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 tailcoatand 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 myduty 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,
Jeff Benedict, Armen Keteyian