The Brickmaker's Bride Read Online Free PDF Page A

racetrack whenever I turned my back.”
    Hugh patted the pocket of his wool jacket. “You best remember that I wouldn’t be sitting here with money if it weren’t for my winnings at the racetrack.” Hugh motioned to the waitress and lifted his coffee cup.
    Ewan and Kathleen were forced to listen as the couple resumed their ongoing quarrel. While Ewan sympathized with the horrors his aunt had experienced during her lifetime, many other people had gone through worse and hadn’t become greedy and demanding. Yet he couldn’t deny that Uncle Hugh’s behavior would be enough to set any woman on edge.
    Aunt Margaret’s childhood deprivations had formed her into a covetous, selfish adult, and Uncle Hugh’s gambling had reinforced her fears and stinginess. She constantly harped about his gambling, but it hadn’t stopped him. Instead, he was willing to take the tongue-lashings and abide her greedy nature because he’d come to believe it justified his own behavior. Unfortunately, their abhorrent conduct spread like a contagion and contaminated most folks who crossed their path.
    “I thought it was Ewan you had a quarrel with, but it seems you’d rather hash over the past with me.”
    Ewan cast a glance across the table. Though his uncle was eager to deflect his wife’s ire, Ewan didn’t miss the glimmer of fear lurking in the older man’s eyes. Did he worry Ewan would give away his secret, or was it only this morning’s meeting at the brickyard that caused him concern?
    Margaret waited until after the waitress had refilled her husband’s cup and stepped away from the table. “I was talking to Ewan before the conversation took an unexpected turn.”
    “Aye. A turn that went down a mighty crooked path. As if you planned it that way. Eh, Ewan?” Hugh cocked his left eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.
    “I planned nothing, Uncle. I do not think Aunt Margaret will forget to ask me whatever it is she wants to know about this morning’s dealings.”
    The aroma of roasted pork filled the air as the waitress set their plates in front of them. Ewan’s stomach rumbled, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since morning, He nodded to his uncle. “Will you be offering thanks, or shall I?”
    “I’ll pray. I’m hungry and your prayers go on too long. Besides, I doubt you’ll have much to be thankful for once your aunt finishes with you.”
    Ewan bowed his head but didn’t miss the fact that his uncle had picked up his fork before he offered a one-sentence prayer.
    His uncle jabbed a piece of meat. “See how short a prayer can be, Ewan? Doesn’t take more than a few words to bless the food.” He glanced at his wife. “Did ya have nothing more to say to Ewan about the brickyard, Maggie?”
    Perhaps Ewan had misread his uncle’s earlier look, for he didn’t appear fearful at the moment. Instead, he seemed to relish the fact that he’d be an onlooker rather than the recipient of Aunt Maggie’s attention.
    Maggie buttered a piece of warm bread, then placed the knife across her plate. She was like a hawk circling its prey, waiting for the precise moment and taking pleasure in the hunt. “From what your uncle tells me, I believe you are an extremely ungrateful young man, Ewan. We paid for your passage to this country, we’ve supported you since we arrived, and your uncle is doingeverything possible to help you establish a new life here. You did say that was what you wanted, didn’t you?”
    “Aye, you know it is. I came to be Uncle Hugh’s partner in a brickmaking business and provide a better life for my sisters.”
    “And how is it you plan to become an owner when you thwart your uncle’s negotiations? It appears you’re more interested in impressing the Woodfields than in striking a deal.” She wagged her head back and forth. “To think you would take sides against your own kin makes my blood run cold.”
    “Is it going against my kin to speak the truth, Aunt Margaret? I do not think the Crothers or McKays