The Artisan's Wife

by Judith Miller

  Ainslee often wondered if Kathleen’s low opinion of herself was what had caused her to give in to the desires of Terrance O’Grady and bear his child. For sure, Ewan, Laura, and the rest of the family had been thankful Kathleen had given birth to Tessa and also had permitted them to adopt her. All except Aunt Margaret, who still avowed she’d been excluded from many social circles because of Kathleen’s illicit affair. Never once had Aunt Margaret viewed her own callous behavior as the primary reason she’d become an outcast. And though Tessa was now six years old, the chasm within the family created by Tessa’s birth and adoption still remained. Ainslee prayed that one day the family wounds would heal: both regarding Tessa’s adoption and Margaret’s deceitful takeover of the brickworks.

  “Ainslee!” Laura pulled her into a hug. “You look wonderful. I’m so eager for a long visit with you.”

  Tessa hopped from foot to foot. “And I want to go to the stores and see what kind of candy they have. Mama said we could go and shop while we’re here, didn’t you?”

  “I did, but I didn’t mean we would go the minute we stepped off the train. First we need to go to the hotel and get settled, and by then it will be time for supper. We may need to save our shopping for tomorrow.”

  “Aye, or even the next day.” Ewan playfully tapped his daughter beneath the chin. “Once your bags arrive at the hotel, I’m going to return to the tile works. I have work to complete and Ainslee can give you all the exciting details.” He gestured toward the door of the train station. “The carriage is outside and I’ll see to having your trunks delivered.”

  Laura extended her arms. “Am I going to receive a kiss before you rush off for the baggage?”

  Ewan slapped his hand to his forehead. “I’m sorry, my love. There are a thousand details dancing about in my head, but that’s no excuse for letting my wife arrive without a proper welcome.” He pulled Laura into a warm embrace, then lowered his head to kiss her lips.

  “Ewww.” Tessa grasped the tip of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and looked at Ainslee. “They like to kiss too much.”

  Ainslee grinned. “I know it’s difficult to believe, but one day you won’t think kissing is terrible.”

  The little girl’s mouth gaped open. “Do you like to kiss boys, Ainslee?”

  Ewan and Laura both turned to face Ainslee. When she didn’t immediately respond, Ewan hiked an eyebrow. “Well, do you like to kiss boys, little sister?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never kissed a boy, but when the right man comes along, I’m sure I’ll enjoy kissing him very much.” There! She hoped that would put a stop to questions about kissing and boys.

  “Excellent answer, Ainslee.” Laura chuckled as they walked to the carriage.

  During the short ride from the depot to the hotel, Tessa peppered Ainslee with questions. When they passed one of the mercantiles, she was quick to mention the store likely had a nice display of candy inside.

  “Your mother said no shopping today, but if your sweet tooth is getting the best of you, I’m sure there’s a piece of cake or a slice of pie to be had in the hotel dining room,” Ewan said.

  “Ewan!” Laura frowned at her husband. “She’ll ruin her supper if she eats pie or cake at this time of day.”

  “Nay. She’ll clean her plate ’til it shines like Grandmother Woodfield’s silver, won’t ya, Tessa?”

  The little girl’s blond curls bounced when she bobbed her head. “I promise.”

  The carriage came to a halt, Ewan helped them down, and as they walked up to their rooms, Laura once again chided him for his lenient ways with their daughter.

  “You and Ainslee will be wantin’ a cup of tea and a chat,” he said as he opened the room door. “The cake will keep Tessa busy—and quiet. You’ll thank me later.”

  After Ewan departed, the three of them returned downstairs to the dining room, where Tessa was served a thick slice of vanilla cake with cream filling and a glass of milk before the waiter delivered a pot of tea and plate of delicate cookies.

  From Ewan’s telegram, Laura knew something exciting was afoot at the tile works, but she was eager for all the details. Her excitement over the mosaics pleased Ainslee. “I can’t wait for you to see them and meet Levi. He’s extremely artistic and kind.” Ainslee removed her gloves and placed them on her lap before reaching for a cookie.

  “What’s that?” Tessa wrinkled her nose and squinted her eyes as she pointed to Ainslee’s scar.

  Laura clasped a hand to her bodice. “Ainslee! What happened?” She reached for Ainslee’s hand and gently traced her finger across the scar.

  The accident wasn’t what she’d hoped to discuss right now, but Laura’s questions deserved an answer. She withheld the gruesome details and focused upon Dr. Thorenson and his excellent care. Instead of bringing the topic to a rapid close, mention of the asylum opened the door to even more inquiries.

  When she’d finally satisfied their questions, Ainslee refilled her teacup. “I’m helping with a project in the ladies’ wing of the asylum, so I was pleased when Ewan said you were coming for a visit. I was going to write to you and Grandmother Woodfield, but it will be much easier to explain my idea in person. I’m hoping you’ll both help.”

  Laura wrapped her arms tight around her waist and leaned away—as if she longed to distance herself from talk of the asylum. “I don’t know if I’m called to help in such a place. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could. Besides, we’ll be here only a few days.”

  Ainslee inched forward on her chair and quickly spoke of the library she’d been planning for the ladies. “What I need is books. I thought some of the ladies at home might donate books or have a charity event to raise money to help purchase books for the library.”

  Laura’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded her head. “A library for the ladies is an excellent goal, and I’m sure Mother and I can rally support, but do promise me you’ll be careful going inside that place.”

  “I will, but there’s nothing to fear.” For several minutes, Ainslee attempted to ease Laura’s concerns, but she met with little success. Rather than belabor the subject, she thanked Laura for her willingness to help furnish books and seek help from friends in Grafton and Bartlett. “Once you’ve collected books, they can be crated and shipped by train. I’ll reimburse you for the costs.”

  Laura’s smile was warm yet guarded. “I believe we’ll be able to raise enough money to pay the shipping charges. If not, you can be certain we’ll get the books sent to you. I think your project is noble, and I think you’re brave to take on such a task.” Laura shifted in her chair. “I’ve been wondering about you and Adaira. Have the two of you been corresponding?”

  “I recently answered the letter Adaira sent me. She apologized for leaving me in the lurch.” Ainslee laughed. “Well, those weren’t her exact words.” She shook her head. “I tried on numerous occasions to write and offer my forgiveness, but each time I ended up tossing a half-finished letter. My responses always sounded stilted and insincere.”

  “And were they?” Laura sipped the remains of her tea.

  “Yes. I’m afraid so. But when I was finally able to complete my letter to her, it was written with genuine forgiveness. Once I decided to accept my new position as a challenge rather than a duty, my resentment began to fade. Of course, the possibility of producing the new tiles has bolstered my enthusiasm, and the prospect of doing something to cheer the ladies at the asylum has given me particular joy.” Ainslee smiled hesitantly. “I’ve discovered forgiveness is freeing.”

  Laura leaned closer. “And does Levi Judson play any part in this newfound enthusiasm and joy you’ve discovered?”

  Ainslee could feel the heat crawling up her neck and spreading across her cheeks. “Perhaps a little. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”

  Laura smiled. “There’s nothing like a new beau to help us leave the past behind. I do believe you are smitten, my dear. I’m especially pleased for you.”

  There was no use denyi
ng Laura’s assessment. In truth, Ainslee was more than smitten—she was in love. She merely hadn’t admitted it to herself before this moment.

  Levi attended church with Ainslee and her family on Sunday morning and then joined them for dinner at the hotel. Soon after they’d completed the meal, he thanked them and excused himself. He was certain all but Ainslee thought he was going home or to the tile works to complete further sketches, but he’d promised Noah he would return on Sunday for his regular visit. He’d not completed as many of the drawings as he’d hoped, but Noah remained his priority.

  After entering the heavy iron outer gate, he strode down the path leading to the men’s wing. The fog that draped the mountains in sheer gossamer on most mornings had disappeared hours ago, and several small clusters of men sat outdoors, seemingly enjoying the warm weather. One or two were busy hoeing a vegetable plot, likely unaware they were working on a day of rest. Orderlies had joined some of the patients in a game of croquet, while others wandered around the grassy fenced area in the side courtyard.

  Levi spotted his brother sitting on the grass near a small group of men. Sketchpad in hand, Noah looked up and jumped to his feet when Levi approached. He waved the drawing pad overhead, and when Levi drew close, his brother shoved the book at him. “I’ve been drawing instead of painting.” Noah beamed at Levi.

  “If you would rather sketch, that’s fine.” The comment from his brother surprised Levi. Given a preference, Noah had always preferred a paintbrush over charcoal pencils. “Let me see what you’re drawing.”

  Noah presented the sketchbook to Levi once he’d settled on the ground. “I want to know what you think of my sketches. You can be honest with me. I’m feeling myself today. I’ve been feeling good ever since your last visit when you told me about the tiles you’re going to make for that museum.”

  “Hopefully make. We don’t have the contract yet. If Mr. Harrington is a man who makes quick decisions, we should know on Wednesday, but if he likes to give matters a lot of thought, we may not know for some time.”

  Levi’s breath caught when he turned to the first page and viewed the delicate drawing of a Catawba rhododendron. Page after page revealed sketches of flowers, trees, and birds. A sugar maple, a fire pink, an ox-eyed daisy, a proud cardinal with its beak turned toward heaven, a downy woodpecker, and a short-eared owl, all sketched with beauty and precision, all representative of West Virginia.

  “They’re beautiful, Noah. Truly beautiful. You should paint these. The colors would be magnificent.”

  His brother frowned and reached for the sketchbook. “I didn’t sketch these so I could paint them. I drew them for you—to show to Mr. Harrington.” He clutched the book close to his chest. “I thought you wanted to portray a few of the flowers and birds of West Virginia on some of your ceramic tiles.”

  “I do. Your idea . . .”

  “You don’t need to lie in order to protect me, Levi. I’m not going to fly into a rage. I’m perfectly sane right now.” Anger knotted Noah’s face. “Sane enough to know that if you truly liked my idea, you would have known these sketches were for you.”

  The heated response pulsed in Levi’s ears. He didn’t want to say or do anything that would cause Noah to recede into his protective shell, yet Levi was never certain what words or deeds would have an ill effect upon his brother. Neither Levi nor the many doctors who had treated Noah were ever certain what or how much he understood. Truth be told, there were times when Levi found his brother’s phases of normalcy even more overwhelming than his extended periods of irrationality.

  “Please listen to what I have to say, Noah. You are my brother, and I love you. I would never say or do anything to deliberately hurt you. When I visited a few days ago and told you I liked your idea about using birds and flowers, it was the truth. Because of your suggestion, I sketched a hummingbird and mountain laurel, as part of my collection for Mr. Harrington. Your drawings are beautiful, but I would never assume they were meant for me to use in my set of drawings.”

  Noah’s features softened. “Can I look at your sketches? Could you bring them before your meeting?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I know my drawings are too detailed to be used as templates, but I could simplify them for you. Are you presenting detailed sketches or line drawings to Mr. Harrington?”

  “I’m going to present both to him. I start by making a more detailed sketch, although not as beautiful as these.” Levi smiled and tapped the sketchbook in his brother’s arms. “Then I create line drawings that will more closely reflect what would be used as a template. I think it will give him a better idea of the product he’ll receive. I’m glad I have some of the tiles I made in Philadelphia as well as my original drawings so that he can see the changes that occur. I wouldn’t want him to agree to the project and then disapprove or be disappointed with my work.” He blew out a long breath. “That wouldn’t reflect well upon me or the McKay Tile Works.”

  Noah traced his fingers over the cardboard cover of the sketchbook. “You never answered my questions. Will you have time to come back before your meeting?”

  Levi wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “I will make time to be here. Nothing is more important to me than you, Noah. You know that, don’t you?”

  Noah tipped his head to the side. “I know. You’re a good brother.”

  The bell in the central clock tower bonged four times, and Levi pushed to his feet. “Do you want me to take your sketches with me, Noah?”

  His brother shook his head. “No, but I’m glad you like them.” He stood and walked alongside Levi to the edge of the grassy courtyard. “You promise you’ll be back before your meeting?”

  Levi squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “I promise, Noah.”

  A cloak of disappointment wrapped around Levi as he trudged toward the gate. Perhaps he’d misunderstood Noah. Or maybe Noah no longer wished to turn over the drawings because Levi hadn’t initially realized they were for him. He shuddered at the thought of causing Noah any pain. Those drawings were flawless, and each one would have made a beautiful tile. He pushed the thought from his mind and turned to offer his brother a final wave before he disappeared out of sight.

  Chapter 18

  Levi momentarily turned his gaze toward the white clouds drifting overhead in a pale blue sky. The sun warmed his back as he entered the gates of the asylum. He’d need to hurry or he wouldn’t be back to the tile works when Ewan and Mr. Harrington returned from the train depot. He’d hoped to make his promised visit to Noah this morning, but there had been so many details that required his attention, and he’d been unable to depart until after the noonday break.

  With a folder of sketches tucked beneath his arm, Levi raced up the steps leading into the west wing, yanked off his cap, and entered the wide doors. Taking long strides, he continued down the hallway and glanced into the dayroom as he neared the door. Catching sight of Noah pacing at the far end of the room, Levi came to an abrupt halt.

  Hoping to gain Noah’s attention, he waved the folder overhead, but to no avail. When he drew close, he touched his brother’s arm. “I’m sorry I’m late, Noah.”

  Levi’s shoulders slumped when he was met by Noah’s glassy-eyed stare. He had prayed his brother would remain lucid forever—that these drawings would keep his mind keen and provide a way out of the tragic maze that seemed to beset Noah at every turn. For a moment, he considered an immediate return to the tile works. Noah likely wouldn’t even remember whether he’d kept his word, yet he had promised his brother he’d bring his sketches.

  With a gentle grasp of Noah’s elbow, Levi led him to a far table. “Let’s sit down and I’ll show you my drawings.” Noah plodded alongside him, and when Levi gestured for him to sit down, he dropped into the chair. “Do you remember I was drawing sketches for ceramic tiles, Noah? Mr. Harrington is coming from Wheeling to see if he wants to use them in a new museum.” He leaned around his brother in an attempt to gain eye contact, but Noah stared out the window, his gaze fixed upon
the horizon.

  Levi sighed and opened his sketchbook. Before he departed, he’d at least spread the pictures on the table. He’d promised to let Noah see them, and he would keep his promise. Once he’d arranged the pictures, he tapped the table.

  Noah turned away from the window and looked toward the drumming sound. For several moments he appeared transfixed, but slowly he reached forward and picked up one of the sketches. One by one, he examined the detailed sketches and then the line drawings.

  When he finally returned the final line drawing to the table, he looked at Levi. The glassy-eyed stare had been replaced with a look of clarity. “They’re wonderful, Levi. Mr. Harrington will be impressed. I’m sure you’ll get the contract.”

  “Thank you, Noah. If it’s God’s plan for me, I’m sure the drawings will be well-received and we can begin work on the tiles.”

  “Do you have time to come to my room before you leave?” Noah pushed away from the table. “I won’t keep you long.”

  The visit had already taken more time than Levi had planned. Noah’s examination of the pictures had been painstakingly slow. And though he wouldn’t deny Noah’s request, Levi feared he would be late for the meeting. Not the way he had hoped to begin his relationship with Mr. Harrington. The two brothers walked side by side down the hallway and made a left turn down another hallway until they arrived at Noah’s room.

  Noah hurried to the heavy wooden dresser and withdrew his sketchbook from the bottom drawer. “Take a look at these and see if you can use them.”