses. “I’m supposed to meet with your mother.”

She closed her fan and attached it to a silver chatelaine clipped at her waist. “I know. I’m going to join you for the meeting.” Her smile broadened. “I hope you won’t mind.”

He shook his head in answer but hoped the motion would clear his mind, as well. “No, not at all.” He followed her inside and down the hallway to the library, where her mother sat visiting with a man whom Ewan had never met.

Mrs. Woodfield greeted him with a pleasant smile. “Good afternoon, Ewan. I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Herman Lofton.” She waved toward Ewan. “This is Ewan McKay, the young man I’ve been telling you about, Herman.”

Mr. Lofton stood and extended his hand. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. McKay.”

Ewan reached forward to shake Mr. Lofton’s hand. “Please call me Ewan.”

“Good enough. And you may call me Herman, if you’d like.”

The older man returned to his chair, and Laura stepped across the room and took a seat beside her mother. “Do sit down, Ewan. I believe Mother was going to have Catherine serve some lemonade. Would you like a glass?”

While Ewan appreciated the pleasantries and knew it would be rude to decline refreshments, he would have preferred to know why he’d been summoned to this meeting. Even more, he was curious to learn about Herman Lofton and why he was there.

“A glass of lemonade would be most refreshing, thank you.” Ewan sat on the edge of his chair, his arms resting across his thighs, his shoulders hunched forward.

“You look as though you’re preparing to take flight, Ewan. Do relax. I don’t have plans to do you harm.” Mrs. Woodfield chuckled and glanced at Mr. Lofton before returning her attention to Ewan. “There’s no reason to be on edge. We’re hoping to arrive at a solution to help you save the brickyard from being seized by the bank.”

Ewan wasn’t certain what to think, but he wanted to believe this was an answer to his prayers. Using his index finger, he
waved an imaginary line from Laura to her mother, and then to Mr. Lofton. “The three of you want to help me?”

They bobbed their heads in unison. “Is that so difficult to believe?” Mrs. Woodfield asked.

“After the way my aunt and uncle have behaved, I can only believe you are an answer to my fervent prayers. Otherwise you wouldn’t attempt to help us.”

“Helping wasn’t my idea, Ewan. Laura convinced me that I had a Christian duty to lend a hand—and she was correct. While I’m not particularly fond of your aunt and uncle, I know you to be a commendable young man who should not bear the burden of an uncle who makes poor decisions. Besides, far too many people will be affected if the brickyard closes, so I don’t think I can let that happen.” She straightened her shoulders. “That’s why I called upon my friend Herman. I needed the advice of someone who hadn’t been associated with any of the previous dealings regarding the brickyard. I needed someone who could give me unbiased advice, so Herman is the person I called upon to help me—and you.”

Ewan leaned forward. “I’m eager to hear what measures the two of you have planned.”

Mr. Lofton chuckled. “I’d hardly say we’ve made any arrangements, Ewan. Much will depend upon you and, unfortunately, your uncle, since he is the owner of the brickyard. We wanted to discuss this first with you and, if you are in agreement, we suggest you have your uncle return with you for supper this evening.”

Ewan listened as they laid out their idea. Though he would have agreed to most anything they suggested that would save the brickyard, he thought the plan fair and workable. For sure, it was better than anything he or his uncle could devise within the next few days. But whether Uncle Hugh would agree was entirely another matter.