Lane glanced at me, remained silent.
I sighed. He refused to tell the men, to tell anyone, the truth about Lil, about his past. Our pasts. While I’d come to terms with my heritage, Lane had not. Neither Walker nor Luke would care that I had a whore for a mother, that I grew up in a brothel, then slowly watched my mother die from liquor and a hard life. Nor would they care that Lane’s mother hadn’t just been a whore, but a mean one at that. She’d beat him when he was small, let her customers near him before I’d come into his life. While he’d never mentioned being touched by any of them, I had a strong suspicion they had. Beatings would have been the least of what had happened to him. His scars ran deeper and the past held not just misery, but evil. His secrets were heavy on his soul. By the time Lil found Lane, he’d been almost destroyed. Almost. Perhaps that’s why she put us together, turned us into brothers, so we’d have each other. Our own little family. She’d saved us both, but most especially Lane. That was why he protected her so vehemently and why I would not give up his confidence.
“Piper is indeed warm and very willing,” Lane agreed. “But we will continue to see Lil.”
It was the truth. We would see her. I would treat her as best I could, supply her the morphine she needed to tolerate the growing pain.
Walker looked to me in surprise. “I knew Lane had a long-standing relationship with her, but you, too?”
I flicked a glance at Lane, who had a blank face. He knew how to hide his emotions. “My… interest in her is more recent.”
Unlike Lane, I’d gone off to school and never returned, away for years. My visits to Lil were new, and unfortunately, short term.
Luke and Walker looked at each other and I knew they what they were thinking. We had a beautiful, willing wife and we’d still go and fuck a whore. But I couldn’t betray Lane. Having the others know the truth wasn’t worth the price.
“Tell us about the mine,” Walker said, clearly interested in changing the topic. He wasn’t going to try to sway us away from Lil. Married men had mistresses. It was a common occurrence. Accepted, even. It wasn’t his place to argue and I appreciated that.
Lane roused to the topic, leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees.
“The other day, one of the shirring beams was bad. One of the more experienced men noticed it. I went in and inspected it, the others nearby. I’m not sure if they were put in wrong or if the wood was just bad, but it was weak. There could have been a collapse.”
Luke owned the Trusty mine in Slate Springs and knew exactly to what I was referring.
“Do you have too many new men?” he asked. It was a valid question. Without experienced miners on shift, things could easily go wrong, and it seemed they were.
“There’s always new miners, but I’m always careful to keep a balance with those who’ve been in my employ for some time. I will need to be at the mine more until the sale goes through. I don’t want the deal, or the mine itself, to collapse.”
“Right, the sale. How is it going?” Walker asked.
“I have a fair price for it, just waiting for the papers to be drawn up.”
“But the sale could fall through if shoddy work has been discovered,” Luke added.
Lane shrugged. “It’s possible. I just don’t want anyone hurt.”
I laughed, albeit dryly. “Yes, I have enough business as it is.”
“Perhaps I’m more eager than I thought to have that mine sold and move on with my life,” Lane said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “My wife.”
Yes, perhaps Piper was good for Lane. Maybe he’d finally let go of the past and start living for the future. We had the start of a family. The way we’d filled Piper with our seed in just a day, a child would surely come soon, just like it had for the Tates. The idea had me eager to push our friends out the door and get on with making that baby. It wouldn’t be a hardship. Not one bit.
***
Piper
I’d donned my drawers and shift and was fastening the last of the stays on my corset when there was a soft knock on the door.
“Mrs. Drews, it’s Celia.”
Mrs. Drews. God, I was a married woman. I hadn’t forgotten anything we’d done, how wildly I’d behaved, but I had completely forgotten I had a new name. No, no, I didn’t. I wasn’t actually married to Spur. The marriage license I’d found in Patricia’s bag had her name on it in clear print. Not mine.
“Come in,” I said, grabbing my shift from my small bag. The clothes I’d worn the day before were probably still out on the back porch by a tub filled with cold water.
Celia was a pretty woman, fair-haired and blue-eyed. She could have been Lane’s sister with the similar coloring. She appeared to be several years older than I and with a noticeable swell to her belly. She was expecting a child.
“Your hair is gorgeous,” she blurted, then covered her mouth with her fingers and laughed. “Sorry, but the color.” She sighed. “So… bold.”
I lifted a long tendril. I had yet to pin it up and I imagined it was a wild cloud about my head. It had been wet when the men had taken me to bed and I had not been given the opportunity to braid it before sleep.