A Wild Woman: Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs

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A Wild Woman: Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs Page 8

by Vanessa Vale

Spur

  “You don’t have to tell me how lucky you are,” Lil said. Her voice was soft, much weaker than we’d ever heard it. She was in her bed, propped up with a number of pillows. Her hair, now gray, was plaited in a simple, thick braid over one bony shoulder. She wore a simple white nightgown with a pale pink robe over it. She’d lost so much weight from the cancer, practically wasting away before our eyes. After sixty years, she would be brought down from within, not from her hard, wild and often difficult life.

  While the rest of the brothel was busy with men eager to slake their needs at this time of night, it was quiet in Lil’s room, nestled at the back corner of the second floor; everyone respected her privacy. She’d moved from Denver to be near Lane when she became ill, settling with her friend, Rachel, who ran the Frightful Fawn. They’d known each other for decades. While Lil hadn’t been a madam for a few years, she felt most comfortable in the environment. It was the only one she really knew. And so Lane, who never gave in to anyone, had succumbed to her wishes to stay with Rachel. In trade, he visited her religiously and even sent for me in Chicago to move back.

  I sat on the side of her bed, held her hand, felt her pulse with my fingers as she spoke. It was steady, now. Soon though, soon it would be over.

  “Yes, the collapse sealed the entrance, but didn’t bring down all the supports. While we were cut off, we were safe enough.”

  Lane’s words made Lil’s mouth turn down. “I’ve heard all of this, and then some, from everyone who’s come to visit. What I don’t know is how you came away with only scrapes and cuts.”

  She looked us over with her shrewd eyes. She might be at death’s door, but she didn’t miss a thing.

  Lane shrugged, then winced. After almost two weeks, his shoulder still bothered him. Nothing was broken or torn, just bruised. He had a cut that was mostly healed on his forehead and a number of scrapes and bruises along his back, his hands, his shins.

  I had a goose egg lump on the back of my head from fallen rock, most likely a concussion, but there was no treatment for that. All we needed was time and it had taken care of most.

  “Luck. There’s no other explanation for it,” I said.

  After the first collapse, we’d gone in searching for any injured, anyone who’d survived. It had taken two days to get to them through the rubble and while they were dehydrated and hungry, they were alive. But it had been when Lane and I had gone back in with the foreman searching for the cause of the collapse, to replace any beams, that another collapse occurred, this one near the mouth of the mine.

  We’d been trapped within for three days. During that time, in the pitch darkness, the foreman had completely gone insane—something easily done without any light and a touch of claustrophobia—and told us of his nefarious actions. Lane and I assumed by then the mine was most likely being sabotaged, but we didn’t know why, or how. It was the only explanation for the troubles, all of which had been since Lane had arranged for the sale. He’d owned it for years without any issues with timbers, with cave-ins. His mine had been one of the safest in Colorado.

  “Rachel said it was done intentionally, the damage,” she said.

  I nodded, thinking of the cut and weakened timber we’d found. “Turns out the new owner was looking to lower the value of the mine. Wanted to pay less.”

  Lil’s gray eyebrows went up. “So he put men in danger just to save some money?”

  Lane paced the room, still angry at associating with such a fucker. “Yes. He’d hired someone on the crew to ensure bad shirrings were installed.”

  “Is he still at large?”

  Lane grinned. “The foreman, the one who’d done the new owner’s dirty work, was trapped in the mine with us. Three days of possible death and he’d come clean. Even told us about the time he stole candy from the mercantile when he was six and how he used to wet the bed.”

  It had been a long three days and I was glad to have the sheriff take him away when we emerged.

  “I went to Denver and confronted the new owner. He’s behind bars and I’ve moved on to a new buyer, one who has plenty of integrity.”

  “When does the sale go through?” she asked.

  “Next week, but he’s sent his new foreman—one who isn’t guilty—up to take over the running. Arrived two days ago. It’s a done deal.”

  I’d had a good night’s sleep, then spent all day with a woman birthing her first child. I was ready to get back to Slate Springs, and Piper. When Lane and I emerged from the mine, Luke Tate had already returned to his family, having worn himself out and been replaced. Piper’s whereabouts were known by everyone—it was a small town—and we knew she was with the Tates. But we’d only known her for a day, one damn day, and I missed her fiercely and it was time to go get her.

  We’d left things on bad terms. She thought the woman before us was our mistress. We’d gone into the mine with her spitting mad and let too much time pass. It wasn’t our intention to let two weeks go by, but shit intervened. We’d get to her and explain, make things right. In the meantime, she was safe, but I was a selfish man. She’d been with the Tates long enough. They had their own wife.

  “No more about the mine. How are you feeling?” I asked.

  Lil lifted her hand and waved it at me, frowned. Her skin had a yellowish tinge to it and I knew her liver was not well. “I feel like I’m dying. Tell me about your wife.”

  “Piper,” Lane said.

  She gave Lane a steely gaze. “Yes, Piper.”

  “She has bright red hair and a fiery personality to match.” I told her about seeing her for the first time in the saloon in Pueblo, how she’d handled the angered man with words and a gun. I couldn’t help the smile, thinking back on it now. I’d been impressed then and even more so now. Lane, though, was still riled about the incident, how she was not thinking for a moment about her own safety.

  “I think I’ll like her very much,” she said. “Reminds me of me when I was young.”

  I remembered back to when Lil had first taken us in. She’d been in her thirties then, a decade older than Piper was now, but she could wield a gun with ruthless precision and handle any man, drunk or sober.

  “Where is she?”

  “Slate Springs,” I replied. “Walker Tate took her with him back to their house. She is safe there and has his wife, Celia, to keep her company.”

  “I’m glad that she is staying with friends who are taking care of her, but she should be with you. Both of you. You’ve barely had what, a day, with her?”

  We both nodded curtly and she laughed. “I know men and I can only imagine the state of your balls.”

  Lane ran his hand over the back of his neck and I was thankful my beard hid the blush that heated my cheeks. She never let us forget she was a hardened madam.

  Lane practically growled at her with his frustration at not having Piper with us, between us. Under us. “We had to resolve the mine issues first. Hell, I had to ride to Denver and back. I want to be able to focus on her with nothing interfering.”

  He didn’t tell Lil how Piper was furious with them and she was at the center of it all. Unintentionally, but the cause of it nonetheless.

  “Took two weeks, and now we can do it,” I said. While I loved visiting with Lil, I was anxious to start up the mountain to Slate Springs and make things right.

  “Then go collect your bride. Bring her to visit when you sign the papers. I want to meet her before I die.” She paused and studied Lane. “Ah, that’s it then. You don’t want her to meet me.”

  Lane sighed. I sat quietly, watching them. It was best if I remained silent. No amount of arguing with Lane would change his mind. Piper needed to meet Lil, to know about her, our pasts, so she could understand us, understand where we came from. To fix the argument between us. I doubted she’d believe anything we said. Meeting Lil was the only way to resolve the misunderstanding between us.

  Later, when she didn’t hate us, knowing the truth of our pasts would help Piper understand why we would be so prot
ective, so overbearingly doting. Perhaps that was why, deep down, we’d wanted to marry together. We never wanted her or any children to be left alone, to risk any chance that Piper might turn into either of our mothers.

  “I want her to know you. I do. But I don’t want her to know my past. It’s dead and buried, like my mother,” Lane admitted.

  “You were always a stubborn one. You are ashamed of your past.”

  I gazed at Lane, his cheeks flushed, his eyes a little wild. Lil’s talk made him uncomfortable. Good. He had an old wound, one that hurt him far deeper than anything had been inflicted on him from the mine.

  “Not ashamed, not of you,” he clarified. “Never of you. You saved me.” Lane moved to sit on the bed beside her, across from me. He took her hand and looked at her so seriously. “You can’t expect me to tell Piper about what happened to me.” He shook his head. “I… I can’t.”

  Lil studied him with those perceptive eyes, eyes that saw everything. “So when she meets me, she’ll just know what a monster your mother was?”

  He frowned. “No.”

  “What will she see?”

  “A woman who was more mother than anyone else. A woman I love, and will miss dearly.”

  I saw the sorrow on Lane’s face and I felt it in my heart. His vehemence was what made Piper angry with us, believe the worst. If he’d told her to begin with, it never would have happened.

  Lil smiled and patted his hand. “Then bring her here and show her that. The rest, well… you both have grown into fine men. Gone far beyond where you came from. You are more, so much more, than your past. While I know you’ll never be able to let it go, you will live on.”

  Lane lifted her hand to his lips, gave her a gentle kiss. She was tiring.

  “You will live more and that is all she has to see. Now bring this woman to me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lane gave her a small smile. “We will retrieve her from Slate Springs and bring her back when I sign the mine paperwork.”

  As long as Piper hasn’t shot us first.

  Lil looked to me. “You’ll come, too?”

  “Of course. The doctor I replaced retired. He’s filling in for me while I’m gone, but he only expected me to collect Piper from Pueblo, not get trapped in a mine,” I added. “I’m sure he can keep everyone whole for a few more days. Besides, you’re my favorite patient.”

  “Flatterer.” Lil gave a slight nod. “Good boys.”

  “Ready for your morphine?” Her mouth was pinched and I could see her muscles were starting to tense with the ache brought on by the cancer. Soon enough, the dose would be so high she would not awaken. Fortunately, at that point, she’d die peacefully.

  Filling the syringe, I slid up the sleeve of her nightgown, found her vein and gave her the sweet relief.

  We waited the minute it took her to settle into sleep. I looked over Lil’s body to Lane. “You need to make it right with Piper. She’s thought, for two fucking weeks, that we have a mistress. Let’s go get our girl.”

  ***

  Lane

  “Pardon me.”

  We’d just come down the stairs to the brothel’s foyer. The house wasn’t decadent as were the establishments in Denver that catered to the rich, but it was large enough to support the patronage of the miners and other men in the area. It also had an excellent supply of whiskey to help the men to see past any kind of deficiency. Loose women eager for a wild ride also helped.

  I turned toward the voice, Spur taking the last step and then standing beside me. Two big, young, redheaded men were before us, a scantily clad girl wrapped around each one of them, almost clinging like a vine.

  I lifted an eyebrow in way of response. I ached after spending time with Lil, knowing she would be gone soon. I mourned her and she wasn’t even dead yet. Just visiting with her brought up my past, made me want to hit something and throw up all at the same time. But I’d had decades of practice tamping down the hell I’d endured and only waited patiently for the man to speak.

  “I understand you own the town’s mine.”

  The men were definitely brothers, their facial features similar. Both had blue eyes and fair skin, but one sported a beard. They were dressed well enough, but I gained no clue as to their profession besides knowing they weren’t miners. Their hands were too clean. If they wanted to be miners, I’d direct them to the new owner’s foreman. Their size would be an asset.

  “That’s right. I’m Lane Haskins.”

  “I’m Jed Dare, and my brother—” he tilted his head toward the other man, “—Knox. We’re looking for our sister and we understand you might know where she is.”

  “Oh?” I asked, flicking my gaze toward Spur.

  “I’m not familiar with a Miss Dare. I’m sorry.” I turned to leave.

  “Her name’s Piper and has hair like ours.”

  I stilled, my hand just over the knob. Looked back at them over my shoulder.

  I have five older brothers.

  There weren’t too many red-haired men about, let alone two who looked alike. I saw no resemblance to Piper in their features. She was at least a foot shorter and had no facial hair or Adam’s apple, yet there was no doubt these two were her siblings. If the other three brothers were of similar size, I felt pity for their mother. No wonder no suitors got anywhere near Piper. I was a little afraid of them and I was already married to her.

  “You do know of her,” Jed Dare said, obviously seeing the awareness on my face. He looked to Knox and gave a quick smile, sighed.

  Spur stepped forward. “I’m Spurgeon Drews.”

  “Spurgeon, what kind of name is that?”

  Spur was used to people mocking his name and he took no offense by the usual surprise.

  “One my mother stuck me with. I go by Spur. For Piper, she calls me husband.”

  Both men’s mouths fell open and stared at Spur wide-eyed.

  “She’s… your wife?”

  Spur nodded. “A little over two weeks now.”

  “If you’re married to Piper, then why the fuck are you in a brothel?” Knox asked, glancing down at the dark-haired woman who clung to him, her corset-covered breasts pressed against his side, but ignoring her eagerness.

  His hands clenched into fists.

  I didn’t blame him. We did look bad coming from the second floor of a brothel. It was basically the same question Piper had put to us two weeks ago before the mine collapsed. I hadn’t wanted to tell her then about Lil, and didn’t want to now, but it seemed I was outnumbered. What had seemed an innocent attempt to keep my past in the past had turned into a complete fuck-up. Spur had been bothered by it since… forever. I had Piper angry, and knowing her temper, after two weeks she would probably shoot me on sight. Lil was upset and these two men were ready to beat the shit out of me.

  Fuck.

  “Perhaps we can speak of this outside, or do you have interest in the ladies first?” I asked, eying the women who were hanging on to our every word just as much as the brawny men.

  Having forgotten the women, the Dare brothers untangled themselves and stormed out the front door and onto the quiet street.

  “Start talking,” Jed said, arms crossed over his chest.

  “What is Piper’s real name?” I asked.

  They looked to me, turning their anger my way.

  “Piper,” Knox said. “We just told you as much.”

  “Not Patricia?” Spur asked.

  “Are you deaf?” Knox yelled.

  “No,” Jed added. “Her name is not Patricia.”

  “What the fuck is going on? We’ve been trailing her all the way from Wichita and we want answers,” Knox commanded.

  “And our sister,” Jed added. “Where the hell is she?”

  Piper, our wife, was not really Patricia Strong, but Piper Dare. She’d lied to us and her brothers were irate. She’d said they never hurt her, that they were just overprotective, therefore the name change was not to avoid them. I’d known many an abused woman and Piper never behaved a
s one.

  “There seems to have been a little deception,” Spur said, also knowing we were caught in the middle of something. I turned and looked at him, then down at the ground before meeting the angry looks of Piper’s brothers.

  They waited impatiently.

  “Your sister introduced herself to us as a Miss Patricia Strong, a woman I married as a mail order bride. We met her in Pueblo as planned.”

  “And you? Why the hell did the man at the mercantile direct me to see you, Haskins, instead of this guy? Her husband?” Knox tilted his bearded chin toward Spur.

  “Because under the law of Slate Springs, where we will live with her, I am also her husband.” I knew my words were like striking a match to dry tinder.

  The men stared at us dumbly for a minute.

  “It’s a town law that allows for two men to marry the same woman,” Spur clarified.

  Jed pointed at Spur, then at me. “You’re telling me our sister is married to you… and you?”

  “She has two men fucking her and you still go to a brothel? What kind of husbands are you?” Knox shouted.

  That was a good question and now I saw why Piper had been so upset.

  Shit. I was a complete asshole and she’d spent the past two weeks stewing over it.

  But I realized in that moment that having Piper think she was married to two philanderers wasn’t the worst of it.

  “It appears, gentlemen, that we actually aren’t her husbands at all,” I added, looking to Spur. The truth was a bit hard to swallow. “We married Patricia Strong, not Piper Dare.”

  While I’d been protective of her, possessive too, I hadn’t thought through what a husband really meant. It meant baring more than my body and expecting her to do the same. It meant sharing everything. Even my past, no matter how bad it was. And now, knowing Piper hadn’t been ours all along only made me think we’d never have a chance with her. She’d had her reasons for impersonating Patricia Strong, and two of them probably were standing right in front of us.

  If she thought we didn’t want her, then how could we ever get her to agree to really marry us? She didn’t have to do so. Even though we’d bedded her, she could still refuse any attempts we made. I wanted her and I knew Spur did, too. We’d do anything to have her. Anything.

 

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