The Brickmaker's Bride

by Judith Miller

  “You’re not required to dance with her. Winston hopes to impress both the governor and his wife, because he wants to gain the governor’s support in the state senate election.”

  Ewan sighed. “That’s music to my ears and further confirmation that I do not ever want to run for a political office.” Ewan folded his arms across his chest and rested his hip against the railing. “You said politics don’t particularly interest you, so I’m curious why you would choose Mr. Hawkins as a steady escort. The two of you don’t seem to be well suited.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you were an authority on matchmaking, Mr. McKay.” For a moment he thought he’d angered her, but he caught a glimpse of her smile in the moonlight.

  “’Tis true I’m not an authority on love, but I do know two people who share common interests and conduct, and I don’t see similar aims between you and Mr. Hawkins.” He pushed away from the railing. “So tell me—what it is that draws you to him?”

  In the moonlight, he could see her knuckles turn white as she tightened her hold on the railing. “There are things that you don’t know, Mr. McKay. If you did, you wouldn’t ask that question. Suffice it to say that the thing that draws us together would be the very thing that would end a courtship for most couples.” With a slight bow, she released her hold on the balcony rail, grasped the fullness of her gown, and turned toward the doorway. “Good evening, Mr. McKay.”

  Ewan remained on the balcony and stared at the starlit sky while strains of violin music wafted through the open door. He leaned his forearms on the railing and contemplated Laura’s words. They made no sense. What would draw her to Winston but away from any other men? Could it have something to do with her mother, or perhaps with their finances? He doubted they could be in dire financial straits. After all, they’d recently received payment for the brickyard from his uncle. Perhaps there had been some promise between Laura’s father and Winston—something untoward that most men would consider unacceptable. He pondered the idea through the remainder of the next dance set and then decided to leave.

  Laura had been correct. Governor and Mrs. Boreman weren’t offended by his departure, and the cab driver was pleased to end the evening with some extra silver in his pocket.

  Arriving at the hotel, Ewan went directly to his room and to bed, but sleep eluded him. His thoughts remained on Laura and Winston, and on his inability to secure contracts.

  Tomorrow afternoon they would board a steamboat bound for Pittsburgh and more meetings. Meetings he hoped would yield a contract.

  Chapter 10

  Ewan rested his forearms on the railing of the steamboat as it chugged up the Ohio River toward Pittsburgh. Moments later, the wind shifted and he turned to avoid the unpleasant river odors and dank early evening air. He’d remained on the deck since they’d finished supper, watching as they passed forested banks and small towns with houses hugging the mountainsides. The high-pitched whistle of an occasional passing boat overshadowed the constant chugging of the boat.

  Thoughts of Rose and the twins overcame him as the moon ascended in the evening sky and cast a shimmering reflection on the murky river water. Were his sisters watching the moon right now? He hoped not. By his calculations, they should have been in their beds hours ago. While he was still aboard the ship coming to America, one of the sailors had spoken of the time difference and explained that time was earlier in America. At first Ewan thought the sailor was playing a joke on him, but he soon learned it was true. After that, whenever he thought of his sisters, he immediately estimated the time in Ireland. It helped him determine what they might be doing.

  “Did you decide you preferred your own company rather than visiting with other passengers in the dining saloon?” Winston stepped to Ewan’s side and leaned his back against the rail.

  “I was seated at a table with five strangers, all of them old enough to be my parents and most of them hard of hearing. Between my accent and their hearing problems, I had to repeat everything I said two or three times. It’s more relaxing to stand out here by myself.”

  “I thought perhaps you were brooding. Laura mentioned you were a bit discouraged by your inability to get any definite commitments at your meetings in Wheeling.”

  Ewan nodded. “That’s true enough. I’m thinking my uncle will be more than a little discouraged by the news and will consider the trip a failure on my part.”

  “You may meet with greater success in Pittsburgh. I know Laura has scheduled some meetings there with a number of her father’s former business colleagues.” He removed a cigar from his jacket pocket and twirled it between his fingers. “Laura also mentioned the fact that your uncle could use help with a loan to buy another VerValen machine. He spoke to me about the prospect of a loan, but I advised him I thought it prudent to wait. However, Laura asked that I reassess my position, and since I can’t be much help with your meetings in Pittsburgh, I’ve agreed to do what I can to help with the loan. You can tell your uncle to pay me a visit at my office after we return to Bartlett. I’ll take him over to the bank and make certain he gets whatever he needs to purchase additional machinery.”

  “That’s good of you, but once he hears the results of my trip, he may not be as eager to acquire any loans.” Ewan wanted to question Winston’s motives, but that would likely muddy the waters. Obviously he wanted to please Laura. The thought troubled him, but if he said anything that caused Winston to withdraw his offer, Uncle Hugh would be less than understanding.

  Winston shoved the cigar back in his pocket. Ewan gestured toward the lawyer’s jacket. “You ever smoke that thing or just carry it around?”

  “Laura doesn’t like the smell, so I try to refrain. But I still keep one on me most of the time.” He chuckled. “Old habits die hard. I’d better get back inside or Laura will think I’ve gone to bed and left her to fend for herself. Sure you don’t want to come in with me? I think there are some young single ladies who would be pleased to keep you company.”

  Ewan shook his head. He probably should accept the offer, as it was the first hospitable exchange he’d had with Winston since he’d joined them in Wheeling. “Thank you for the offer, but I believe I’ll turn in.”

  “I’m beginning to think you’re a man who enjoys a good night’s sleep more than a good party. Am I correct?”

  “Aye, that would be right. I’m better at burning bricks than making idle chatter with strangers.”

  “There’s much to be said for socializing, Ewan. You never know who you might meet. Could be someone sitting in that dining saloon who’s eager to find a good brick supply. I’ve struck many a bargain at a fancy dinner party.” He nudged Ewan. “And sometimes over a gaming table, as well.”

  “If you meet someone interested in bricks, you tell him to meet me for breakfast and we’ll talk business.”

  After bidding Winston good-night, Ewan pushed away from the railing. He didn’t want to return to the saloon and watch Winston fawn over Laura, and he didn’t want to try to strike a deal with gambling or drinking men. His uncle might be as crooked as a barrel of fish hooks, but Ewan had no desire to share his reputation.

  As they continued upriver the next day, the seating arrangements at meals remained the same, and Ewan saw little of Laura and her mother during the remainder of his time aboard the Liberty Belle. They were nearing Pittsburgh when Laura met him in the dining saloon. “I’m pleased I’ve finally located you.” She sat down opposite him. “I was visiting with some other passengers last evening, and they suggested you become acquainted with James Laughlin. He’s one of the owners of Jones and Laughlin, a company involved in the iron industry and coal mining.”

  “Is he in need of bricks?”

  Laura grinned. “I don’t know if he needs any bricks, but I do know he’s Scots-Irish. Like you, he’s from Ulster Province, and he could possibly help direct you to some people in the construction business.” She touched his arm. “And you’ll never guess what else Winston and I discovered.”

  “I’m sure I won�
��t.” The mention of Winston’s name diminished the pleasure he’d experienced when she’d touched his arm moments ago.

  “Then I’ll tell you.” Her voice trembled with excitement. “Thomas Mellon is Scots-Irish, as well. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Ewan wasn’t sure who Thomas Mellon was or why that fact should be so exciting. Before leaving Ireland, they knew there were many Scots-Irish who had settled in this region. “And why should that be exciting?”

  “He’s an assistant judge in the Allegheny County Court of Common Pleas and is highly respected. Winston is going to have one of his friends try to arrange a meeting for you with Mr. Mellon.”

  Her voice bubbled with excitement, but Ewan remained confused. Why did she and Winston think meeting a judge or a man who owned an iron business would be of any great help? He needed to meet men who owned construction businesses or architects—men who needed bricks to perform their work.

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

  “I can see you don’t think this will be helpful, but trust me, it will. If these men recommend you, business will come your way without the need of much effort on your part.” Her face radiated far more confidence than Ewan could muster.

  He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. After all, she was trying to help. “If you’re able to arrange the meetings, I’ll be pleased to discuss Ireland and my ancestry with your acquaintances.” Secretly, he’d already decided the meetings would be a waste of valuable time.

  “That’s important, of course, but you need to discuss the business with them, too. These men understand investments and growth. They can offer sound advice as well as recommendations to their friends who are in the construction business.”

  Ewan did his best to appear enthusiastic when Winston stepped into the room and patted Ewan on the shoulder. “I told you that time in the dining saloon could be valuable. You should have listened to me.”

  “Aye, you were right.” He wouldn’t say anything more, but he feared this trip to Pittsburgh was going to be as fruitless as his time in Wheeling. “Shall we go out and take in the fresh air?”

  Winston guffawed and pointed toward one of the windows. “I don’t think you’ll see much. Take a look out there. The closer to Pittsburgh, the hazier the view. Right now, you can barely see the shoreline, and it will only get worse. Believe me, you won’t need to step onto Duquesne Way to understand why folks refer to Pittsburgh as hell with the lid taken off. Some say living in Pittsburgh is good practice for those who are on their way to that fiery furnace the Bible promises.”

  When they disembarked a short time later, Ewan understood Winston’s earlier description of the city. The pervasive effects of industry blanketed the city in a miasma that blocked out the sun and cast a murky pall in every direction. In Ireland, the gloomy days were caused by foul weather that eventually gave way to the sun. But here it was impossible for the sun to ever penetrate the dark covering that hovered over the city.

  “I was right, wasn’t I?” Winston asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before hastening off to arrange for delivery of their baggage.

  Ewan took note of the people who swarmed the riverfront. He appeared to be the only person amazed that the sun, clouds, and sky were blotted from view. Remarkably, neither the crews unloading freight from steamers nor the crowds scurrying along the waterfront seemed to notice the haze. He gave fleeting thanks that he would soon leave this city. He needed fresh air and a bit of sunshine; Pittsburgh was short on both.

  Winston soon returned with news that the baggage would be delivered to the hotel. With a quick wave of his leather-gloved hand, he hailed a carriage. The man’s ability to handle every detail left Ewan feeling as useless as a stove without fuel.

  After assisting the ladies into the carriage, Winston leaned toward the driver. “Take us to the Monongahela House at the corner of Smithfield and Water Streets.”

  Ewan settled onto the leather seat beside Winston, with the two ladies sitting opposite.

  “The Monongahela House is one of Laura’s favorite hotels—isn’t it, Laura?” Winston grinned at her as if to imply they shared some special secret. When neither Laura nor Ewan responded, Winston leaned toward Laura and urged her to explain why she favored the hotel.

  “The Monongahela House hosted President Lincoln en route to his inauguration. He wasn’t president when he stayed at the hotel, but he was a guest and gave some brief remarks the evening he arrived and a formal speech the following morning.”

  “’Twill be an honor to have lodging at an inn where your President Lincoln was once a guest. I can understand why you are fond of the place.”

  Winston snorted. “This isn’t Ireland or the countryside, Ewan. The Monongahela House is a fine hotel, not an inn.”

  Laura frowned. “And if you were traveling in Ireland, would you know the proper name for every building, Winston? Your remark was offensive.”

  “And not particularly polite.” Mrs. Woodfield pursed her lips in disapproval.

  “You need not scold him on my account, ladies. I’m going to be staying in a fine hotel, and glad I am for that.” Ewan brushed a piece of lint from his trousers. “I’m sure Winston didn’t mean to be critical. That fact aside, I’ve developed a thick skin since coming to this country.”

  When the carriage came to a halt in front of the hotel a short time later, Winston straightened his shoulders and gestured toward the massive edifice. “I’m sure you understand why the president chose to stay here.”

  Ewan surveyed the five-story building constructed of blond brick and gave a nod. “’Tis quite a sight. Many bricks were needed to construct this fine hotel. If things go well, perhaps I’ll be making bricks that will be used to build some additional hotels in Pittsburgh,” he said as he followed the others into the massive foyer.

  The interior of the hotel featured white marble floors, black walnut stairways, and a ballroom lined with deep purple velvet curtains and topped with gilded ceilings. Though Ewan hadn’t seen the ballroom, Winston was quick to mention the many features. “There will be a gala hosted in the ballroom tomorrow evening.”

  Laura stepped closer. “Mr. Laughlin and Judge Mellon will be present. We’ll try to arrange for private meetings with both of them during the gala.”

  Ewan tried to match her excitement, but the most he could muster was a quiet thank-you. Dread hung over him as he ascended the stairs to his room on the second floor of the hotel. These final days of the journey were going to be no better than the first. He could feel it in his bones.

  He’d been correct. There had been meetings with Mr. Laughlin and Judge Mellon, and Ewan had enjoyed talking about the homeland with both of the men. They’d been welcoming and kind, even eager to hear about the brickyard and Ewan’s plans to make C&M Brickyard the finest in the country. They’d even alluded to future projects that would require large orders of bricks. Both men pledged their assistance in spreading the word to their colleagues and promised to maintain contact with Ewan. But, in the end, the meetings concluded without an offer to subsidize the brickyard with funds for additional equipment or a contract for bricks.

  During the return from Pittsburgh to Wheeling, Ewan kept to his stateroom as much as possible. He appeared for meals, but otherwise avoided contact with other passengers. Now that they’d settled at the hotel in Wheeling for the night, he knew he couldn’t avoid dinner with the others. Mrs. Woodfield had been clear when they arrived at the hotel that reservations had been made for all four of them in the main dining room.

  Shortly before six o’clock, Ewan descended the staircase. He’d crossed the hotel foyer and turned to the right when Winston appeared and grasped his arm. “Since we didn’t see much of you onboard the steamer, I’m surmising you weren’t feeling well. I wanted to visit alone with you before now, but since I couldn’t locate you, I decided to wait here in hopes we’d have a few minutes before joining the ladies.”

  “Something urgent to discuss?” Ewan carefully avoided the
comment about his health. He didn’t want to admit that it had been his sour mood and not his physical health that had kept him in his stateroom during their time on the steamer.

  “I haven’t yet told Laura or Mrs. Woodfield, but I won’t be returning until later in the week. There are a few other politicians I want to spend time with here. I know Laura will be disappointed, but she shares my political aspirations and will understand. I didn’t tell them earlier because I didn’t want to ruin the remainder of the trip for Laura.”

  Ewan attempted to digest Winston’s remarks. Were Winston’s political aspirations what had attracted Laura to Winston? She’d mentioned the fact that he’d only recently asked to court her. Had she waited until he told her of his interest in becoming a candidate before agreeing to be courted by him? Or had it been Mrs. Woodfield who’d been swayed by Winston’s ambitions? In truth, Mrs. Woodfield appeared more interested in politics than Laura, but Ewan couldn’t be positive. He’d learned that women had a way of hiding their true feelings from time to time.

  Winston nudged his arm. “Are you listening? It doesn’t appear you’ve heard a word I said.”

  Ewan startled back to the present. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the reason why Laura will be disappointed that you’re not immediately returning to Bartlett.”

  Winston pinned him with a scalding glare. “She will be disappointed because she enjoys my company and expects me to escort her home. When I arranged to meet the three of you in Wheeling, I told her we would be together for the remainder of the journey. Now I must break my promise.”

  “I see.” Even though he pretended to understand, Ewan couldn’t fathom why Winston thought Laura would be devastated by such an insignificant bit of news unless she cared for him more than she’d divulged.