The Potter's Lady (19 page)

Ewan shook his head. “That sounds good to you because it’s the area of the pottery that holds your interest, but it isn’t a practical plan. Do you realize how many people would lose their jobs if we created only specialty items? We need to think about them, too.”

“Exactly.” Rylan folded his arms across his chest. “We need to consider the people who have worked in this pottery for years.”

“True, but the two of you need not be so disapproving.” She unfolded the letter and flattened it with her hand. “Mrs. Fisk’s news truly is the answer to our difficulties.” She looked at Ewan. “I have been praying the Lord would send an answer to our problems in the pottery, and then this letter from Mrs. Fisk arrived.”

Rylan blew out a long sigh. “Are you going to tell us what it says?”

“There’s going to be a contest, and we’re going to enter.”

He did his best to let the words seep into his consciousness. A contest. Rose believed all of their problems would be solved by a contest? He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. They were doomed.

R
ose slapped the letter onto her brother’s desk and looked at Ewan. “I hope you aren’t going to be as close minded as he.” The moment Rylan lifted his head, she pinned him with a glare. How could he so quickly decide her plan held no merit? “You could at least listen to the details before deciding against my suggestion. You might even like it.”

“I don’t see how winning a contest will do any more than add a pittance to the bank account. We need a large order for whiteware, one that will show our ability to produce good product in large quantities. That’s what will get us the money we need, isn’t it, Ewan?”

Rylan’s defiant tone set her on edge. He was acting like a little boy who wouldn’t play unless he got to choose the game. And he was looking to her brother to take his side over hers. She’d never before seen him behave with such opposition. Granted, she’d learned he wasn’t a man who embraced modifications to the workplace, but she hadn’t expected so much resistance to a plan that would help them succeed. While Ewan considered Rylan a genuine asset to the business, he could become a liability if he wasn’t willing to accept some additional changes.

Rose nodded toward the letter. “Before you go any further telling me what we need, why don’t I let the two of you read this? Better yet, I’ll read it aloud, and we’ll save a little time. There’s no need for me to read Mrs. Fisk’s pleasantries to you.”

Ewan nodded. “Go ahead and read the important part.”

Rose cleared her throat and held the piece of stationery by two corners.

“The owner of the Franklin Hotels is sponsoring a contest open to potteries within a two-hundred-mile radius of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

“The contest rules are as follows: Each pottery will submit two finished pieces. One piece should be a whiteware plate with a design that portrays the elegance of Franklin Hotels but can be produced at a reasonable price. The second piece should be a large urn of unique design and decoration, to be displayed in the lobby of our oldest and largest hotel in Pittsburgh. Both designs must be of the highest quality and from the same pottery, and the designs shall be cohesive in nature.

“One pottery will be chosen as the winner. A prize of one hundred dollars will be awarded for the urn, and a contract to replace all whiteware in our hotels with the new design will be awarded to the winning pottery.”

Rylan appeared dumbstruck, but Ewan reached across the desk. “Let me read that for myself. It’s too good to be true.”

“Mrs. Fisk wouldn’t send me this information if it weren’t accurate.” She grinned at her brother. “For sure, we need to begin creating our designs. Mrs. Fisk believes I can win this contest. She says so right here.” Rose pointed to a paragraph near the bottom of the letter.

“Aye, but I think you and Rylan should work on this together. Come up with an idea that will unite both of our projects.” He turned toward Rylan. “You’re the one with experience working with whiteware. You know what will function best, and Rose can create an urn that will be like nothing the judges have ever before seen.” He glanced at his sister. “Is that not a fact?”

“I believe I can create a design that will impress the judges and bring us a victory, but since Rylan doesn’t think the contest is a good idea, I’m not—”

Rylan twisted around to face her. “I will do whatever you and Ewan think is best for the pottery. I think I can provide help with the type of design for the whiteware portion of the contest.”

Rose was taken aback by Ewan’s suggestion that Rylan help her. After all, she was the one who’d graduated from design school and had already won an award for one of her designs while still attending school. She opened her mouth to voice her opinion, but before she could utter a sound, a single word pricked her conscience.
Pride
. Over and over, the word resounded in her ears. Her thoughts and behavior weren’t kind or generous. In spite of his initial protestations, didn’t Rylan deserve a chance to participate?

She inhaled a deep breath. “As long as we each have a measure of involvement in the design produced by the other, I think we can submit winning entries.”

Though she said the words, Rose could only hope she was correct. Rylan disliked every change she’d ever suggested. How could they agree upon designs for the contest? So far the two of them hadn’t discovered any common ground. She prayed that would change while working together. Even though they seldom agreed about the business, she truly liked Rylan and didn’t want to be his adversary throughout the entire process.

Rylan gave a slight nod. “I agree we should both give our opinions about the design created by the other, but I would like to have final say in the whiteware design.” He glanced at Rose. “And you would have final say in your design for the urn.”

Ewan cleared his throat. “That’s a good idea, but the letter says the designs must be cohesive, so neither of you can become stubborn and unwilling to listen to the ideas of the other. Understood?”

“I don’t think that should be a problem for me.” Rylan arched his brows and looked at her. “For all my years in this pottery, I have willingly listened and learned from others.”

Rose bit back the response that rushed to the forefront of her mind. She thought his assertion that he’d “willingly listened and learned” was somewhat contrary to his actual behavior. He’d objected to the school and had also sided with the workers who didn’t believe cleaning their workspaces would generate better health. Although they’d already seen fewer absences from work since her cleanliness rules had been put into practice, and many of the children had begun to excel in their lessons, Rylan had yet to praise either of the changes she’d established. Granted, he’d convinced Robert to finally relent and send his youngest employees to the school, but if they were going to work together, she hoped he would truly listen to her ideas with an open mind.

Rose nodded but looked at her brother rather than Rylan. “I agree. If there is a problem, we’ll first discuss it with each other. If we can’t resolve the disagreement, we’ll come and discuss it with you.”

Ewan smiled. “It is my hope there will be no problem.” He picked up the letter, and his smile disappeared. “This says all entries must be received no later than September twenty-sixth and the award will be presented two days later. That’s only a little more than a month from now. If you’re going to meet the entry date, you’ll need to begin working on your designs. I’m sure you’ll want to create a variety of pieces before you decide upon your final entries.”

How foolish of her. She’d been so excited she hadn’t taken note of the submission date when she read the letter. They couldn’t possibly prepare for the contest within such a short time. Not do that and also keep their other work on schedule. “We’re already behind in the decorating shop. I can’t possibly expect the other decorators to take over my pieces and complete their own. It would be impossible.”

“Then you’re saying McKay Pottery shouldn’t enter the contest?” Ewan pushed the letter across his desk.

Rose shook her head. She wouldn’t be defeated so easily. “No. I’m saying we not only need to create the winning designs, but we also need to figure out a time when we can work on them.”

“I’m free most evenings. I’d be willing to come back after supper and work.” Rylan hesitated. “I believe that would allow us enough time if you think it’s an acceptable idea.”

“Nay.” Ewan frowned. “’Twould not be proper for you and Rose to be alone here at the pottery. I’m thinking the better way would be for you to come home with us after work, eat supper, and the two of you can work on your designs in my office at the house. No need to be at the pottery until you’re ready to make the pieces.”

“I doubt Rylan will want to spend every evening at our house, Ewan. Perhaps the better idea would be for each of us to work independently and then meet and work on any necessary changes.”

Rylan turned toward her. “If you’re worried about having me around on Wednesday evenings when Joshua Harkness comes to call, ya need not worry. I’m willing to work on my own on Wednesday evenings.”

She shook her head. “No, this is more important. I can forego my visits with Joshua until the contest is over.”

When the meeting ended, Rose returned to the decorating shop, her mind in a whirl. Rylan’s remarks about her Wednesday evenings with Joshua had caught her off guard. While she was willing to forego their weekly visits, she’d already cancelled their visit for this evening because she’d fallen behind in her work. Other than telegraphing a brief message that he should curtail his visits for another four weeks, there seemed no way she could avoid their Wednesday evening outings.

She considered sending a telegram, but Joshua deserved better. He would have questions, and she wanted time to explain her decision. The contest was important, but she was certain Joshua would make the same concession for her if he were in a similar situation.

The success of McKay Pottery rested squarely on Rose’s shoulders. She’d convinced the family to purchase the pottery and had committed to make it a success. She did not intend to fail.

Conflicted feelings assaulted Rylan as he considered spending every evening at the McKay home. Polite conversation would be expected around the dining table, and he wasn’t accustomed to fancy meals or polite conversation. He did recall the food served at his home before he turned ten years old. Meals that had warmed and filled his belly while boisterous laughter abounded in their small kitchen. That had been before his mam died. After that, things changed. His da remarried, and his new wife did everything in her power to make Rylan’s life miserable. She cuffed him if he took more than half a serving from the stewpot, and mealtime was accompanied by rancor rather than laughter.

Even his name had changed. Instead of referring to him as Rylan, his stepmother called him “boy” or “you.” The fact that his father hadn’t stepped forward to protect him made Rylan’s decision to leave home quite simple. Once his wages provided enough money for him to rent a room in Mrs. O’Malley’s boardinghouse, he didn’t look back.

His room in the boardinghouse had been a solace. A place where he could arrange everything in an orderly fashion and feel assured nothing would be changed when he returned home. The boardinghouse table had been laden with plentiful good food, and his new home had provided a safe haven for a boy of only thirteen years. He had enjoyed the stability of working in the pottery, and until Mr. Bancock sold the place, there’d been no worry about change. Of course, he’d been moved from job to job in the pottery, but that wasn’t the same as the changes plucky Rose McKay had insisted upon once her family purchased the business.

Since that time, he’d accepted the idea of education for the children, but maybe Robert had been right. Maybe the only reason he’d been willing to accept that change was because it didn’t affect him.

On the other hand, the cleanliness rules had been an entirely different issue. During her first week at the pottery, Rose had insisted the work areas be cleaned and had posted signs that all employees were expected to wash their hands before eating. The employees had objected, but they knew there would be no choice in the matter. For the first few weeks, Rose prowled the work areas to make certain the rules were being followed. And she’d been clear that there would be more changes in the future. Once the pottery was profitable, she wanted separate washrooms installed for the men and women to wash and change clothes before returning to their homes. Rylan was sure that she’d come up with even more newfangled ideas once she didn’t have to worry about how few contracts they’d acquired.

The dwindling contracts dumbfounded Rylan. His expectations had been high when Mr. McKay started bidding on contracts. After all, the family had connections among businessmen in the big cities, and Mr. Bancock had talked as though the pottery would expand under Mr. McKay’s leadership. So far, that hadn’t proved to be correct, for they’d won few of their bids.