Beginnings (26 page)

Beth hadn’t considered having to ask permission for employees to join her workforce. Her stomach churned. She was still considered an outsider. Even though the men were related to her, they could say no.

“You know them better than I do.” She clasped her hands in her lap, almost holding her breath. “Would you mind making the calls? You’ll be pretty much in charge of their training anyway, as my top assistant.”

Andrew sat up straighter, his smile wide. “I can do that. Should I call now?”

“Please do.” Beth slipped from the stool. “And I’ll get busy on the McCauley window. The last thing we want to do now is miss the deadline!”

Beth listened with half an ear as Andrew made telephone calls. In both cases, the men were working away from the house, but he elicited promises for them to call him at the studio when they returned home for the evening. It occurred to her as she listened to the calm surety in Andrew’s voice how much he had changed in the months at the studio. His self-confidence had grown by leaps and bounds, and she realized with a small rush of pride that she had shared in his growth.

A warmth spread through her middle, and she lifted her face to send him a smile of approval. When he smiled back, his ears didn’t even turn red.

***

By ten o’clock Tuesday morning, Beth wished she had a pair of headphones to block out the noise that stole her concentration, yet she didn’t complain. She would show nothing but appreciation for the four men who’d graciously come to block and pour the floor for her addition no matter how raucous their laughter and noisy their hammers.

Inside the studio wasn’t much better with Andrew running the cutting wheel to ready pieces for two pink butterfly suncatchers. Beth glanced up and swallowed the giggle that tried to form. Both Livvy and Catherine in their dresses, white caps, and neat anklets seemed so unsuited to this setting. Yet they stood side by side, aprons and goggles in place, and watched each step of the process with concentration. The hammering and voices from behind the studio didn’t seem to distract them at all, and for a moment, Beth envied them their complete attentiveness to their task.

If only she could be so single-minded today! Last night she’d lain awake, her mind refusing to shut down. So many things to think about. If she hired workers, she needed to file paperwork with the Social Security Administration, be sure she talked to an accountant about tax laws, and update the record-keeping system in her computer so if she was ever audited, she’d be prepared. She needed to browse catalogs for the best prices in new equipment—another cutting wheel; more gloves and pliers and nippers; and an oven for staining and firing her own glass.

Her heart tripped at the idea of coloring glass. Creating her own hues and shades rather than relying on a little block of color from an online store or paper catalog to match the hue and shade in her imagination. Her dreams were rapidly becoming reality, and Beth alternated between wanting to dance and shout and sing ... and wishing she could hide and cower and cry.

Lord, thank You for the progress being made, for the people willing to help me. Let my studio be a reflection of what You have planted in me
—
let these projects bring glory to You.

The prayer formed effortlessly, and the fear shrank. Surely, as she’d told her grandfather, this studio was God’s plan for her life. “If God is for me, who can be against me?” She murmured the words, paraphrasing a verse she’d encountered in her devotional reading. The thought washed her in peace, the fear melting away. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

Andrew and his two observers moved to the worktable, where he demonstrated and then allowed each of them to snap the glass. Soon the three of them each held a carborundum stone and applied it to the edges of the wedges of pink glass. Beth, watching out of the corner of her eye, developed an even greater admiration for Andrew. He would be a wonderful foreman.

She sat upright, wondering when she’d finally released her worry over depending on him too much. God must be working on her, too. Humming to herself, she bent back over the platform.

With all the hammering outside, she almost missed the sound of the telephone ringing. Andrew stepped away from the worktable to answer it, then held it out to Beth. “It’s Sean McCauley.”

Beth rose, brushed off her knees, and took the phone. She plugged her opposite ear with her finger. “Good morning, Sean.”

“Good morning. It’s noisy over there!” His chuckle softened the complaint.

“I know.” Beth paused, suddenly unwilling to divulge everything taking place. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t want Sean to know about all of the changes ... yet. She sought a way to tell the truth without divulging specifics. “There’s some construction nearby. It gets loud.”

“I guess so.” He seemed to accept her explanation. “Listen, I won’t keep you because I know you’re busy, but I needed to let you know Dad will be accompanying me to Sommerfeld next Wednesday. Although he’s stayed up on the progress of the window through my reports and has seen pictures, he wants to meet you in person and see the window himself before we finalize McCauley’s working relationship with you. Will that work?”

Beth’s heart set up a patter. One more week, and everything would be final! “That sounds fine.”

“And Dad would like to take you to dinner. We’ll discuss all the details while we eat.”

Beth frowned. “Well, the café here in town closes early on Wednesday since that’s Bible study night, so we’ll have to drive in to one of the bigger towns.”

Sean’s laughter came through the line, giving Beth a lift. “Not a problem, although one of these days I do want to sample the cooking at that café. I’ve heard good things about it.”

“Someday,” Beth promised, then fell silent. How many times would she and Sean meet face-to-face once her employment was set? Wouldn’t they just communicate through e-mail, fax, and phone calls? The thought depressed her. She shook her head, throwing off the sadness. “Do you know what time you’ll get here Wednesday?”

“We’ll probably leave K.C. at noon. It generally takes me a little over three hours, so look for us around three, three thirty. Is that okay?”

Beth licked her lips. “Sure. That’ll leave me most of the day to finish things up.”

“Sounds good.” A pause, and then his voice returned, lower, husky. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

Beth’s mouth went dry. “Me—” She swallowed. “Me, too, Sean. See you then.” She hung up the phone before anything else could be said.

As she returned to the platform, she glanced at Andrew. He smirked and winked. Heat rose in her face, and she turned away to get busy.

***

Sean pushed the disconnect button on his telephone, then released it and punched in his father’s number. When he heard his father answer, he spoke without preamble. “Next Wednesday afternoon will be fine. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”

“I’ll pick you up. I want to drive.”

“Okay. Noon then. Anything else you want me to do in preparation for the final contract?”

“No.” Dad’s authoritative voice boomed through the line. “You’ve done the legwork. I’ll do the paperwork. But do bring all the dimensions for the windows for that Denver church, as well as the one in Carlton. Even though we’d have time to get that to her later, given the construction schedule, I’d prefer she have them so she can fit the planning into her schedule.”

Sean fingered the neat paper on his desk. It already bore the dimensions of each window and its location in the finished buildings. “Not a problem.”

“Does she plan to continue doing her own work, as well?”

Sean frowned. “I’m not sure. I know initially she hoped to, but I’m not sure how she could handle all we’re throwing at her plus her own stuff.” For a moment Sean felt guilt press at him. He hoped Beth wasn’t setting her own dreams aside for the sake of fulfilling McCauley contracts.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” his father stated emphatically. “Let her work it out. What matters is being able to brand that young lady as the McCauley stained-glass window artist. No other churches will sport windows with the kind of design we can offer. It’ll give us yet another edge in the construction world. So how are the mock-ups for that annex in South Carolina coming?”

It took Sean a moment to catch up with Dad’s abrupt change of topic, but he answered several questions about the potential recreational facility on the East Coast. They discussed the project in Mexico, which was nearing its completion, and argued about the best supplier for cross beams before hanging up.

As Sean put the phone back in the cradle, he felt as though something had been lacking in their conversation. He pressed his mind, and when the answer came, it surprised him. Because it had nothing to do with business.

When, he wondered, was the last time he and Dad had talked about anything that didn’t directly involve McCauley Church Construction? He couldn’t remember. But why did that bother him?

TWENTY-FOUR

Beth whistled, enjoying the quiet inside the studio. She’d come early to beat the crew, who planned to pour concrete into the frame they’d constructed yesterday. Mixing and pouring concrete was much less noisy, yet knowing they were out there might still provide too much of a distraction. She hoped that by getting a jumpstart, she’d be so focused she wouldn’t even notice when the men arrived.

Knowing she’d be the only one inside the studio since Andrew spent Wednesdays with his father, she had told the two girls to come back on Thursday. She came close to taking Winky with her. She’d left him home yesterday out of worry the confusion outside would frighten him. In the end, though, she’d decided a day of no distractions also meant a day of no Winky. As much as she loved the kitten, he did tend to demand attention.

He was also turning into a real jumper. His back legs must have springs in them. In the middle of the night, a mighty crash had signaled his naughtiness. She hadn’t been too happy when she’d discovered her answering machine on the floor instead of on the corner of her desk where it belonged. That had finalized her decision to leave the kitten at home. She intended to make full use of this totally-to-herself day and finish the McCauley window before the deadline.

Taking stock of the remaining unfinished area, Beth calculated how many more hours would be needed before she could solder and glaze the entire panel. The last step would be soldering metal crossbars in place to give the window additional strength—the last thing she wanted was to have this window buckle! But attaching crossbars would be the simplest task of the entire project. If she worked hard today and there were no more errors—unlikely, she chuckled, with the pouncing Winky at home—she should be able to finish just under deadline.

Oh, please, Lord! I want this studio to be everything You planned it to be!

She organized the next section of glass on the floor, then knelt down and picked up the first piece and slid it into the left-hand side of the H formed by lead came. Just as she wiggled it firmly against the lead border, the back door opened. Assuming it was one of the men ready to start pouring concrete, she kept her eyes on her work and called, “I’ll be right with you.”

“Beth.”

Andrew’s voice—and the serious note held in the single word—brought Beth’s head up. When she saw his face, her heart fired into her throat. The piece of glass forgotten, she pushed to her feet. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t answered your phone.” Andrew took a step forward. He twisted his hands at his waist, the nervous gesture heightening Beth’s worry with each passing moment.

“It hasn’t rung this morning.”

“Last night, Henry tried to call.”

“H–Henry?” Beth stumbled around the platform. Why wouldn’t she have heard the phone? Then she remembered. She’d had a headache, probably from the additional activity at the studio, so she’d turned off her cell phone and the ringer on her home phone. She had been in such a hurry this morning to get to the studio, she hadn’t bothered to turn either of them back on.

Grabbing Andrew’s hand, she begged, “What did Henry need?”

Andrew shook his head, his eyes sorrowful. “Last night, a little after midnight, Aunt Marie woke up and felt as though something was wrong. She woke Uncle Henry, and he took her to the McPherson hospital. They transferred her by ambulance to Wichita.”

Beth’s heart pounded so hard her ears rang. “Mom? Is she okay? The ... the babies?” A cold chill broke out over her body. She tugged Andrew’s hands. “Tell me! What happened?”

Andrew shrugged. “That’s all I know. My folks followed Uncle Henry to McPherson, then followed the ambulance to Wichita. Your grandparents went, too. But I haven’t heard anything this morning. Uncle Henry asked me to let you know what was going on.”

Beth dashed to the door. “Which hospital?”

“Wesley Medical Center.” Andrew stepped toward her, his hand outstretched. “Uncle Henry would have called if something ... bad ... happened. I think you can assume no news is good news.”

Beth pushed that comment aside. “I’ve only been to Wichita a couple of times since I moved to Kansas. I’m not sure I can find the hospital on my own. Do you know where it is?”

Andrew nodded slowly, his delayed reactions infuriating Beth. “Yes. My grandpa had surgery there once.”