Rylan shook his head. “Not a word. Thanks for your help.”
The boy scurried off toward the kitchen, and Rylan walked out the front door. He’d have to hurry, or Ewan would question where he’d been all this time. Rylan wasn’t sure if he should tell his employer about what he’d seen, but one thing was certain: Ewan would be concerned about those bids getting in the mail.
When Rylan returned to the office, Ewan glanced at the clock. “Any problems? I was beginning to get worried.”
Rylan shook his head. “No problems. Clyde said to set your mind at ease. He’ll make sure your mail is on the afternoon train. Guess I took a little longer than usual eating lunch. Clyde mentioned the noon special at the hotel, and I decided to go there. Figured it might be busy, but the chicken and gravy on biscuits tempted me.”
Ewan looked up from the pile of paper work strewn across his desk. “Aye, the hotel is always busy during the noon hour.” He gestured for Rylan to sit down. “I asked Rose to come to the office. She should be here shortly. We are going to have to make some decisions about the pottery, and you need to be here.”
Excitement swelled in Rylan’s chest, and he straightened his shoulders. He hadn’t expected to win Ewan’s confidence so quickly. To be included in decisions with Ewan and his sister must mean they valued his opinion. Ewan had been poring over the books the last few days, and the figures weren’t good. Perhaps they hoped to figure out some new way to increase orders.
While he waited, he tapped his foot against the wooden floor, his thoughts returning to the earlier events he’d witnessed in town. Should he tell Ewan what he suspected? If Rose was his sister, he’d be thankful for any information that would help to protect her, yet he didn’t know how Ewan might receive the news.
Rylan didn’t want his new employer to think him a man who stirred up trouble, especially since he didn’t possess any real evidence of Joshua’s wrongdoing. Rylan traced his fingers through his thatch of unruly hair. Revealing what he’d seen was too risky. He’d have to figure out another way to make Rose and Ewan think twice about Mr. Harkness.
Minutes later Rose hurried into the office, her indigo print dress protected by a stained canvas work apron. With a slight huff, she withdrew a hairpin from her apron pocket, tucked several wayward strands of hair into place, and jammed the pin into her upswept coif. That done, she dropped onto the chair beside Rylan.
He gave her a sidelong glance and wondered if she’d be devastated to learn what he’d seen only a short time ago. Did she already love Joshua, and would his unseemly behavior break her heart? She deserved a man who would cherish and love only her, not a philandering cad.
A momentary wave of guilt washed over him as he embraced thoughts of a future—a future with Rose at his side. If Joshua wasn’t courting her, would she consider him as a suitor? Nay. He silently chastised himself. Rose would marry a wealthy young man, a man of importance—a man like Joshua Harkness.
He was pulled from his wandering thoughts when Rose shifted in her chair. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I needed to finish the piece I was working on, or it would have been ruined. Aren’t our weekly meetings enough to take care of any problems?”
Ewan rested his arms on the heavy wooden desk. “Some things don’t need to be discussed with all of the supervisors present, and if I ask you and Rylan to remain after a regular meeting, some of the foremen would quiz Rylan about what was discussed. It puts him in a difficult position.”
Rose folded her hands and leaned back in the chair. “As long as it doesn’t take long. We’re busy in the decorating shop.”
Her tone bore a hint of impatience, and Ewan frowned. “Aye, and we’re busy here in the office, as well. We’re trying to decide how we’re going to pay all the bills and have enough money to pay the wages to the workers each week.”
She rubbed her temple. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to imply what I’m working on is more important than what you and Rylan are doing.”
“I know.” Ewan gave her a hint of a smile. “I wanted you to know we prepared several bids, and Rylan mailed them earlier today, but there’s no guarantee we’ll get the contracts. If it’s like the ones I sent out earlier in the month, we’ll get more rejection letters.” He pushed a ledger book across the desk in her direction. “If you take a look, you’ll see the numbers don’t match up very well.”
Rylan stared into a far corner. Being in the middle of a disagreement between family members wasn’t any more comfortable than being quizzed by the foremen. Besides, he had his doubts he’d be pleased with the outcome of this conversation. He and Ewan had already discussed the pottery’s finances.
Ewan was certain they needed to modify and enlarge their production in order to compete. Rylan disliked the idea of adding or removing items currently produced and believed it was too soon to consider further changes. Rose had already instituted more modifications than most of the workers wanted. Who could guess what she might suggest during this meeting?
Rose leaned forward and pushed the ledger back toward her brother. “I believe you, Ewan. I don’t need to look at the figures. You may be surprised to know that I’ve given this matter a great deal of thought. I haven’t forgotten that I’m the one who said we could make the pottery a prosperous business. I have an idea that may change this pottery forever.”
Her words sent a chill sluicing through Rylan’s body. Change. Rose’s favorite way to resolve problems, and his greatest aversion.
She scooted to the edge of her chair, her eyes shining with excitement. “If you would have asked for my ideas a few days ago, they would have been very different from the one I’m going to give you today.”
Ewan placed his hand atop the open ledger. “And why is that?”
She reached into her apron pocket, but rather than a hairpin, she withdrew an envelope. “This is a letter I received from Mrs. Fisk.” She looked at Ewan. “You’ll recall she is the director at the Philadelphia School of Design for Women.”
“Aye. I remember meeting her. I didn’t know you’d stayed in touch with her.”
“We’ve exchanged a few letters. She’s remained interested in my future plans.”
Ewan chuckled. “I do remember she didn’t think you’d be able to use your skills anywhere but in a large city. Does she still hold with that belief?”
“I think she agrees I’ll be able to use my talents here at the pottery.”
“What does she have to say that we need to hear?” Ewan leaned back in his chair.
“She’s sent me a bit of news that has changed my thinking. Before today, I was going to suggest we cease producing anything other than our specialty pieces.”
“What?” Rylan jumped to his feet. “How would that help anything?” Fear and anxiety gripped him in a tight hold.
Rose startled and her mouth gaped open.
Rylan could feel the heat rise in his cheeks as he dropped to his chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.”
Rose gave him a slight nod. “Since you asked, I thought we could develop a plan to make our pottery into an exclusive business that would create one-of-a-kind pieces that would fetch prices far above anything we currently make. News travels quickly. Once our work was sought after by the wealthy, we could begin to name our price.” She leaned toward her brother. “I thought we could exhibit pieces in the homes of some of your business contacts, and soon we’d have orders pouring into the office.”
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 difficultie
s.” 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.
Chapter 14
Rose 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 bette
r 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.
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