The Brickmaker's Bride

by Judith Miller

  “I see.” Laura searched for something more to say, but the girl’s announcement caught her off guard.

  Shame clouded Kathleen eyes. “Margaret is going to be as mad as a wet hen. There will be no mollifying her once she finds out.”

  “Just because you haven’t seen Terrance doesn’t mean he won’t do the right thing. After all, your sister has made it clear he’s not welcome to call on you.” Laura couched her words with as much hope as she could muster, but she knew Margaret would prove a formidable opponent to the idea of a marriage to Terrance. Still, with a baby on the way, what other choice was available to the girl? Margaret might not like the idea, but she would have to accept the marriage.

  Kathleen’s lips curved in a slight smile. “Maybe you’re right about Terrance. He used to sneak over to see me after the others were in bed, but I’ve waited for him most every night lately, and he hasn’t come back. Maybe Margaret discovered we were meeting and had Hugh go and tell him to stay away.”

  Laura didn’t miss the glimmer of hope in Kathleen’s eyes. “I believe the first thing you must do is talk to Terrance. Tell him about the baby and make him understand that no matter what Margaret or Hugh says, you want to become his wife.”

  Minutes crawled by before Kathleen slowly nodded. “I know you’re right. And I know I must talk to him right away, but . . .” She wrung her hands together. “Would you go with me? Could you have your driver take us to the livery in town?” Apprehension clung to her words like thick molasses.

  Laura’s mind reeled. She hadn’t expected to be drawn further into Kathleen’s plight, yet how could she refuse the girl? “I’ll have Zeke bring the buggy around to the front. In the meantime, let me go upstairs and tell my mother that I’m going to be leaving the house for a while.”

  When she returned downstairs, Kathleen was pacing the front hallway, her footfalls muffled by the Axminster carpeting. “You didn’t tell your mother about me, did you?” Worry lines creased her forehead.

  Laura pulled on her gloves as they walked outside, where Zeke stood beside the horse and carriage. “I merely said that I was driving you into Bartlett and wasn’t sure when I would return. Since she’s suffering one of her headaches, she’ll likely be in bed most of the day. She waved me off without any questions, though she may have a few when I return.”

  They hadn’t gone far when Kathleen suggested they stop at the mercantile. “Then you can tell your mother we went shopping.” She fidgeted with her reticule. “I have enough money to purchase some thread. I wouldn’t want you to tell a lie on my account.”

  “Don’t worry about what I tell Mother. I can worry about that. Instead, why don’t you decide what you’re going to say to Terrance when we get into Bartlett.”

  “Aye. ’Tis true I need to give that some thought.”

  Late summer and early fall had been unusually warm and dry. Dust plumes rolled from beneath the buggy as they continued along the sunbaked dirt road. Silence stretched between them like a yawning chasm. Kathleen’s hands never stilled during the ride, a sure sign she continued to fret about her meeting with Terrance.

  When they approached the outskirts of town, Kathleen turned pale. “What if he isn’t there? What if he won’t talk to me?”

  “I’m sure he’s going to be thrilled to see you.” She hoped her words offered a bit of reassurance.

  Truth be told, Laura couldn’t even imagine the fear that Kathleen likely felt at this moment. She pulled back on the reins and slowed the horse as they entered town and rode past the mercantile, the bank, the milliner’s shop, and a host of other businesses that lined Bartlett’s main street. Laura glanced at Kathleen. The girl sat with her shoulders tensed and her stare fastened upon the unpainted frame building that housed the livery. Kathleen didn’t move a muscle once the buggy came to a halt.

  Laura patted the girl’s hand and offered an encouraging smile. “I’ll wait here until you make certain Terrance is inside. If he’s there, step to the door and wave me on. I’ll go to the mercantile, and you can walk over when you’ve finished talking to him.”

  “Aye.” She didn’t appear capable of uttering anything more.

  Laura watched as Kathleen disappeared inside the livery and then reappeared and waved. Laura had offered a silent prayer that Terrance was at the livery and their talk would go well. Perhaps she and Kathleen would be purchasing fabric for a wedding dress before they left town. The thought pleased her. Though not the best of circumstances to begin a marriage, Laura hoped the two of them would find happiness in spite of any obstacles Margaret might place in their way.

  In the mercantile, she made her way down several aisles before stopping to admire some lace that would add a lovely touch to a dress for Kathleen.

  “I thought that was your buggy I saw outside.”

  Laura startled and discovered Winston was standing only a few steps away.

  “Looking for something special?” His gaze fell on the lace. “That appears to be lace edging for a wedding gown.” His lips curved in a knowing smile. “Have you begun making your wedding gown without including me in your plans?”

  His remark was so startling that she was momentarily rendered speechless. She’d been clear about her intentions the other night. Although Winston had attempted to divert their conversation away from problems at the brickyard, she’d been clear that she wanted the bank to give Ewan additional time to meet the financial obligation. When they parted, she’d been even more explicit, so now to hear him speak of marriage and act as though she were shopping for wedding gown fabric only served to annoy her further. Surely he realized his inapt remarks wouldn’t sit well with her.

  Laura rested her hand on a bolt of fabric. “You must have misunderstood our conversation before we parted the other night, though I believe I was very explicit. Our beliefs are far too disparate for me to ever consider a future with you. I could never marry you.”

  His lips curled in a sneer. “And do you believe you’ll find a husband willing to accept you with your little problem? I doubt Ewan McKay will want to marry a woman who can’t bear him an heir.”

  Laura gasped at his cruel words. “I’m shocked you would speak to any woman in such a vile manner.” She took a backward step and inhaled a deep breath as she attempted to digest the pain Winston had so willingly inflicted. “Ewan McKay has nothing to do with my opinion about you and your behavior, but if it eases your mind, please know that I would never marry a man without being honest.”

  The anger in his eyes seared her. “You’re determined to make a fool of me, but in the end, we shall see who is truly the fool.”

  Winston’s words sizzled with bitterness as he turned on his heel and stormed down the aisle of dry goods and out the front door. His heated response pulsed in her ears, and she leaned against the display counter to gain her bearings. She could only imagine how he would have acted if he’d known she’d enlisted her mother to help Ewan secure financial aid to make the bank payment.

  Convincing her mother to help had required a great deal of finesse. While her mother didn’t want to see the brickyard fail, she wasn’t thrilled to lend help to Hugh or Margaret Crothers, both of whom had proved to be untrustworthy. However, Laura’s gentle persuasion and a mention of Christian duty had convinced her mother that the many employees, as well as Ewan and his three sisters, would suffer dearly if the brickyard failed. Laura’s mother had finally agreed that her distaste for Hugh and Margaret Crothers and their unseemly behavior should not color her decision.

  Once she agreed to lend her help, Mrs. Woodfield had done everything in her power to maintain secrecy in the negotiations. Still, Laura and her mother both understood how businessmen tended to talk about business ventures—even when they’d agreed to keep matters private—and Laura feared word might leak out at any time. Her mother remained certain their plan would remain a secret, but her mother’s confidence hadn’t eased Laura’s concerns. However, the fact that Winston hadn’t seemed to know gave her hope that her moth
er was correct.

  A short time later, Laura turned and caught sight of Kathleen as she entered the store. After taking a slow breath, Laura forced a broad smile. She didn’t want Kathleen to know this trip into town had resulted in a confrontation with Winston.

  As Kathleen drew closer, Laura noted the girl’s splotchy complexion. She’d obviously been crying. Laura reached forward and grasped her hand. “Do you need to sit down?” The girl appeared as though she might faint at any moment. Laura glanced about, hoping to locate a chair.

  “Nay. Please, I want to leave.” When Laura didn’t immediately move toward the door, Kathleen tugged on her hand. “I don’t want to stay here.”

  Laura placed her arm around Kathleen’s waist and escorted her to the buggy. Once she was ensconced inside and they’d traveled beyond the outskirts of town, Kathleen began to cry, and soon her soft weeping intensified until her entire body was heaving with uncontrollable sobs.

  Unable to console the girl while driving the buggy, Laura pulled to the side of the road, then drew Kathleen into an embrace. “Tell me what happened. I can’t help you unless I know what you and Terrance decided. You did speak to him, didn’t you?”

  She sniffled and gave a slight nod. “He doesn’t want to marry me.” Her voice hitched and her tears once again flowed.

  Laura was sure Kathleen had misunderstood. Surely Terrance hadn’t understood the depth of Kathleen’s dilemma—of their dilemma. “Did you tell him about the baby?”

  She nodded. “He said he’s going to marry Jenny O’Malley. They were seeing each other before he ever met me. He says it’s her that he loves, not me.” Her voice was laced with tears as she continued the tale. “When I told him about the baby, he said he doubted it was his, and that a girl that was as easily bedded as me had surely been sleeping with every man she ever met.” Her wails cut through the scorching heat.

  Laura snapped open her fan and waved it back and forth in front of Kathleen’s face. “What a despicable thing for him to say! What kind of man is he that he’d treat you in such a manner?” Laura placed an arm around Kathleen’s shoulder.

  “Promise you won’t tell anyone until I have a chance to talk to Margaret and Hugh. I don’t want them to find out from someone else.”

  Laura patted her hand. “You have my word, but you must try to calm yourself. Please know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  Chapter 23

  The afternoon sun beat down across the brickyard and blended with the thick humidity to produce torturous weather that continued to take its toll on the men. Though the workers attested to the fact that the weather was odd for September, they’d affirmed they’d experienced hot Septembers in the past. They’d also mentioned those hot Septembers had been followed by early winters, a fact Ewan wasn’t pleased to hear. He wanted as much time as possible to produce the necessary bricks to fulfill all pending contracts.

  Ewan strode down the hillside to check on the progress of the afternoon shift, a task he’d taken on since they’d begun the nearly nonstop operation at the yard. The men who worked the early shift arrived while darkness shrouded the hillsides, and the men who worked the late shift arrived when the sun was beginning its descent. They were the fortunate ones. The men working during the heat of the day suffered the most. Ewan disliked requiring them to work in these conditions, but if they didn’t make up for the two kilns of ruined bricks, the company wouldn’t survive. There was no time for resting in the shade during the heat of the day.

  He continued to work at a frenzied pace, all the time realizing his efforts would be in vain if they couldn’t meet the deadline for the bank note. On the other hand, his uncle had adopted a somewhat complacent attitude that Ewan failed to understand. The money invested in the brickyard—the money that would be lost if they didn’t meet their financial obligation—had belonged to his uncle.

  Ewan had gone only a short distance when the pounding of horse hooves caused him to turn. From atop his horse, his uncle gestured. “Get on up here, Ewan. I need to have a word with you.”

  With a sigh, Ewan trudged back up the hillside to the office, where his uncle stood tying his horse. His uncle had remained away from the brickyard for days, but the moment he appeared, he expected everyone to do his bidding—Ewan included.

  Ewan was still a short distance from his uncle when he gestured toward the yard. “I need to go down and check on progress. Have you managed to secure the money we need to make the bank payment?”

  “That’s why I’ve come to talk to you, so get yourself up here, where I don’t have to strain me voice.”

  Though he knew his uncle had overextended his assets with the construction of a new home and the purchase of expensive furnishings, Ewan wasn’t certain he had depleted all of his funds. The man tended to hide his true state of financial affairs, so Ewan held out hope his uncle possessed at least enough money to stave off the bank’s promise of seizure.

  His uncle pushed his hat back a few inches, withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “Not enough to meet the full payment, but I’m still working on it.”

  While Ewan and the men at the brickyard continued to labor, Ewan relied upon prayer to keep himself from dwelling on the possible loss of their business. His uncle usually came up with money, albeit not always in a legal manner. Even though the man had indicated he didn’t have money to make the full bank payment, Ewan wasn’t sure he’d been told the truth. He hoped his uncle continued to exaggerate his lack of funds in order to curtail Aunt Margaret’s spending.

  “Exactly how are you working on it, Uncle Hugh? Are you meeting with some businessmen who might offer a short-term loan? If so, you can tell them we’re working overtime to meet our orders and they can expect repayment as soon a—”

  “Hold your britches, boy. Since when am I needing your advice on how to conduct business?” Hugh tugged on the end of his mustache and pinned Ewan with a look of disdain.

  Ewan’s weariness and his uncle’s sharp words joined together, and Ewan said forcefully, “You needed my advice a long time ago, but you were too proud to take it. If you would have listened to me before you signed that contract giving us so little time to make our payments, we wouldn’t be in this position. And you shouldn’t have hired Rudy Banks, either. It’s your doing that’s landed us in this kettle of fish, so you shouldn’t be acting so high and mighty when I ask about the bank loan.” He waved toward the brickyard. “The men are working in the heat of the day to try to make a go of this, so I hope you’ve been doing as much to help with the problem.”

  He’d seen little of his uncle since the calamity at the brickyard, but they lived in separate houses now, so there was no telling whether Uncle Hugh had been lazing about or if he’d actually been attempting to secure the necessary funds. But Ewan wanted to know. Mrs. Woodfield had sent word she wanted to meet this afternoon—likely to know what was happening with the brickyard. No doubt she worried her late husband’s business would once again lay idle. And though the closure might cause her a certain degree of distress, it would cost Ewan a great deal more.

  “I’ve used all my resources and managed to come up with only a little less than half of what we need. Folks around here don’t part with their money as easily as those living around the large cities. I’m having a hard time locating anyone willing to join me at the gaming tables.”

  Ewan sighed. He had hoped his uncle would seek help from legitimate businessmen, but it seemed Uncle Hugh wasn’t going to give up his old habits easily. “I had hoped you’d seek help through another bank or speak to some of the businessmen you’ve met since we’ve arrived.”

  “Aye, and if you think I would have had a bit of luck with those ideas, you’re daft in the head. There’s no one in this town who’s going to loan me money, and you can be sure all those businessmen you’re talking about are friends of Winston Hawkins and his banker friends.” His uncle’s eyes glazed with anger. “There’s about as much chance
of that happening as there is of the Lord answering all them prayers of yours.”

  “The Lord answers all of our prayers, Uncle Hugh—maybe not the way we’d like, but He always answers. Trouble is, you want to take credit for the good things that happen in your life and blame others, God included, for the bad that happens. I don’t know when you strayed so far from the beliefs you learned years ago, but you need to turn back and put God first in your life.”

  “I don’t want to be listening to your preachin’ any more than I want to hear Margaret nagging me for money.” His uncle shifted around and pointed toward the yard. “You got enough bricks down there that if I found a buyer, we could go ahead and sell them outright?”

  Ewan stared at his uncle in disbelief. “Those bricks, along with the ones we’re continuing to make, are promised under the contract made with Mr. Bruce. We can’t sell them to someone else.”

  Hugh hiked a shoulder. “If we don’t sell what bricks we’ve got ready, we won’t have enough money to pay the bank. You can tell Mr. Bruce we’ll get his shipment upriver as soon as we can, but he shouldn’t expect it for at least a month.”

  “They’re waiting on those bricks to complete their apartment buildings, Uncle Hugh. We can’t sell the bricks to someone else.”

  “Mr. Bruce won’t pay until he has the full amount called for in the contract, am I right?”

  “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean we can sell bricks we’ve made for them to another buyer just because we don’t have their full shipment ready. We’ll put their project so far behind they won’t be able to complete their buildings before winter sets in.”

  “Maybe I should talk to Mr. Bruce and tell him his options.” Uncle Hugh pulled his pipe from his jacket pocket. “Maybe then he’d pay us enough to meet the bank loan.”