The Brickmaker's Bride (6 page)

Laura exhaled a relieved sigh, thankful that Winston had been honest and thorough in his dealings with Mr. Crothers.

“Whose side are you on, Ewan? You take up her cause at every turn.” Mrs. Crothers’s face contorted with rage. “First you convince your uncle Hugh to pay full price for this place, and now you say that their contract was honest.” She pointed the tip of her parasol at Laura. “Did that one pay your passage to America? Is she going to be your partner at the brickworks? You’d best be remembering who butters your bread.”

“I am only stating the truth, Aunt Maggie. You can go to the lawyer, but it won’t change a thing. And neither will your anger. This isn’t the fault of Miss Woodfield or her mother. And, yes, I did encourage Uncle Hugh to pay full price and to settle here, but you said you loved this valley and wanted to make it your home, as well.”

“Aye, that’s true enough, but that’s when I thought I’d be living in this fine house.” Maggie thumped her parasol on the Wilton carpet.

“Stop with your thumping and shouting, Margaret. Ewan’s right. The lawyer asked if I wanted to ride around the property so I could see exactly where the boundaries were located. I should have taken the time. Then I would have known this land wasn’t included. But I didn’t, and that cannot be changed.” He narrowed his eyes and turned toward Laura. “But I can tell ya that I would not have paid full price had I known I was not getting this house. There are not many times I’ve gambled and lost, but this is one of them. Your lawyer has taught me a lesson, miss.”

Laura squared her shoulders and met Mr. Crothers’s steely gaze. “The purchase of this brickyard and the surrounding property was not a gamble, Mr. Crothers. If you operate the brickyard with the same diligence as did my father, you’ll earn an excellent profit.”

“Laura, I didn’t know we had guests! You should have sent Catherine to fetch me.” Mrs. Woodfield continued down the stairs and entered the parlor. She looked at her daughter and arched her brows. “You haven’t served tea? What’s come over you? Our guests will think we have no manners.” Her mother smiled at the two women seated on the divan. “I am Frances Woodfield. We’re pleased that we will have neighbors living close by. When you build your new home, I hope you’ll choose a location that is within walking distance.”

Mrs. Crothers stood and gestured for her sister to do the same. “I doubt we’ll be visiting much. I do not think we’re cut from the same cloth.”

Mrs. Woodfield frowned. “I don’t judge others by their social standing, Mrs. Crothers. I think friendships should be based upon trust and respect.”

Margaret’s lips curled in a wry smile. “So do I, but I have found nothing to trust or respect under this roof.” That said,
Margaret marched out of the room, with Kathleen following close on her heels.

“I apologize. Me wife has a bit of a sharp tongue.” Hugh grasped Ewan by the arm. “Come along. We’ve some tall talking to do if we’re going to smooth Maggie’s ruffled feathers.” The older man glanced over his shoulder as they departed. “It may take a while, but once she gets used to the idea that she doesn’t own this place, Maggie will come ’round. When she does, she’ll pay you more visits than you want.”

Laura sighed and dropped to the overstuffed chair, uncertain she would ever want Maggie Crothers to “come ’round.”

E
wan followed his uncle and the women to the carriage, thankful he’d ridden his horse. Maggie was insisting upon a visit to Winston Hawkins, a meeting Ewan didn’t care to attend. Such a discussion would be a waste of time, but he realized Aunt Margaret wouldn’t be satisfied until she heard those words from the lawyer.

He grasped his uncle’s elbow. “I think it might be good for me to remain behind. I can go and see the house. That way, if it needs some repairs, we can make plans to have them completed as soon as possible. It might help if I can tell the ladies the house is in good order.”

His uncle patted the gray gelding. “Aye, but you come to me after you see the place. If it’s in bad shape, I don’t want Maggie hearing it. I can extend our stay at the hotel if it needs fixing. I’ll tell Maggie and Kathleen that you’re riding down to the brickyard to look things over before you return.”

“I’ll head there right now. I wouldn’t want you telling a lie on my account.”

Hugh chuckled. “Always worried about telling a lie. Never seen the like. Take a look at the brickyard and then come
back here and see if one of the ladies will give you a key to the house.” His uncle lowered his head. “While you’re riding down to the brickyard, you might ask the Almighty if He could strike your aunt dumb for a while. I could use some peace and quiet.”

“I’ll say a prayer that she’ll be quiet on the ride back to town, Uncle Hugh, but I’m not sure it will help.”

Hugh hiked a shoulder. “Aye, right ya are, my boy. Even the Almighty would have a time of it trying to silence Margaret.” He patted Ewan on the back. “Go on with ya. We’ll talk later.”

Ewan shoved his boot into the stirrup and mounted his horse. As he headed off toward the brickyard, he could hear his aunt scolding Uncle Hugh. Little wonder the man had requested prayer. Urging the horse forward, Ewan settled into the saddle, glad for this opportunity to spend a bit of time on his own at the brickyard. Though he and his uncle had carefully examined the machinery and clay deposits during their earlier visit, this time alone would give him an opportunity to follow the workings from the clay deposits to the kiln. Though most brickyards were set up in a similar fashion, the layout could vary depending on the terrain.

He nudged the horse’s flanks with his heels and urged him up a slope toward the clay deposits. What a beautiful place this was. Tree branches heavy with leaves of red and gold emblazoned the hillside while birds filled the air with their songs.

Ewan inhaled the crisp, fresh air as he dismounted. “Thank you, Lord. I am grateful you led us to this place.” Leaning down, he reached his hand into the soil. “It is good to know I will soon be back to work.”

He stood and surveyed the area. Mr. Woodfield had chosen a perfect site. The clay pits were to the rear of the yard. He’d been careful to leave plenty of space for the huge mounds of
clay that needed to weather each winter. Ewan would need to find diggers as soon as possible. Men who knew how to handle a shovel. He wanted to dig before the first freeze so the clay would have exposure to as many freeze-and-thaw cycles as possible. Bricks made of thoroughly weathered clay made stronger bricks and were less liable to warp in the kiln. Ewan wanted to produce sound bricks.

Come spring, he wanted the clay weathered and ready for the pug mills. He walked off in the distance to the two horse-driven mills. Here, the clay would be ground and mixed with liquid to form a malleable mixture before delivery to the VerValen machine, where it would be formed into bricks. Then they would be set to drying in the shed before they could be fired.

They would need more drying sheds as they increased production, but there was still enough time to consider those plans. Late afternoon shadows draped the yard, and Ewan turned toward the hillside. If he didn’t get back to Woodfield Manor soon, the ladies would be preparing for supper.

Riding toward the house a short time later, he spied Miss Woodfield on the porch. He removed his hat and waved in her direction. She stood and drew near the railing.

“We meet again, Miss Woodfield. I hope you do not mind, but I told my uncle I would take a look at the house he purchased. Is there any chance I could bother you for the key and directions to the place?”

Laura’s lips curved in a generous smile. “Certainly. I’ll go with you, if you’d like.”

“I cannot think of a thing that would please me more, Miss Woodfield. Will you be riding a horse?”

“It’s not far. If you don’t mind walking, I’ll get the key and my bonnet.”

“A walk sounds good.” Ewan swung down from the horse and tied the gelding to the post. “You behave yourself while I’m gone.”

“Do you often talk to your horse, Mr. McKay?” Laura asked, coming from the house.

Ewan laughed. “Indeed. He listens and does not give any unwanted opinions.”

Laura tied the strings of her bonnet. “Then I must remember to listen and give my opinion only when requested.”

“Your ideas would always be treasured by me, Miss Woodfield.”

“Is that a bit of the Irish blarney I’ve heard about, Mr. McKay?”

“Not at all. I’m speaking the truth. I value your opinion.” He smiled and then gestured toward the dirt pathway. “The first time I came along this path, I wondered why your father had not lined it with bricks. My poor horse nearly lost a shoe in the thick mud.”

“That’s a good question, Mr. McKay, but I don’t have the answer. Perhaps he didn’t think it important, since the main road isn’t much better. I’m afraid the trail leading to the house where you’ll be living needs a bit of work, as well.”

They’d walked about a half a mile when Laura pointed to a narrow trail leading off to the right. “This leads to the house. Mother is having the groomsman bring her over so she can go through it with us.” She glanced up at him. “Mother wasn’t happy I’d consented to an unescorted walk, but since I’d already told you I would go, she didn’t fuss overmuch.”

Ewan stopped short. “She could have walked with us. Did you not invite her?”

“She can’t walk long distances. Her legs give out. And she didn’t want to keep us waiting while Zeke hitched the carriage for her. No doubt she’ll rush Zeke and be here soon.”

“Is that the house up there in the distance?” Ewan gestured toward a hillock.

“Yes. It’s a lovely setting. You can see most of the valley. The trees hide the brickyard from view, but you can see the river from two of the upstairs bedrooms.” Laura turned at the sound of an approaching horse. “It appears Mother is going to get to the house before we do. That will please her. She would be completely disappointed in me if we entered the house unchaperoned.”

“Aye.” Ewan grinned and nodded. “I would not want to be the one causing your mother grief—or you, either.”

They stepped to the side as the buggy approached, and Mrs. Woodfield called to the driver to stop. Leaning forward, she extended her hand to Laura. “Give me the key and I’ll open the house. I’m sure it needs to be aired.”

Ewan didn’t care if the house was aired; he merely wanted to see the size and condition of the dwelling. If he could offer his aunt a good report, she might stop criticizing Uncle Hugh. Ewan needed his uncle’s attention to remain centered on the brickyard, not on building a new house.

Once they arrived outside the structure, Ewan stopped and surveyed the exterior of the house. “’Tis a fine dwelling. I can only hope that Aunt Maggie will agree and be satisfied until a new house that meets her every wish can be constructed.”

Laura strode toward the steps leading to a generous front porch. “I think I may have detected a hint of disdain in your comment, Mr. McKay.”

Ewan bowed his head. “Aye, and I do apologize for harboring and speaking unkind comments about my aunt. ’Twas not proper.”

“No apology needed. Your aunt made an unforgettable impression.” Laura waved him forward. “My mother and I both
hope to forge a friendship with her, since your family will be living nearby.”

Ewan mounted the steps. “I’m sure she’ll be eager to visit, to ask your advice about the best places to shop, and to inquire about the guests she should entertain. My aunt has a strong desire to be welcomed into fashionable society.”

Laura stopped outside the front door. “We will be pleased to help her. And if your aunt and her sister enjoy volunteer work, there are always positions to be filled.”

“I know you helped your father at the brickyard, but is volunteer work how most society ladies fill their days, Miss Woodfield?”

“We all try to do our part. I’m thankful for the life my parents were able to provide me, so I want to help others who have been less fortunate. I think most of the ladies want to do what they can to ease the suffering of others.”

“So what is it you do to help the needy, Miss Woodfield?”

“Since I enjoy children, I volunteer my time at the orphanage.”

Ewan’s lips lifted in a broad smile. “We have more in common than bricks, Miss Woodfield. To be sure, I think children are a blessing from God. I cannot imagine a life without children of my own, can you?”

His question hung in the air as Laura silently motioned him inside.

The area was large enough to greet several guests, though not nearly as large as the grand hallway at Woodfield Manor. A wide staircase boasting a hand-carved black-walnut banister rose from the left wall and a wide entrance led to the formal parlor to the right. Mrs. Woodfield had already opened the pocket doors, and Zeke was struggling to open some of the windows.

“Let me help with those. With all the rain, the wood has probably swelled a bit.” Ewan crossed the room and soon had
two of the windows open at the front of the house. Once Zeke had managed to raise a window along the side, a cross breeze soon drifted through the room.

Mrs. Woodfield inhaled a shallow breath. “That’s a little better, but it will be several hours before we’re rid of the stale air.” She waved toward Zeke. “Open the rest of these downstairs windows and then go up to the bedrooms.” Her forehead creased in a frown. “Maybe Zeke should spend the night here. He could leave the windows open, and it would be as fresh as a daisy by morning.”

“Now, Mrs. Woodfield, you know I don’t like sleeping anywhere but in my own bed.” The older man shuddered. “Maybe you should send Joseph. That young fella is always open to a bit of adventure. But me? I like my regular routine.”

“Then we’ll have Joseph come over.” Mrs. Woodfield turned to Ewan. “Would you like to begin upstairs or continue here on the main floor, Mr. McKay?”

“Down here is fine. I was wondering about the workhorses your husband used to operate the pug mills. Is there any chance you still have the animals?”

“Zeke, do we still have those horses Mr. Woodfield used down at the brickyard?”

Zeke jerked and hit his head on the window frame. “Sure do.” He rubbed his head. “Them are some mighty fine horses, Mr. McKay. Percherons. That’s the only kind Mr. Woodfield ever used in the yard. He said that breed was hard workers. And they is. Charlie’s good-natured all the time. Jack can sometimes be stubborn, but once you convince him who’s boss, he’ll give you a better day’s work than any other horse you harness up to turn a pug mill.”

“I was wondering if the horses were included in the sale, Mrs. Woodfield. I did not read the contract.”

“Truly?” She arched her brows. “In the future, you may find it isn’t wise to settle upon a contract without full knowledge, Mr. McKay.”

“Aye, that’s wise counsel, Mrs. Woodfield, but since my uncle was the one signing the agreement and paying the money, he did not believe there was any need for me to read the contents.”

“But I thought you and your uncle were partners. Did I misunderstand?”

“We will become partners once I’ve earned my share in the company. My uncle expects me to oversee operations at the brickyard.”

“I see.” Her lips curved in a gentle smile. “I think it would be better for you to be the one acquiring contracts for the company, Mr. McKay. Unfortunately, your uncle’s demeanor doesn’t create a sense of trust. My husband always said that trust and dependability were the greatest assets a company could offer its customers. Perhaps your uncle should oversee daily operations, and you should travel to Wheeling and Pittsburgh to meet with building contractors.” She tucked a wisp of her graying hair beneath her shirred russet bonnet. “Think about what I’ve said.”

Ewan nodded. “Aye, that I will, but I do not think my uncle will be so quick to listen.”

“Does he understand the operation of a brickyard, Mr. McKay?” Mrs. Woodfield asked, arching her brows.

“He does, but he’s not keen on the idea of hard work now that he’s got a bit of money in his pockets.”

“Then maybe a visit with me will help. I think I may be able to convince him that my suggestions will benefit him.”

Ewan didn’t want to argue with the woman, but she’d not soon convince Hugh Crothers of any such thing. Uncle Hugh might take a stroll through the yard from time to time, but his plans didn’t include overseeing the digging of clay or the molding
of bricks. That’s the reason he’d brought Ewan along. But if they failed to win contracts because of his uncle’s abrasive behavior, there would be no need to burn bricks.

Mrs. Woodfield continued the tour, leading him from the dining room into a small library and an informal parlor. “Tell your uncle he should pay me a call.” She hesitated for a moment. “Add that I have some helpful information to share with him.” She gestured toward the hallway. “Shall we go upstairs?”

“I am still wondering about those horses, Mrs. Woodfield.”

She chuckled. “Yes, of course.” She strode toward the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. “Zeke, do we have a need for those two workhorses any longer?”

Zeke’s work boots clomped on the floor as he crossed the room. Ewan bent forward, eager to hear the response.

“I don’t reckon we do, Mrs. Woodfield. They’s been doing nothing but grazing and getting lazy since the brickyard shut down. Might take a bit of urging to get ’em back in working form. I told you last winter you should sell the both of ’em.”

“I’m sure you did, but since we still have them, they’ll be of use to Mr. Crothers and Mr. McKay.” She turned and met Ewan’s gaze. “When you tell your uncle I have some information for him, tell him I also have two good Percherons that are trained for the pug mill.”