The Potter's Lady (26 page)

Rose glanced over her shoulder as they neared the office doorway and was met by Rylan’s quick smile. “I’m hopin’ we’ll make some fine progress with our drawings this evening.”

She nodded, but her breath caught in her throat. While she admired Rylan’s newfound ability to listen and change, she’d been surprised by the sudden rush of warmth that sparked deep within when he would occasionally touch her hand or speak to her in a soft tone. She wasn’t positive when she’d begun to experience these strange feelings, but her first remembrance was when they were on the train returning from Pittsburgh. Rylan was seated beside her and had leaned across to point out a herd of deer. He’d brushed her hand, and his touch had evoked pleasure.

Though they still didn’t agree about everything, their collaboration had become increasingly enjoyable since their return. Now, rather than dreading the evenings with Rylan, she looked forward to this time alone when they could discuss their designs as well as the daily events at the pottery.

Yet while their relationship had progressed, the pottery continued to falter. The lack of contracts continued to create worry among the workers. Over the past month, Rylan had heard rumors that some were anxious enough to have begun looking for other employment. With each rejected bid, it became more difficult to allay their concerns.

Earlier in the day, they’d received word of yet another rejected bid, and Ewan’s spirits had plummeted as the three of them had gathered around his desk to discuss the future of the pottery. The despair in her brother’s voice had gnawed at Rose for the remainder of the day, and his quiet demeanor at dinner had underscored his concerns for the business.

“Ready to begin?”

Rylan’s question pulled Rose from her thoughts. He spread their latest drawings across the desk and pointed to one of her designs. “I think if you put a little more deep blue right here, this urn and plate would be more connected as a set.” He continued to stare at the drawings. When she didn’t respond, he turned to look at her. “What’s wrong? Have I upset you?”

“No.” She forced a smile and shook her head. “I was thinking about our meeting earlier today. I know Ewan is despondent about the lack of success with the pottery. I feel responsible for pushing him into purchasing the pottery.” She sighed and met his tender gaze. “I simply don’t understand how we can be underbid on every project. It seems such an impossibility that we are losing every contract.”

Rylan reached across the strewn papers on the desk and squeezed her hand. “I agree that we’ve hit a streak of bad luck with the bids, but I don’t see how you can hold yourself responsible. You’ve been trying your hardest since the first day you stepped across the threshold. The rejection of the bids has nothing to do with you. Do you figure the costs and write the bids?”

She shook her head. “Nay, but . . .”

He held up his hand to silence her. “Then there’s no reason to blame yourself. It’s Ewan and I that do the figuring, and somehow there are potteries who can produce at a lower cost, and they get the bids. It has nothing to do with you, Rose.”

She attempted to hold her tears in check, but a lone drop slipped down her cheek. Rylan cupped her chin and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “There’s no need for tears.”

She choked back the lump in her throat. “You don’t know all of what happened, Rylan. Ewan wanted to purchase the brickyard, but I interfered and did everything in my power to convince him the pottery would be a better choice.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I wanted to show off what I’d learned in school and prove that I could do something worthwhile. I let my pride take hold, and now I must live with what I’ve done.”

Rylan’s eyes shone with compassion. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Rose. I don’t think you made this decision on your own. ’Tis not your name on the contract with Mr. Bancock. Your brother agreed he wanted the pottery. I was there when all the meetings took place. I don’t believe the choice rests on your shoulders alone. And I don’t think Ewan believes that, either.”

Though Rylan’s words were meant to soothe her, they did little to lift the burden. She had convinced Grandmother Woodfield. In turn, the older woman had used her influence to persuade Ewan the pottery would be a better choice than the brickyard. And now the older woman’s warning rang in Rose’s ears.
“If we purchase the pottery, I expect great things
from you. I have no doubt Ewan can invigorate a
failing brickyard, but I’m not as certain he can
do the same with a pottery. That will rest on
your shoulders, Rose.”

“’Tis true we must all live with the consequences of our decisions, but beating yourself about the head isn’t going to help. I believe Ewan suggested we all continue to pray and ask God’s guidance. Am I right?”

She nodded. “He did, and I have been praying, but it seems God has turned a deaf ear.”

Rylan chuckled. “God never turns a deaf ear. He may not answer the way we want or as soon as we hope, but He hears us and wants only the best for us. Ya must remember that sometimes what we want isn’t what’s right for us, Rose. Only God knows what we truly need.”

“I know you’re right, but knowing that doesn’t change our situation.”

“Right ya are, so what we need to do is get busy with these drawings and create the most beautiful designs we know how to produce. If it be God’s will, then we’ll win that contest and have us a huge contract for the pottery.”

The lilt in his voice lifted her spirits, and she nodded in agreement. “I do think you’re right about the blue in this design. It will make it much better.”

He chuckled. “And here I was thinkin’ ya hadn’t even heard me mention the idea of adding a wee bit of dark blue to that urn.”

Rylan’s enjoyment of his time with Rose had increased tenfold since their visit to Pittsburgh, and he reveled in the fact that she now seemed to take pleasure in his presence, as well. Evening dinners around the McKay table had become an important part of his day. The camaraderie of the family and the joy they expressed, especially the twins, had become a special highlight. Ewan’s dinnertime conversation had seemed more forced of late, and Rylan remained uncertain if it was because of the pottery or because his wife was ailing again. Her absence from the dinner table had become more frequent, and he wondered about her well-being. She’d once again been absent this evening. When he offered prayers for the family, he’d begun to ask a special blessing for Mrs. McKay’s health.

As they continued to discuss their designs, Rylan decided to broach the subject with Rose. Though he didn’t want to pry, he didn’t want to appear indifferent. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Mrs. McKay. When we traveled to Pittsburgh, you mentioned she hadn’t been feeling well. Since she hasn’t been at dinner several times since we returned, I was wondering about her health.”

Rose glanced up from her sketching. “It’s kind of you to ask. She hasn’t been feeling herself for about three months now, but the doctor can find no reason for her bouts of illness. I know Laura’s health problems have caused Ewan a great deal of concern, and Mrs. Woodfield has been worried, as well. She’s insisted Laura see a doctor in Pittsburgh, though I wonder if she’ll be able to make the journey.”

“’Twould be a difficult journey for someone who’s not feeling well. I’ve been prayin’ for her. She’s a fine lady.”

“Yes. She’s been a gift to us. She’s like a sister to me and a mother to the twins. I could not have asked for Ewan to marry a more wonderful woman. Family is so important, don’t you agree?” Rose reached for a fresh sheet of paper.

Rylan’s stomach clenched in a knot. “Aye, a good and loving family is something everyone should experience.” He inhaled a deep breath and pushed aside thoughts of his childhood. He didn’t want to dwell on bad memories.

At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, he shifted and caught a glimpse of Beatrice’s auburn hair. He thought she was going to turn away, but she stopped short when Rose called her name.

“Did you need something, Beatrice?”

“Nay. I didn’t know the two of you was still workin’ in here, and I thought maybe I’d get me a book to read. I been havin’ trouble sleeping.”

Rose gestured toward the shelves that were lined with books of every sort. They’d moved Mr. and Mrs. Woodfield’s library, as well as the books Laura had accumulated since childhood, to their new home. “Help yourself. There are quite a few to choose from.”

Keeping his head bowed, Rylan watched as Beatrice meandered along one shelf. She traced her fingers along the spines of several books before she removed a thin volume. After looking at several pages, she returned it to the shelf before continuing around the room. When she’d reached a shelf near them, she sauntered across the carpeted floor and stopped by the desk.

“Are these the drawings you’re making for that contest you told me about, Rose?” She turned her back toward Rylan as she leaned closer to the desk.

Rose nodded. “We’re going to do a few more before we decide upon the one we like best.”

“They all look quite fine to me, but then I know very little about such things.”

Rylan eased his way around the desk until he could see Beatrice’s face. “Did ya try the chicken and biscuits special at the hotel restaurant the day I saw you there?”

Beatrice stiffened. “Nay. I’m not much for such a heavy lunch as that, but I’m sure it was good.”

He hadn’t missed the wariness in her voice, nor the suspicion that shone in her eyes. Rose looked up and tipped her head to the side. “When was this?”

“’Twas on me day off some time ago. I stopped in the hotel for a bite of lunch, and Rylan was there, as well. I believe you’d been fixin’ to leave about the time I arrived.”

Rylan nodded. “Right you are. I’m thinkin’ it was on a day when Joshua Harkness was at the hotel. I’d seen him in the dining room.”

Beatrice stepped away from the desk and turned toward the door. “I best get back up to the nursery in case Tessa wakes up.”

She hadn’t yet reached the door when Rylan said, “I thought it was a book you were after. Did ya forget, then?”

“Nay.” The braided loop of auburn hair that rested upon her nape swung back and forth when she turned toward him. “I did not forget, but I need to check on Tessa.” She scurried out of the room before he could question her further.

“Strange. I didn’t realize Beatrice enjoyed reading. I have some books in my room she might enjoy.” Rose stood and held up the sketch she’d been working on. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s almost as lovely as the woman who drew it.” He shouldn’t have been so bold, but it was too late to take back the words.

A bright splash of pink colored Rose’s cheeks. “Thank you for the compliment, but—”

“I know what I said was improper, and I hope you’ll forgive me, but I spoke the truth. You are so lovely, and I would ask your brother for permission to court you if I was a man of proper social standing—and if you weren’t in love with Joshua Harkness.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she backed away from him. “In love? I have never declared my love for Joshua or for any other man.”

Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to pursue the topic of Joshua, but there might not be another opportunity. “If you don’t care for him, why do you accept him as a suitor and let him continue to call on you every week?”

“I didn’t say that I don’t care for him. Joshua has many admirable qualities, but I don’t love him. Right now, I consider him a friend, and I think that’s how he feels about me, as well.” Her shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug. “Who can say what the future holds for us? Laura says that sometimes love can grow out of friendship.” She hesitated a moment. “I don’t know if that will happen between Joshua and me. Sometimes I think he is so determined to succeed and please his father that there is no room in his life for anything or anyone else.”

“If I had the opportunity to court someone like you, I’d make room in my life and in my heart for her.” His words hung in the air. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and tore his gaze from hers. “But of course, that’s between you and the man who is courting you. It’s certainly not any of my business.”

“Isn’t it?” Rose whispered.

“Not as long as you’re being courted by another man.”

B
eatrice wasn’t certain if Joshua would show up today, but she held out hope he’d be at the hotel when she arrived. She was growing tired of his taking her for granted and expecting she would appear on the Wednesdays when he might decide upon coming to Grafton. Being left to her own devices, she’d gone to his regular room last week and once again been met at the hotel door by a stranger. She had backed away, saying she couldn’t remember her room number, but she wasn’t certain the man believed her. Her embarrassment continued as he’d watched her walk the length of the hallway and returned downstairs. There’d been no escaping down the back stairway, and she’d silently cursed her circumstances.

That foolish pottery contest couldn’t be over soon enough to suit her. Maybe then Joshua would return to his regular schedule. Better yet, once she told him about the designs she’d seen in the library, maybe he’d forget about Rose McKay and realize he needed a real woman, a woman like her. She smiled at the thought as she walked along the path behind the livery and up the back stairway.