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“If you will arrive as soon as you can after the morning whistle's blow from the mine, tomorrow, I will see to it that all will be well with your family. No need to fear. I will keep my word. And you? Will you keep yours? For not to, means only heartache for you. You know that.”
“Yes. I understand,” she murmured.
“Then I will bid you good day, Maria,” he said, bowing slightly, then turned and hurried outside to his carriage.
Maria inched her way to the door and watched, trembling, until the carriage moved from sight. She closed the door behind her, feeling a chill race up and down her spine. Had this been real? Had this truly happened? She leaned against the door, sobbing. She had for so long thought herself to be strong, both physically and mentally. But now? She felt as though she was a child, unable to control her own destiny. She chewed her lower lip while tears crept from her eyes. She knew that she had no choice but to do as Nathan Hawkins ordered. No matter what she would do … or no matter whom she would tell of her dilemma . .. she knew the end result. She would possibly be the cause of the loss of three lives. Her own, her brother's, and . . . her … Papa's….
The shrill shriek from the mine's whistle drew her mind to the present. She looked down at herself, seeing the ugliness of her garb, then rushed to her bedroom. She had to dress the part of the sister … daughter .. this one more evening. Knives seemed to be piercing her heart, as she thought that this was possibly her last night with her family. “Oh, God,” she prayed. “Make it to not be true. Make it to be a nightmare that I will wake up from, and soon. . . .”
She took one last look at her violin, touching it gingerly, feeling the slickness of its varnished exterior, then shut it inside its case and placed it beneath her bed. Then as quickly as she could, she exchanged her chimney sweep costume for her thin cotton dress. She fingered the dress, feeling a creeping eagerness that set her face to flaming because of shame, knowing that deep inside herself she was envisioning herself in other dresses, maybe even fancy hats, like those she had seen on the many women this afternoon in Creal Springs.
She gritted her teeth, wondering how she could let herself think for one moment that what she would be forced to do would be anything pleasant. It would be a life of ugliness … so degrading to have been forced into a life with such a man. . . .
But her thoughts suddenly turned to revenge. “Won't I have some control over the lives of the Italians, if I am the wife of Nathan Hawkins?” she said aloud, smiling coyly. “Has he forgotten that to give me his name . . . will be the same as also giving me . . . the power that goes along with . . . that name . .. ?” A feeling swept over her, a feeling of growing confidence in what she was being made to do. “I will make sure my family is well cared for. Nathan Hawkins won't even know I am doing so. He will be too entranced by the way I will use my body with him to even wonder where I will spend my days when he is away. I will go to my family and give them things they have never had before.”
She laughed hoarsely. “Yes, Nathan Hawkins. I will repay you for what you have done. I will use your name . .. your wealth . . . your power … for the Italians. All Italians. . .
Chapter Eleven
Maria lay half asleep, then awakened, startled, when she heard a noise in her room. Pulling the blanket up to hide her thin cotton chemise, she peered through the darkness, seeing a figure moving toward the bed.
“Who's there?” she whispered, growing afraid. Had Nathan Hawkins sent one of his representatives to pluck her away in the middle of the night? She moved to an upright position, inching her way from the bed.
“Maria?” Alberto whispered, reaching for her.
Maria exhaled heavily, relieved. “Alberto?” she whispered. “What are you doing? Why are you sneaking about in my bedroom?” She was remembering him watching her . . . following her to the privy. Had he truly become deranged . . . ?
Alberto moved onto the bed, placing his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. “Maria. Shh. Let's not awaken Papa,” Alberto said softly.
Maria began to squirm, feeling embarrassed to have her brother so close to her in this bedroom. It was not Italy. Their Gran-mama was not sleeping in the same room, only a few feet away. Things had changed. There was a respect to uphold when having a bedroom to one's self. “Alberto,” she cried softly. “Let me go. Why are you behaving in such a foolish way?”
With his eyes, Alberto sought out her figure in the darkness and could see her outline, making his heart pound fiercely. He moved his elbow up to let it touch a breast. Even though she was his sister, he couldn't help but ache for her in an abnormal way. “I've come to talk, Maria,” he said thickly, clearing his throat nervously.
“About what. . . ?” she said, moving away from him.
He ran his fingers through his whiskers, knowing that his movements had been foolish. He didn't dare lose his sister's respect. She was .. . his . . . life. “About someone I just saw at Ruby's,” he quickly blurted.
“So you have been there again, Alberto?” she said angrily. “Must you? Every night?” She pulled the blanket upward, shivering from the chill of the early evening. Then she said, “You can't have been gone long. Why did you return so soon? What was this about someone you saw at Ruby's? Did this person cause you to leave so soon? Or did you run out of gambling money?”
“Maria, will you just listen,” Alberto grumbled, looking toward the bedroom door, hoping their Papa wouldn't hear the conversation being exchanged between brother and sister in this bedroom of darkness.
“Okay,” she said impatiently. “Tell me. What's this all about? Who did you see?”
“Michael Hopper,” Alberto said quickly, wishing to see his sister's expression, but without any lights, he just listened to her quick intake of breath. He smiled to himself, anxious to tell her the rest.
Maria's heartbeats skipped as her hands went to her throat. “Did you … say… Michael… ?” she gasped.
“At Ruby's? Surely… you … are … wrong“
Alberto laughed hoarsely. “No mistake, Maria,” he said.
“But… Michael“
“Michael was there. I saw him. No way could I be mistaken,” Alberto said.
“With … one of Ruby's … ?”
Alberto laughed once again. “No. He had just arrived and was
