The Artisan's Wife Page 10

  “And do you think that takes away the pain of leaving your work and fiancée in Philadelphia?” She hadn’t planned to ask about his intended bride, but curiosity won out.

  She wasn’t sure if she’d angered or surprised him. His lips tightened, and he stared at his shoes for what seemed an eternity before he finally lifted his head. “I won’t say that making simple floor tiles gives me pleasure, but I’m holding on to my dream that one day I’ll still be able to create the beautiful tiles I’ve designed. I don’t have to live in Philadelphia to make my tiles any more than you must live in Grafton to teach. I’m sure the Lord will open a door for each of us when the time is right.”

  She edged forward on the bench. “Have you ever considered the possibility of owning your own tile works? If you were an owner, you could produce whatever you wanted.”

  Levi chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think I’m going to be the answer you’re seeking in order to escape the tile works, Miss McKay. There’s no way I could afford to buy a tile works—or any other business for that matter.” He nodded toward the asylum. “Most of what I’ve earned has been used trying to find help for my brother, but I’ve made peace with my situation. Isn’t that what the Apostle Paul did? I hope you’ll be able to do that, too.”

  His words pierced her. Was that what she needed to do? Make peace with her situation? Ewan said she needed to release her anger and forgive Adaira. She’d done her best and believed she’d forgiven her sister, but did she need to do even more? Levi made it sound as though she needed to go beyond forgiveness, accept what had happened, and seek happiness and fulfillment in order to find true peace. Was that even possible? If so, she would need God’s help.

  The hack appeared down the street and soon rolled to a stop near the bench. After Levi assisted her into the carriage, she settled against the worn leather cushion. Thoughts tumbled through her mind all the way to the boardinghouse. Just as they arrived she was struck with an idea. She couldn’t change her situation, but maybe she could change things for Levi.

  Chapter 11

  On Monday morning, Ainslee arrived at the tile works with an enthusiasm she hadn’t experienced since her days teaching at the pottery school. Levi had been correct. She needed to embrace her new life. While she still didn’t plan to permanently remain in Weston, she was now determined to stretch her knowledge and become more involved in the tile works.

  After completing a portion of her bookkeeping entries, Ainslee strode across the courtyard. Several men were busy beneath the covered walkway, packing crates and barrels. Amazement shone in the workers’ eyes when they caught sight of her. They nodded in recognition, but their initial surprise was soon replaced with looks of apprehension. Since she seldom left the office, her unexpected appearance was likely the cause of their concern. She smiled and offered them a cheery greeting, but it didn’t lessen their uneasiness. They stole wary looks at one another, and she felt the tension rise as she passed by and entered the building.

  She chided herself for having kept to the office all the time. If she’d demonstrated more of a presence since her arrival, the men wouldn’t now be worried to see her appear in the workrooms. As Ainslee continued along the interior walkway, she decided regular morning visits to each of the work areas would be in order. Today she was intent upon a visit to the cutting room, where she could talk to Levi.

  When she stepped inside the mixing room, Ainslee greeted the men operating the mixers. Perhaps if she told them of her recent decision to make daily visits, they would pass along her pronouncement during their lunch break. She stopped beside Robert and told him of her plan. He frowned, and Ainslee caught her lower lip between her teeth to stifle a laugh. His wrinkled features were a match for the neighbor’s pet bulldog in Grafton.

  “Has something happened that makes you think we’re not doing our jobs?” Robert turned away and poured water into the mixer.

  Ainslee sighed. Why did he immediately want to link her presence with something negative? “Quite the contrary, Robert. I think you men are performing well. We’re meeting our orders on time, and there have been no complaints from customers.”

  Robert gave a firm nod. “That’s good to hear.” The lines in his brow once again formed. “Seems you’d have plenty to do in the office. Mrs. Ploughman said she had trouble keeping up with all the timecards, contracts, and such.”

  Robert looked at Harold in obvious expectation, but Harold merely shrugged. “Maybe Miss McKay can work numbers quicker than Mrs. Ploughman.”

  Ainslee chuckled. “I doubt my abilities are greater than those of Mrs. Ploughman. However, I want to visit the work areas more often so I can expand my knowledge of the products we offer for sale. My brother has learned a great deal regarding the production of both bricks and pottery because he not only worked in the office but also visited with the workmen and became aware of what would help them produce a better product. I hope to do the same.”

  Robert blew out a long breath. “We been making the same tiles for years, but I guess if you want to see if you can improve things, that’s up to you. This is your business, but I don’t see how changing things is going to help.”

  This wasn’t going at all as she’d planned. She should have expected some of the men would resist having a woman in the workrooms—especially the ones who’d been there for years. While they’d come to accept her presence in the office, her visits to the work areas would be another matter.

  She needed to assure them she wasn’t there to change things or spy on them. “I don’t plan to change anything regarding our current tile production, Robert. Even if we added something new, the flooring tiles would remain our most important product.”

  He didn’t appear completely convinced, but she didn’t plan to back down. She crossed to the far side of the room and stood a short distance from where Levi was operating the cutting machine. He had inserted the blades that would cut the clay into the small tiles known as Cluny quarries.

  Levi looked up as he lifted the cutting arm. “Good morning.” The same concern she’d seen in the eyes of the other workers appeared in Levi’s eyes. “Is there a problem?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “It seems my appearance in the work areas is causing a great deal of alarm.”

  He chuckled. “We’re all accustomed to seeing you only in the office. This is the first time I’ve seen you in the cutting room since I began work here.”

  “I took a tour when I first arrived. Until today, that and the day I introduced you were my only times inside this portion of the building.” She squared her shoulders. “I’ve taken your advice and plan to learn more about the tile-making process. I thought I’d begin by learning to cut tiles.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “Using any of the equipment isn’t for a lady. It would be far too dangerous. You don’t need to use the tools in order to learn about making tiles. Observation is all that’s necessary.”

  She shook her head. “Watching you doesn’t let me experience how difficult it is for the blades to cut through the clay or feel the weight or strength needed to use the equipment. I think I can learn a great deal if I try to use the cutter and forms.”

  “That may be true, but I don’t see how that’s going to help you understand more about the business. I think you’d learn much more by observing and asking questions. I know you are my employer, but I won’t supervise your use of the machine.”

  She didn’t argue, but if he thought she wasn’t going to try using the cutting tool, he didn’t know her very well.

  “Did you have some question I can answer about my work in the cutting room?”

  “I know how many tiles can be cut in a day and the various sizes. I also know you exceed the quota. I have to be acquainted with that information for the contracts. I’ve seen the forms and other equipment.” She hesitated a moment. “Maybe you should tell me about the ideas you have for making decorative tiles.”

  He’d mentioned the fact that he had some new ideas; perhaps
now was the time for her to hear about them. When the McKays had first taken over, she’d mentioned the idea of decorative tiles to Ewan—mostly because she thought it might make the tile works more sought after by potential buyers. Since her primary desire had been to sell the tile works, he’d dismissed the idea, stating costs and risk as his defense. She hadn’t argued, but if Levi could prove Ewan’s assessment wrong, perhaps her brother could be convinced.

  He gave her a sidelong glance as he picked up a slab of clay. “If you think there is an opportunity to try some of my new methods for decorative tiles here, I would be pleased to share them with you, but we’d need time so that I could show you the process that interests me the most.” The excitement in his voice mounted. “I have some drawings at the boardinghouse if you’d like to see them.”

  “Wonderful. If I find your ideas promising, we can speak to my brother when he visits next. I can’t promise he’ll be open to the idea, but I know he’ll at least listen.”

  When the bell clanged to signal the lunch break, Ainslee gestured to the door. “I don’t want to keep you from your lunch. We can discuss this more when I can look at your drawings.”

  His enthusiastic grin was contagious. “I could also explain the process for some of the decorative tiles already being produced in a few other tile works. I think we could create some unique designs, and I have ideas for glazes that aren’t being used anywhere else.”

  She returned his grin with a smile of her own. “I look forward to hearing about them. I think expanding our products could prove beneficial.”

  He stooped down and picked up his lunch pail. He turned for the door, then hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s time for lunch. Are you going to eat?”

  She moved a short distance from the equipment. “Yes, but I’m going to look around a bit more.”

  Careful to wait until she was certain Levi had joined the other men in the courtyard, Ainslee turned to the sharp-bladed piece of equipment. A thick piece of wood held twelve sharp blades spaced at equal distance. When plunged into the clay, it would cut the large rectangles referred to as cut blanks. A groan escaped her lips as she hoisted a slab of the heavy clay onto the cutting bed. Levi had cut these same rectangles only a few minutes ago, and she’d carefully observed how he’d completed the procedure.

  Certain she could maneuver the blades, she stepped to the side and released the latch with her left hand. The blades descended with a mighty thrust and sliced through the clay with precision.

  A primal scream echoed throughout the cavernous building. A searing pain shot through the side of her right hand as blood gushed from the wound and spilled onto the floor and across the clay. Within moments, Levi, Harold, and Robert were rushing into the cutting room. She stared into Levi’s horrified eyes for only a moment before her body betrayed her and she slumped to the floor.

  Voices murmured around her, and Ainslee willed her eyes to open. Blurred figures hovered over her. A stinging ache pulsed along the side of her hand. She tried to lift her arm, but failed.

  “Ainslee, can you hear me? It’s Levi and Dr. Thorenson. You injured your hand and the doctor has stitched it.”

  Her futile attempt to use the cutting blades now zigzagged through her hazy thoughts. Visions of her blood dripping across the tiles caused her to shiver.

  “Are you cold? Do you need a blanket?” Levi leaned closer, and his features gradually came into focus. “Is there a great deal of pain?”

  “I’m not cold, but my hand hurts.” She turned her head and opened her eyes wide. “Where am I?”

  “At the asylum. Both of the doctors in Weston were away from their offices, and there was no time to waste, so I brought you here. Dr. Thorenson was kind enough to care for you.”

  “Thank you, but I think I should go back to the boardinghouse.” Her thoughts still remained jumbled, but they had become clear enough for her to realize she didn’t want to spend the night in the asylum.

  Dr. Thorenson pulled a chair close to the bed. “You aren’t in any danger here, Miss McKay. This is a room in the administrative section of the asylum that is used when a staff member is injured or ill. The patients have no access to this portion of the building. There is a doctor on duty all night, and I think it would be wise for you to remain. You lost a great deal of blood.”

  Shifting on the asylum bed, she looked at Levi. “You said I only needed stitches. That isn’t serious. I’m fine. See?” She followed her question with an attempt to sit up, but dizziness overtook her and she fell back against the pillow.

  “The doctor’s right, Ainslee. You need to stay here, at least until tomorrow.” Concern tinged his voice.

  Had he called her Ainslee rather than Miss McKay? She remained a little fuzzy, but she was sure she’d heard him correctly. The thought warmed her heart. He may have a fiancée in Philadelphia, but there was nothing to prohibit them from becoming dear friends. “If you think it’s absolutely necessary, I’ll stay, but I believe I’d do well at home.”

  Relief shone in his eyes. “I think it’s best you remain in the asylum. Thank you for not arguing any further. Since you are here, maybe you could speak with Dr. Thorenson about a project for the ladies in the women’s wing.” Levi turned to look at the doctor. “Miss McKay was a teacher before she took over management of the tile works, and she misses her previous work. I suggested she might find a way to put her skills to use here at the asylum.”

  Dr. Thorenson cupped his chin between his thumb and index finger. “What a wonderful idea. Your art classes have proved helpful to the men, and I believe some of the women would enjoy that same opportunity.”

  Ainslee held up her bandaged hand, but a shooting pain caused her to immediately lower her arm. “No, you misunderstood Mr. Judson. I can’t teach art. While I might be able to sketch a tree or flower, my skill is teaching fundamental education.”

  Dr. Thorenson nodded. “Ah, like English, geography, arithmetic, and such. Have you ever worked with adult students, Miss McKay?” When she attempted to push herself higher in the bed, pain assailed her and she winced. The doctor wagged his finger. “You are in pain. I’m going to give you something to help you sleep. We will talk more in the morning, when you aren’t in as much pain.”

  Ainslee forced a weak smile. Something to relieve the pain and help her sleep was exactly what she needed. The doctor left the room with a promise he’d return with the medicine in short order.

  Levi moved close to her bedside. “I suppose I should go. I’ll likely be in trouble with both Miss Hanson and Mrs. Brighton since I’ve missed supper without giving proper notice.”

  “I didn’t realize it was so late.” She looked toward the window and glimpsed the evening shadows that now shaded the asylum grounds.

  Muddled remembrances of the accident suddenly flashed through her mind. She’d decided to take matters into her own hands and look at the result. Tears gathered in her eyes and she turned her head—she didn’t deserve pity from anyone, especially Levi. He’d told her it could be dangerous and using the equipment wouldn’t provide her with necessary knowledge to manage the business. He’d been right.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile. “Please tell Mrs. Brighton and Miss Hanson that I take full responsibility for your tardy arrival, and that I would count it a personal favor if they would forgive you and warm your supper.”

  Levi chuckled. “They may forgive me, but I don’t think I’ll find my plate in the warming oven.” He patted his stomach. “Missing one meal won’t hurt me. Besides, helping you was far more important than suffering the possible wrath of Mrs. Brighton or Miss Hanson.”

  “Thank you.” His kindness touched her. Not once had he scolded or berated her for her foolish behavior.

  The doctor returned with her medicine. She wrinkled her nose as she swallowed the bitter concoction. “I know it doesn’t taste good, but you’ll be grateful for the relief it will bring you.” He turned to Levi. “I’m glad you haven’t left for hom
e just yet. Shall I arrange for a carriage to return Miss McKay to the boardinghouse tomorrow?”

  Levi shook his head. “I can come by with a carriage after work.”

  The medicine was beginning to take effect, but Ainslee’s thoughts were still clear enough to offer a protest against remaining at the asylum all day. “I’d rather leave earlier.” The pleasure in Levi’s eyes was immediately replaced by a look of disappointment. “If it won’t disrupt your work too much, perhaps you could arrange to come by during your lunch break. Tell Robert that I’ve asked for your help. I should be well enough to return to the office, shouldn’t I, Doctor?”

  The doctor looked skeptical. “I would think so, but it might be good to go home and rest the remainder of the day. We can decide tomorrow.”

  Ainslee’s eyelids drooped, and she struggled to force them open. In the distance she heard someone tell her to sleep. She obliged.

  Chapter 12

  Ainslee slowly opened her eyes and blinked against the sunlight streaming through the window across the room. She lifted her right hand to shield her eyes from the sun. A dull ache reminded her of yesterday’s events, and she cringed as she recalled her foolishness.

  An asylum attendant wearing a crisp shirtwaist entered the room with a purposeful step. She balanced a breakfast tray in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. Her hair was twisted into a snug knot at the nape of her neck and was giving way to gray. Her lips formed a tight line, and deep creases etched the soft, fleshy skin around her eyes.

  She gave a cursory nod before setting the tray on a bedside table. “Good morning, Miss McKay. I have your breakfast and medical notes from Dr. Thorenson. He’ll be in to visit with you later this morning.”

  “Thank you.” Ainslee stretched her neck to see if the pin on the woman’s bodice would reveal her name, but it bore only the name of the institution. “Have you worked here long?”