The Brickmaker's Bride Read online

  “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. McKay and his advice. The entire visit seems so odd, doesn’t it? I don’t discount that he appeared sincere in his desire to be fair, but going behind his uncle’s back doesn’t seem right. I wonder if it’s some sort of plan they’ve concocted between themselves.”

  “I think you’re misjudging Mr. McKay, though his advice was a bit odd. Winston will be upset that I’m not taking his advice, but I’ve decided that if the Lord wants us to sell to Mr. Crothers, we’ll receive some sort of sign. Something that will give me a feeling of certainty before I agree to sell.” Her mother picked up a small china pitcher and poured cream into her coffee. “This won’t be the first time Winston and I have disagreed. He’s a good lawyer, but a bit too pushy. If you decide he’s the man you want to marry, make certain you don’t let him control you overmuch.”

  For most of her life, Laura’s mother had been easily swayed—especially by men. She had always bowed to her husband’s decisions. That’s what society expected. Women weren’t considered bright enough to understand business or politics, and if they had an opinion regarding such matters, they were expected to keep it to themselves.

  Mrs. Woodfield had held fast to those rules until the war. When her husband marched off to battle, she’d been forced to take charge. The change had proved difficult, and Laura had encouraged her mother and praised each decision. As time passed, her mother fully embraced her new role, and it appeared she wasn’t prepared to relinquish her decisions to anyone except the Lord.

  There was a touch of irony in her mother’s cautionary remark. “We’re not yet engaged, so I don’t think you need to worry about marriage any time in the near future.”

  Mrs. Woodfield arched her brows. “I believe Winston has already made up his mind that you’re the woman he wants at his side. No doubt you can expect a marriage proposal very soon. You offer what he wants in a wife.”

  “And what is that, Mother?” She arched her brows. Had Winston already expressed his desire to propose? Had he spoken to her mother?

  “You’d be the perfect wife to aid him in his political ambitions. You possess the poise and charm to connect with voters. And since he doesn’t want—”

  Laura held up one hand. “Let’s not discuss this now, Mother. I fear my headache will worsen, and I’m expected at the orphanage this morning.”

  “I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to rattle on.” Her mother finished her eggs and took a final sip of coffee. “It’s a beautiful morning. I thought we might sit on the porch. The fresh air might help your headache, and I could use your assistance. Our Ladies of the Union group has decided we should begin meeting again. We’ve met only a few times since the end of the war, and we’d like to resume regular meetings so we can serve some charitable needs in the area.”

  Laura followed her mother to the front porch. “I do believe it’s time for a new name, as well.”

  Her mother lowered herself into one of the cushioned willow chairs. “Perhaps, but I don’t believe you can fault us too much. There are several Southern states that haven’t yet been readmitted to the Union. You’ll recall that our neighbor, Virginia, is among those states.”

  “Of course I do, Mother, but you don’t need to wait until every state is readmitted before you change the name of your organization. Since the club was initially organized to make quilts and knit socks for the soldiers, perhaps now you could turn your attention to the needs of those soldiers’ widows who remain in the area. I’m sure there are many who continue to struggle. If the ladies need any further ideas, you can let them know that assistance is always needed at the orphanage.”

  “I know helping the orphans gives you both solace and pleasure, dear, but most of the ladies in our group don’t possess the physical stamina necessary for such work.”

  Laura didn’t miss the pity that shone in her mother’s eyes as she reached forward to pat Laura’s hand. “There are many things they could do that wouldn’t require physical strength. I doubt it would tax the ladies to read a book to the children.”

  “That’s true enough, but the noise and activity at the orphanage would surely prove too much for us. The younger ladies should fill that void.” Her lips curved in a weak smile. “Besides, I think our organization is seeking fund-raising and sewing projects rather than volunteer work. Enid Matheson thought we should start a movement to raise money for a new state capitol building. She says that renting the Linsly School is demeaning and we need a beautiful structure that will rival those of other states.”

  “And what do you think about Enid’s suggestion?” Laura turned her rocking chair away from the sun before sitting down. “Are you interested in organizing fund-raisers for our lawmakers?”

  “Enid isn’t fooling me. Her husband, Hubert, hopes to win a seat in the legislature, and she’ll do anything or use anyone to make sure it happens, including our Ladies of the Union group.” Her mother sniffed. “I find her behavior shameful.”

  “Now, Mother, you ought not jump to conclusions. I’ve heard others say that construction of a new capitol building would not only help beautify Wheeling, but would also provide work for men in need of employment.”

  “Pshaw. That’s a lot of political puffery, if you ask me. Just take a look around Bartlett and note the lack of able-bodied men. Our men who didn’t die in the war came home injured. Most of them can’t perform the jobs they had before the war.”

  “That may be a bit of an exaggeration, Mother, but I do understand your point. I think if you present your concerns with some actual facts and figures, the ladies will rally behind you rather than Enid.” Giving a slight push with her foot, Laura set the rocking chair into motion. “Perhaps Winston could help gather some figures for you.”

  “I suppose, but I may be capable of doing that myself. I can go into town and speak with folks on my own. I’m sure the mayor can help.”

  Laura shaded her eyes and gazed toward the road. “Yes, but isn’t the mayor a friend of Hubert Matheson?”

  “That’s true. He’s probably not a good choice.” Her mother twisted in her chair. “Someone’s coming. It’s early for a caller. I hope there isn’t some sort of trouble.”

  “I think it’s Winston.” Laura squinted and stared for a moment longer. “Yes, it’s him. I wonder what brings him out our way.”

  Mrs. Woodfield rose and stepped to the porch railing. “He must have news regarding the brickyard. No proper gentleman would call this early in the day unless it was a matter of importance.”

  Laura couldn’t disagree with her mother’s assessment. Winston was a proper gentleman. Wearing his tan cutaway tailcoat and tall black riding books of polished leather, he made a striking appearance. Up close, Winston wasn’t the most attractive man she’d ever met, but he possessed a debonair charm that proved difficult to resist.

  “Good morning, ladies. A fine morning for a ride, wouldn’t you say?” Winston dismounted and tied the horse’s reins to the cast-iron hitching post. “I do apologize for the early morning visit, but I believe you’ll forgive me when you see what I have.” He reached inside his breast pocket and withdrew a folded paper. Waving it toward them, he climbed the porch steps. “This, ladies, is a contract of sale for Woodfield Brickworks.”

  Clasping a hand to her bodice, Mrs. Woodfield lowered herself into the wicker chair. “So soon?” Her surprise was quickly replaced by a desire for information. “At what price? Did you bargain with them and lower the price without gaining my permission, Winston? If you did, I won’t sign those papers.”

  “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll explain.” He nodded toward the door. “Shall we go inside, where you can more closely examine the contract?”

  Laura leaned close to her mother’s ear. “Looks as if the Lord has given you that sign you asked for.”

  “We’ll see. I haven’t read the contract,” her mother said.

  The three of them gathered in the parlor, and once they were seated,
Winston detailed the terms of the contract. When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Everything you asked for, Mrs. Woodfield. Mr. Crothers met your price and wishes to take possession as soon as possible.”

  “Just what was it that convinced him, Winston? When you left here yesterday, I didn’t believe he would meet my price. Something must have happened. Is there something in the contract you’re not telling me?”

  “Of course not. I’m your lawyer, Mrs. Woodfield. It’s my duty to protect your interests. While I’d like to tell you it was my negotiating skill that convinced Mr. Crothers, that wouldn’t be true. I believe his nephew is the one who convinced him that they would lose a year of production if they’d waited much longer. Mr. McKay wants to take possession so they can begin digging clay.”

  Mrs. Woodfield extended her hand. “Let me read the contract.” When Winston didn’t immediately hand it to her, she waved her hand. “You don’t expect me to sign without reading it, do you?”

  Laura grinned. “You might as well give it to her. Arguing will only prolong things.”

  After a firm nod, he handed the papers to her mother. Arms folded across his chest, his gaze shifted between the clock and Laura’s mother.

  When she had turned to the last page, he leaned forward. “Ready to sign?”

  “I believe I am. Before giving them the deed to the land and bill of sale for the equipment, make certain they’ve paid the full amount. Have them count it out in front of you. I don’t want to be cheated.”

  “Rest assured that I will require payment in full from Mr. Crothers and I’ll immediately deposit the payment into your account at the bank. I do hope you know that you can trust me to protect your interests, Mrs. Woodfield.”

  “He’s right, isn’t he, Laura? If we can’t trust Winston, who can we trust?” Rising from her chair, Laura’s mother crossed the room and sat down at the hand-carved maple writing desk. She dipped her pen into the ink, signed her name, and blotted her signature before handing the document back to Winston. “Thank you for your assistance, Winston. And do tell Mr. Crothers and Mr. McKay that if they have any questions regarding the books and paper work at the brickyard, Laura will do whatever she can to assist them.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be capable of handling matters, but I’ll pass along your offer.” He smiled at Laura. “Don’t feel any obligation, Laura. Irishmen can be a rough lot, especially when they’re drinking. Once they take possession, any problems belong to them. I don’t want you mingling with them, and there’s no need for you to go near the brickyard.”

  Winston’s cautionary command surprised her. Although he’d escorted her to several social gatherings, he obviously didn’t know her as well as he believed. If so, he would have withheld his attempt to keep her from the brickyard. “Irish or not, I have no worries about Mr. Crothers and Mr. McKay.” She offered him a bright smile. “I appreciate your concern, but I am confident they are honorable men.”

  “Of course they are. We’re going to be pleased to have them as our neighbors.” Mrs. Woodfield reached across the table and patted Winston’s hand. “Would you care for a cup of coffee to celebrate? I have a few questions about our Ladies of the Union group. Laura thought you might be able to furnish me with some information.”

  Winston folded the documents and returned them to his inner pocket. “Mr. Crothers and Mr. McKay are anxiously awaiting my return. Perhaps I can come back and discuss your questions later in the week.”

  “Of course. It’s not urgent.” Mrs. Woodfield grasped Winston’s arm and walked him to the front door.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. McKay were out at the brickyard digging clay before noon. The man is impatient to begin work.”

  “That kind of determination would certainly win my admiration. My husband had that same type of resolve. That’s what made his brickyard a success. I hope it will do the same for Mr. Crothers and Mr. McKay.” She stepped onto the front porch and smiled up at Winston. “I’m sure you feel the same way.”

  Winston muttered an inaudible reply before mounting his horse. “Good day, ladies.”

  Laura followed her mother inside. “I’m sorry to rush off, Mother, but Zeke will be bringing the buggy around for me any minute now.” She picked up her gloves from the table and started tugging them on. “If I don’t hurry I’ll be late to the orphanage, and Mrs. Tremble will think I’ve forgotten I’m scheduled to help this morning.”

  Her mother sighed. “I wouldn’t want you to be late. I suppose I can sit on the porch and finish my morning coffee by myself.”

  Laura chuckled and patted her mother’s shoulder. “Now, don’t be acting so gloomy. I’ll be home in time for the noonday meal. I promised the children we’d do something special today, and I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  “I know the youngsters at the orphanage look forward to your time with them, but I believe the visits are even more important to you.” A look of concern clouded her mother’s eyes. “Be careful with your affections, my dear. Becoming overly attached can only lead to heartache.”

  Laura leaned forward and brushed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Please don’t worry about me, Mother. I’m merely doing what you’ve taught me: helping those in need.” Laura assumed a carefree air as she took up her reticule and strode toward the door.

  Mrs. Woodfield followed close on her heels. “I hope Mrs. Tremble hasn’t convinced you to take over her position when she retires. I know she thinks you’d be the perfect replacement. Volunteering to help with the children is one thing, but taking over as the administrator of the orphanage is quite another. You’re a young woman who needs to be looking toward marriage and—”

  “I really must be on my way, Mother. Your worries are completely unfounded.”

  Laura hurried out the door and down the front steps, thankful Zeke was waiting with the buggy. Though her mother meant well, Laura didn’t need to be cautioned every time she departed for the Bartlett Orphanage. With her bag of supplies tucked beside her, she flicked the reins. Rather than the toddlers, she’d be helping with the older children today, and she hoped they would enjoy what she had planned for them.

  Though the bleak wooden structure was a depressing sight, Laura’s spirits soared when she entered the building. The interior wasn’t lovely, but Mrs. Tremble had done her best to enlist help painting the walls, and she’d hung colorful curtains at the windows in an effort to create a homelike setting. But it was the children who created the genuine joy in this place. In spite of all they’d suffered in the past, most of these children remained happy and carefree.

  Eddie Logan barreled toward her the minute she crossed the threshold. “What did you bring for us to do today, Miss Woodfield?” His pug nose and cheeks were layered with freckles that made him the brunt of occasional teasing, but he’d learned to ignore the remarks—most of the time. On occasion young Eddie would raise his fists in warning, but thus far he’d refrained from striking anyone. He pointed to the bag. “Do you have something special in there?”

  She bent close to his ear. “I do. But let’s wait until all of the children have gathered, so I can tell all of you at once. Why don’t you tell the group I’ve arrived?”

  A flash of disappointment crossed his face before he mumbled his consent and called the other children to the room designated for them.

  While they took their places around the table, Laura withdrew drawing supplies, string, and paperboard from her bag. “Today we’re going to make thaumatropes. Does anyone know what a thaumatrope is?”

  The children shook their heads as they eyed the supplies Laura had placed on the table.

  “I don’t think this sounds like fun. You promised you’d bring something we’d like.” Lucy Wilson folded her arms in a defiant gesture.

  Once more, Laura reached into her bag. This time she withdrew a thaumatrope she’d made to demonstrate to the children. “Look at the picture on each side of the cardboard disc.” Laura showed them the picture of a bird on on
e side and then turned it over to reveal a birdcage on the other. A piece of string had been drawn through the small holes on each side of the disc. The children looked on as Laura tightly wound the circle disc and then released the circle. Their eyes grew wide as they watched the disc spin.

  “It looks like the bird is inside the cage.” Lucy pointed at the flying disc. “I want to do that. Can I, Miss Woodfield? Can I?”

  “You may each give it a try, but then you’re going to make your own.”

  Jumping up and down, they looked at each other with wide-eyed excitement, clapped their hands, and shrieked their enthusiasm.

  Laura touched her pursed lips with her index finger. “Shh. I’m pleased you’re happy, but we don’t want to disturb the other class.” The children circled around her. “You can decide on your pictures and then draw them on the cardboard discs. When you’ve finished, we’ll poke holes in the cardboard and insert the string.”

  Lucy curled her lip. “I don’t know what to draw. The older kids can draw better than me.”

  Laura pulled her chair to an empty spot beside Lucy. “Then let’s think of something that isn’t so difficult. What about drawing a spider on one side and a web on the other? I think you could do that very well, don’t you?”

  Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “It won’t be as good as your bird.”

  “It will be wonderful. When you spin the disc, it will look like your spider is in its web.” Laura handed her a disc. “You’ll see. You’re going to do a wonderful job.”

  As the children worked on their projects, Laura circled the table, offering help and a dose of affection where needed. The boys were slow to reveal any desire for love, but they beamed when she offered words of praise or when she gave them an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

  She leaned over Kenneth’s shoulder to look at his drawings. On one side he’d drawn a horse’s head. On the other side he’d drawn a stall. “I think the horse will look like he’s in the stall when the disc flies around, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes, Kenneth. I believe your design will work very well. That’s a fine horse you’ve drawn. Let’s make holes on either side and insert the string so you can try it.”