The Artisan's Wife

by Judith Miller

  Levi was touched by their offer. Neither of them had been keen on the idea of the mosaics, and they hadn’t held back with their opinions. Robert, in particular, disliked change. He saw no reason to expand the products offered by the tile works, and had no desire to make or sell anything else. Harold had immediately agreed with Robert, but after listening to Ainslee, he had begrudgingly accepted the idea. Now to have them offer to learn a part of the process was something Levi had never imagined would occur.

  “Thank you both. I appreciate your willingness to help with the tiles, but I think we’ll have a couple of new fellows starting as apprentices in the next few days. I don’t want either of you to have to fall behind on your own orders. As far as going into town, I doubt Miss McKay would approve of you leaving the tile works during work, but if you continue keeping a watch if you go to the café at noontime or whenever you’re in town, I’d be thankful.”

  “Now that you mention lunch, I been meaning to mention that some of the diggers and a few of the packers have been grumbling that food’s been missing out of their lunch pails lately.” Robert nodded toward the outside of the building, where the diggers and packers were hard at work. “Same thing happened to me and Harold a couple of times, too. I’m thinking we should find another place where we can keep ’em in sight instead of down in the pit. Ain’t no need to put ’em down there now that the colder weather’s set in. We can use one of the packing boxes and sit it out under the overhang. That way, both the diggers and packers will have a good view of ’em. One of the packers is sure it’s one of the part-time diggers that’s been stealing from all of us. If it is him, he’s mighty careful, ’cause I ain’t never seen him go down in the pit. Harold and me always lower the pails on the dumbwaiter in the morning, Malcolm takes ’em off, and we use the same method to bring ’em back up at noon.”

  Levi scratched his head. He couldn’t say for sure if anything had been missing from his lunch pail or not. Mrs. Brighton packed his lunch most mornings, and he was never sure what he might find inside the metal container. However, now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been as much food as usual in his pail.

  “I think you have a good idea. Go ahead and tell the men to store their pails in a crate under the hanging eaves along this side of the wall. We’ll see if that solves the problem.”

  Ainslee stopped at the boardinghouses that the two recent applicants had listed as their addresses. Neither was home, so she left word with the keepers to have them return to the tile works tomorrow morning if they were still interested in employment. Both women had promised to pass along the messages and appeared relieved that their respective boarders might soon be gainfully employed.

  That task completed, she continued onward. The day was crisp and the bright sunshine provided more warmth than she’d anticipated. She now wished she’d foregone her heavy cloak. She was drawing near the Wilson Hardware and Mercantile when she heard someone call her name.

  “Over here.” Dr. Thorenson waved his hat in her direction.

  Ainslee turned and spotted him standing beside a horse and buggy outside the local bank. She waved in return. “Good afternoon.”

  “When did you return to Weston?”

  She stepped off the board walkway and approached the buggy. “Earlier today. I had some calls to make and then was going to the asylum.”

  “Then you must ride with me. How is Levi? I’ve been worried about him.” The doctor assisted Ainslee into the buggy. “I know he’s been terribly worried about Noah. I’ve assured him we are doing everything possible to locate him.”

  “Are you?” Ainslee settled in the seat beside him.

  The doctor’s brow furrowed. “Yes, of course. The entire staff feels a deep responsibility to find him.”

  She nodded. “As they should. I’m sure all of the families who entrust their loved ones into your care don’t expect them to go missing for days on end.” Ainslee peeked around the brim of her bonnet. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but Noah could be anywhere by now—he might even be injured or . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say what she was thinking.

  “Now, now, it serves no purpose to think the worst. Noah was doing well. There’s no reason to think he’s come to any harm. You need to remain positive—for Levi’s sake.” He spoke to her as if she were a child—or one of his patients. “We’re truly doing all we can to find Noah.”

  Ainslee gave him a sidelong glance. She didn’t want to sound like a woman bordering on hysteria, yet from what Levi had told her, the asylum wasn’t doing a great deal to locate his brother. “That’s why I was coming to visit this afternoon.”

  He looked at her as if she’d spoken in a foreign tongue.

  “I’d like to know all that’s been done to find Noah, and I want to speak to the orderlies who had been caring for him before he disappeared.”

  The doctor wagged his head. “We’ve already spoken to them, and they told us Noah had been doing fine. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred.”

  “I thought he told one of the orderlies he wasn’t feeling well, and he’d gone to his room without eating. Isn’t that considered unusual?”

  “Well, yes, but other than that, nothing happened.”

  Ainslee sighed as he helped her down from the buggy and escorted her down the walkway to the main entrance. “But that’s when he went missing—while he was supposed to be in his room. If he complained of illness, why wasn’t he checked by one of the doctors on duty that day?”

  “Patients saying they have a stomachache or aren’t hungry isn’t considered a reason for medical care unless it continues for more than a day or two, Miss McKay.” Side by side, they walked up the wide stairs to the front doors. “Please believe me, we give our patients the best of care. Unfortunately, because Noah was doing so well, the staff didn’t keep him under the same watchful eye as they did back when he wasn’t lucid.” Once inside, they stopped in the foyer. “Do you want me to summon the orderlies who were on duty? If you talk to them, will that ease some of your concern?”

  She nodded. “It won’t ease my concern regarding Noah’s current safety, but it will help me to understand more of what happened and might offer some clue as to where he might be.”

  He offered a somewhat patronizing smile. Did he think she was as irrational as some of his patients? “Would you like to wait in my office?”

  “No, thank you. If you’d send them to the library, I’d be most appreciative. While I wait, I’ll see how the ladies have been doing while I was gone. I suggested we merely catalog by author and title for the time being and the patients can sign books in and out on a sheet at the desk. I want to see if that’s been working for them or if we need a better system.”

  “I haven’t heard reports of any problems, but since you’d like to check, I’ll see if those orderlies are on duty.” He turned and rushed off as though he feared she’d ask another question about Noah’s disappearance.

  For a moment she stared after him, perplexed by his hurried and abrupt behavior. All of her encounters with Dr. Thorenson had been pleasant until now. She could only guess that the administration was more concerned over Noah’s disappearance than he’d indicated. Did they fear Levi would seek legal counsel? Perhaps that was it, though she doubted the thought had entered Levi’s mind—at least not yet.

  She reached for the brass doorknob and pulled open the heavy library door. Several ladies were seated with books, and Zana Tromley was sitting at the desk with a stack of books near her elbow. She looked up and smiled when Ainslee stepped inside.

  “Good to see you.” Ainslee kept her voice low, but two of the other patients glanced in her direction and waved. She returned the gesture and stepped to the desk. “Has the library been busy the past few days?”

  Zana pointed to the sheet and nodded. “Just look at all the books that have been signed out. The ladies are enjoying them a great deal. They’ve even been discussing the books they’re reading.”

  The encouraging news created a w
elcome lightness in Ainslee’s chest. “How wonderful. Perhaps we should gather periodically to discuss books. Do you think there are enough ladies who would be interested?”

  Zana twisted in her chair and gestured toward the divan positioned near the windows. “The lady over there in the burgundy dress is Gertrude Sachs. Gertie’s the one you should talk to about discussing books. She can read an entire book faster than anyone I ever saw, and then she recommends books to the other ladies—at least the ones she likes.”

  “Thank you, Zana. I’ll do that right now.” Ainslee crossed the room, and when the woman looked up, she introduced herself.

  The woman placed a finger between the pages of her book. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Ainslee McKay. I’m Gertrude Sachs. You can call me Gertie, and I’ll call you Ainslee.”

  Ainslee smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you, as well. I understand you’re a voracious reader and you make book recommendations to the other ladies.”

  She leaned closer. “I do. Many of them simply can’t make a decision. That’s what comes of being married. They’ve become so accustomed to their husbands telling them what they should say and do that they can’t even choose a book for themselves. ’Course, it’s those same husbands who signed them into this place when most of them are as sane as you and me.”

  Ainslee chuckled. She didn’t agree with Gertie’s assessment of all husbands, but she’d learned that it wasn’t good to be confrontational with patients. “Tell me, Gertie, since you’re not married, who signed you into the asylum?”

  Gertie removed a handkerchief from her pocket and used it as a bookmark before placing the book on a table beside the divan. She scooted back and folded her arms across her waist. “Truth is, it was my brother. He found out from the local banker that I had a tidy sum of money in an account, and he figured the easiest way to get it was to say I was a mental defective and bring me here. The law makes it easy as can be for men to keep putting us in places like this when they want to be rid of us. Once a judge says he can have the money in my bank account, he’ll probably come and sign me out of here. At least he said he would, but he’s not all that trustworthy.”

  “So it seems. I’m sorry you’re here under such circumstances. Can the doctors do nothing at all to help?”

  She snorted. “They follow whatever those judges tell them to do, but I’m content enough for now. This library is a blessing, for sure, and I like tending flowers when the weather’s nice and my rheumatism isn’t acting up.”

  Gertie greeted the idea of book discussions with enthusiasm and immediately agreed to take charge. The two of them had already exchanged several ideas when the library door opened and two orderlies entered—probably looking for her, and they didn’t seem too happy about being summoned.

  “Wonder what they’re doing here. None of them like to read. Probably looking for another patient that escaped.” She nudged Ainslee’s arm. “They still haven’t found the fella who took off the other day.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I want to ask some questions about the man who disappeared. He’s the brother of a close friend.”

  “Ask that tall, dark-haired orderly about the argument he had with that artist fella the day he ran off. I think that has something to do with why he disappeared.” She lowered her voice as the men approached. “I’ll talk to you more when they aren’t around.”

  Before the men reached the divan, Ainslee stood. “Why don’t we sit at that table over there? It will be quiet and we can talk without interruption.”

  The men didn’t answer, but they followed her to the table and sat down on opposite sides of her and introduced themselves. Because she wasn’t a relative or close friend of Noah’s, Ainslee had never been given a pass to visit on the men’s wing, so she didn’t know either of the men. When she began to question them, they crossed their arms and leaned back in their chairs as if to distance themselves.

  “We’ve already answered all of these questions before.” The shorter man’s lower lip protruded like that of a pouting child.

  The taller one agreed. “We’ve got work to do. Why don’t you read the report instead of forcing us to come in here and talk to you? I thought Noah’s only relative was his brother.” He curled his lip, and suspicion glistened in his dark eyes.

  She turned her full attention upon him. “I have both the doctor’s permission and Levi Judson’s permission to be here. What I’d like for you to tell me is not the same things you’ve been repeating to others. Instead, I’d like you to elaborate upon the argument you had here in the library with Noah the day he disappeared.” Ainslee forced herself not to blink as she pinned him with a hard stare.

  “Well, I . . . I’m . . . Who told you we argued?” Perspiration dotted the taller orderly’s upper lip.

  “Who told me doesn’t matter, but telling the truth does. Either tell me what happened, or I’m going to call Dr. Thorenson in here right now.”

  “Promise you won’t get me fired. I need this job. I have a family to feed.” Fear quickly replaced his earlier look of suspicion.

  Ainslee tapped her fingers atop the table. “You’re not in a position to bargain with me, but I guarantee you’ll feel like a weight’s been lifted off your chest if you tell the truth.”

  The shorter man nudged the dark-haired orderly. “Go ahead and tell her. She already knows you had an argument. Better to fess up now and not get in any deeper trouble.”

  Ainslee nodded. “Your friend is giving you good advice. You should listen to him.”

  He raked his hands through his dark hair until it formed peaks that looked like tall clumps of grass. “I found him here in the library and told him he had to come down to the dining room for the noon meal, but he wanted to finish drawing his picture. He said something about the light being perfect to finish the drawing and he didn’t want to eat.” He sucked in a deep breath. “We argued back and forth until he said he wasn’t feeling good and was going to his room.”

  “So did you leave him here in the library or take him to his room?” Ainslee studied the man’s worried eyes. “I’ll do whatever I can to keep you from being discharged, but I need the truth.”

  “I left him here, but he promised he’d go to his room in fifteen minutes.” The orderly fidgeted with the buttons on his jacket. “Can I go now?”

  “Yes, although Noah’s brother may have further questions for you after I pass along this information.”

  Ainslee turned and watched the two men depart. She’d not yet digested all the orderly had told her when Gertie strode to her side. “Noah was still in the library when everyone else left for the dining rooms, so you know what that means, don’t you?”

  Ainslee looked up at the older woman. “Not entirely. What do you think it means?”

  Gertie dropped into the chair where the orderly had been sitting only moments before. “It means there wouldn’t have been much of anyone in the hallways at that time. Instead of going off to the west-wing dining room, he could have exited through the front doors and out the gate just like he was a visitor. And we all know he’s as normal as you and me.” Her lips drooped into a frown. “Why is he in here?”

  Ainslee stiffened and leaned back in her chair. “Noah isn’t always lucid, Gertie.” Though it somehow seemed improper to discuss his condition with a woman whom she barely knew—and a patient, at that—Ainslee nonetheless sought to defend Levi. She wanted Gertie to understand that Levi’s decision was made out of love and concern, not because he wanted to rid himself of Noah, as her brother had done to her.

  Gertie’s lips curved in a gentle smile. “You don’t need to be defensive, my dear. I believe my question was quite valid, given the fact that Noah is such a talented young man who was always in control of his behavior in my presence.” Gertie pushed up from her chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to give further thought to the book we’re going to discuss.” Her brow furrowed. “You do want me to continue with the idea, don’t you?”

  “What?” With all the talk of N
oah, Ainslee had momentarily forgotten her earlier request. “Yes, of course. Please go ahead and choose a book, and I’ll be in touch with you.” Ainslee had no desire to argue with the woman. In truth, she simply wanted some time to digest what she’d learned from the two orderlies. While it didn’t give her as much as she’d hoped for, at least she could tell Levi there appeared to be a sound reason why Noah had disappeared. Above all else, he wanted to draw. But where? That was the question. Since Levi was in Weston, she didn’t think Noah would leave. Besides, how far could he go without money? Yet how was Noah sustaining himself—and where was he hiding?

  Chapter 27

  Levi strode across the courtyard and into the mixing room of the tile works. Harold waved him forward and held out a sketching pencil. “Found this down in the drying pit and figured it must be yours.” He grinned at Levi. “You going down there to do your drawings nowadays?”

  Levi turned the pencil between his fingers and shook his head. “This isn’t mine. It’s from a set of drawing pencils I gave Noah when he began working on his sketches.” His thoughts jumbled together like a cat with a basket of yarn. Had Noah discovered a way to enter the tile works at night, and had he been sleeping in the drying pit, where he would be warm and hidden from anyone who might return later in the evening? While it was possible, Levi was sure the doors were locked every night to prevent such a happenstance.

  A short time later, he returned to the office while still pondering just how the pencil had gotten into the drying pit. He’d barely cleared the door when Ainslee rushed toward him. “I just returned from the asylum and I have news.”

  Levi dropped the pencil onto the desk. “They’ve found Noah?”

  She shook her head. “No, I wish I could tell you they had, but I did discover the orderlies didn’t tell the whole truth.”

  They sat down in the chairs near the desk, and Ainslee detailed all she’d learned during her time at the asylum. “While we still don’t know Noah’s whereabouts, I think this may indicate that he left the asylum because he wanted to continue drawing and they wanted him to participate in other activities. I don’t think he’d had a relapse of any sort. Rather, I believe he was quite lucid and wanted to make his own decisions about what he could do. That’s encouraging, don’t you think?”