The Moonstone Heiress- Chapter Nine: Where There is Work, I Shall Be

Carlone kept to her original route and stopped at the coastal inn before deciding what to do next.

She had news to deliver anyway.

Viktor wasn't coming back.

Merri was initially alarmed by this announcement until Carlone explained that Viktor had settled on the farm with Faya.

"Settled?" Merri asked.

"Very settled."

"How settled?"

Carlone smiled.

"He calls her his wife."

Merri stared.

"His wife?"

"That's what he calls her."

"And when exactly was anyone going to tell his mother?"

Carlone decided that was a question Viktor could answer himself.

She made herself useful while she stayed.

Merri and her husband were older now, and Buloke worked the tavern most evenings.

Carlone joined him behind the bar, which gave Peaches a chance to rest.

Peaches was pregnant again.

Sara and Juniper were older too, but neither was quite ready to manage a room full of drunk quarry workers and travelers by herself.

Carlone told herself that was why she stayed.

It wasn't the only reason.

She was waiting.

Counting days.

Wondering.

Carlone might be pregnant.

The possibility had occurred to her somewhere on the road from the Regent's estate, and once it did, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

She had mixed feelings.

Not about children themselves.

She liked children.

She simply couldn't picture one belonging to her.

Carlone's life consisted of walking wherever she pleased, sleeping beneath trees, working dangerous jobs, and changing direction whenever the world changed around her.

A baby couldn't live that way.

Or shouldn't.

There were ways to prevent pregnancy. Shepherds sold barrier methods in the markets, and midwives offered preparations intended for the same purpose.

Carlone and the Regent had used none of them.

At the time, she'd barely thought about it.

Now she thought about little else.

What would she do?

Return to Faya?

Raise a child alone?

Find the Regent and tell him?

The last possibility filled her with particular dread.

She didn't even know whether he truly was the Regent.

For all Carlone knew, she'd spent several days with an unusually confident groundskeeper.

She hoped she was worrying over nothing.

She wanted to remain what she'd finally become.

Free.

Working the tavern gave Carlone more time alone with Buloke than she'd ever spent with him before.

He was normally cheerful.

Lately, he wasn't.

One night, after the customers had thinned out, Buloke leaned against the counter.

"Marriage isn't what I thought it would be."

Carlone continued wiping down a table.

"What did you think it would be?"

"Not this."

That wasn't particularly informative.

Buloke glanced toward the doorway before lowering his voice.

"Peaches used to be fun."

Carlone stopped wiping.

"She still is sometimes."

"Not with me."

Carlone waited.

Buloke seemed to regret starting the conversation.

Then the words came faster.

He and Peaches argued constantly. He found excuses to remain away from her. Sometimes he considered staying at the quarry through winter simply so he wouldn't have to come home.

Carlone didn't know what to say.

She liked Buloke.

She also couldn't ignore the fact that Peaches was pregnant, raising small children, and

working at an inn.

Perhaps she wasn't as carefree as she'd once been because her life no longer allowed her to be.

Carlone thought of offering that observation.

Then she imagined Buloke repeating it during their next argument.

Absolutely not.

She patted his shoulder instead.

"Chin up."

Buloke looked disappointed.

"Things change."

"That's your advice?"

"It's the advice that keeps me from becoming part of your marriage."

That almost made him smile.

Carlone went to bed.

Buloke remained downstairs long after her, drinking his family's ale and staring into nothing.

Peaches cornered Carlone the following morning.

Carlone knew immediately what she wanted.

"What did Buloke say last night?"

"About what?"

Peaches gave her a look.

Carlone had survived blood fever, quarry work, and a burning barn.

She wasn't foolish enough to get trapped between a husband and wife.

So she changed the subject.

"I may have accidentally had a romance with the future husband of the Queen."

Peaches blinked.

"What?"

It worked beautifully.

Carlone told her the story.

The storm.

The estate.

The strange man.

His endless talk about royalty.

By the end, Carlone was laughing at herself.

"He was probably the groundskeeper."

Peaches wasn't laughing.

"What did he look like?"

Carlone described him.

Peaches became more interested.

Then, somehow, the conversation moved to Carlone's real worry.

"I might be pregnant."

Peaches stared.

"You don't know?"

"Not yet."

"Does he know?"

"No."

"If you are, you find him."

Carlone frowned.

"And tell him?"

"Tell him he's going to pay."

"Pay?"

"He's marrying a queen!"

Carlone stared at her.

Peaches began enthusiastically describing all the ways Carlone could use such information to secure money for herself and the child.

Carlone listened in increasing discomfort.

A younger version of Carlone might simply have decided Peaches was a terrible person.

Now she hesitated.

Peaches had spent years working taverns where charm, flirtation, and knowing what people wanted were part of surviving.

Carlone had survived by carrying rocks.

Perhaps neither of them completely understood the other's way of making it through the world.

"I don't want his money," Carlone finally said.

"If there's a child, it's not only your money."

That stopped Carlone.

Peaches had a point.

Carlone hated that.

"I'll worry about it if there's something to worry about."

She escaped before Peaches could create an entire financial strategy for an unborn child who might not exist.

Carlone's period arrived.

She had never been so pleased to see it.

She sat on the edge of her bed and laughed with relief.

No baby.

No Regent.

No impossible decision.

Then another thought came.

Faya.

Faya and Viktor had spent an entire summer together as husband and wife without a pregnancy.

Carlone wondered whether that meant anything.

Their grandmother had survived blood fever.

Carlone had.

Faya had.

Perhaps the fever changed survivors in ways nobody understood.

Perhaps infertility was one of them.

Or perhaps Faya simply hadn't become pregnant.

Carlone had no way of knowing.

That uncertainty joined the growing collection of things nobody seemed to understand about blood fever.

The supposed green skin.

The belief that survivors remained contagious.

The fact that Carlone had lived among healthy people for years without infecting anyone.

The prejudice persisted anyway.

Sometimes Carlone wanted to stand in the middle of town and announce exactly what she was.

I survived.

Look at me.

You aren't dying.

But courage had consequences.

Truth wouldn't necessarily protect her from frightened people.

Carlone had learned that fear could survive evidence.

So she remained silent.

One bitter winter night, the tavern door flew open.

Mox entered with a crowd of soaked, exhausted men.

"We've all quit!"

Buloke looked up.

Carlone nearly laughed.

Of course Mox had.

"What happened this time?" she asked.

Mox spotted her.

"Quarry girl!"

"I'm not a quarry girl anymore."

"Good."

That wiped the smile from her face.

Mox and the other workers ordered drinks.

"The quarry's flooded," he said. "Half the men have been cut loose. The rest are being sent into places no sane person should work."

Carlone knew the rain had been unusually heavy.

Flooding was believable.

Mox leaned closer.

"You heard about Neery and Christchen?"

Carlone shook her head.

His expression changed.

"They're dead."

Carlone went still.

"What happened?"

"Boulder came down."

The room suddenly seemed quieter.

"Like Viktor?"

"Worse."

Mox didn't give her every detail.

He didn't need to.

One man had died before the end of the day.

The other survived for two more.

Carlone remembered Viktor's crushed foot.

The blackened toe.

The doctor's warning.

"Why is this happening?"

"It didn't used to be this bad."

"Because the old managers knew what they were doing."

Mox took a drink.

"They quit."

"All of them?"

"Enough. Owner wouldn't increase their pay. New men came in. Company wants more stone moved than ever, and the fools running the place don't care how."

Mox looked directly at her.

For once, there was no joking in his face.

"Don't go back."

Carlone didn't answer.

"The quarry will kill you eventually," he said. "If you're lucky, it'll only break you first."

Carlone remembered his warning years ago.

Back then she'd thought he meant aching muscles.

Now Viktor walked with a brace.

Two men were dead.

The lower quarry was flooded.

Carlone finally accepted what she'd been avoiding.

She wasn't going back.

The following night, Buloke started a fight.

Carlone never discovered exactly why.

She attempted to drag him away and received an elbow to the face for her trouble.

Pain exploded around her eye.

She didn't release him.

Eventually the fight ended.

Later, Buloke stared at the swelling around Carlone's eye.

"You didn't even flinch."

"I absolutely flinched."

"Not much."

Carlone touched the bruise and winced.

Years of quarry work had apparently taught her to keep moving after getting hurt.

She wasn't sure that was something to be proud of.

Buloke became quiet.

"I'm not going back."

"To the quarry?"

He nodded.

"I keep thinking about Viktor."

Carlone waited.

"What happened to him could happen to me."

"Yes."

Buloke looked ashamed.

"That's why I haven't been able to act normal around him."

Carlone frowned.

"I look at him and feel sorry for him."

"Viktor hates that."

"I know."

"I mean he really hates that."

Buloke rubbed his face.

"I didn't know how to treat him like nothing changed."

"Something did change."

Buloke looked at her.

"His foot changed," Carlone said. "Viktor didn't."

That silenced him.

Carlone finally understood why Viktor had stayed away from the inn.

He hadn't been afraid his family wouldn't care.

He'd been afraid their caring would turn him into someone smaller in their eyes.

"He's doing well," Carlone said.

Buloke looked up.

"He's with Faya."

"Your sister?"

"My sister."

Carlone smiled.

"They call each other husband and wife now."

Buloke's face brightened.

"Viktor got married?"

"Apparently without telling anyone."

Buloke laughed.

Some of the heaviness left his face.

Then he leaned closer.

"I know what I'm going to do."

Carlone immediately became suspicious.

"The palace guard."

"The what?"

"The Queen's getting married in the Capital. They're opening the castle again. Guard pay is

better than anything around here."

Carlone stared at him.

The Queen.

Getting married.

Carlone touched the moonstone at her neck.

She said nothing about the man at the estate.

The supposed Regent was almost certainly a groundskeeper anyway.

Probably.

The next morning brought another reminder of the quarry's cost.

Neery's widow arrived.

She brought three teenage sons, two grown daughters, and her elderly mother.

No one made a grand announcement.

They simply arrived carrying what remained of their lives.

Grief seemed to follow them through the doorway.

Carlone recognized it.

They immediately began working.

Perhaps they needed to.

The girls helped with laundry.

The older women took over much of the kitchen.

The boys chopped wood and repaired whatever they could around the property.

With Sara and Juniper helping too, the inn suddenly ran better than it had in years.

Carlone realized something by the end of the first day.

Nobody needed her.

Once, that realization would have terrified her.

Now it didn't.

Being unnecessary wasn't the same as being unwanted.

And being loved didn't mean she had to stay.

Buloke and Peaches continued deteriorating.

Their disagreements became arguments.

Their arguments became shouting.

Buloke insisted Peaches had changed.

Peaches insisted Buloke expected marriage to remain exactly as it had been before

children, bills, pregnancies, and exhaustion.

Then Buloke announced he wasn't returning to the quarry.

Peaches exploded.

"The inn doesn't support us through the whole year!"

"I'll find something else."

"When?"

"I said I'll find something!"

"You're a husband and a father, Buloke. You don't get to wander around waiting for something to happen!"

A crash shook the house.

Carlone froze.

Merri appeared from the kitchen.

A broken vase lay on the floor.

Peaches was crying.

Buloke was shouting.

Their little children were close enough to hear everything.

That ended it.

Merri marched into the room.

"Enough!"

Everyone went silent.

She pointed at Buloke.

"Out."

His mouth fell open.

"Mam—"

"Out with you."

"This is my home."

"And those are your children listening to the two of you tear each other apart!"

Peaches sank into a chair, one hand against her pregnant belly.

Merri grabbed Buloke by the collar.

"Go find work. Send money home. Come back when the two of you can speak without breaking my dishes."

Buloke looked stunned.

Carlone had never seen Merri throw anyone out.

Especially him.

Carlone quietly returned to her room.

She began packing.

Not because Merri had asked her to leave.

She hadn't.

But Carlone had no money left.

The inn was full.

There was work elsewhere.

And somewhere along the way, Carlone had learned the difference between leaving because she was unwanted and leaving because it was simply time.

Buloke appeared in the doorway while she packed.

"Mox is heading to the Capital."

Carlone looked up.

"For the palace work?"

"Anything he can get, apparently."

Buloke shifted awkwardly.

"I've never been there."

"Neither have I."

"It's better than sitting here."

Carlone waited.

Buloke's confidence disappeared.

"Would you come with me?"

There it was.

Not an invitation to adventure.

A request not to make the journey alone.

Carlone looked at her canvas sack.

The quarry was gone.

Faya had the farm.

The inn didn't need another pair of hands.

And the Capital—

Carlone thought about the Regent.

She still didn't entirely believe him.

But perhaps she wanted to know.

She slung the bag over her shoulder.

"All right."

Buloke smiled.

They went downstairs.

Carlone hugged Merri.

Then the others.

Even Peaches.

No dramatic farewells.

No promises about when she'd return.

Carlone and Buloke stepped onto the road.

They hadn't gone far when someone came running after them.

"Wait!"

They turned.

A teenage boy hurried toward them carrying a bag.

Neery's middle son.

Dowson.

"Don't forget me!"

Buloke laughed.

"Were we supposed to know you were coming?"

"I know now."

Buloke slapped him on the back.

"Good enough."

Dowson joined them.

Carlone looked toward the distant road.

Years ago, she had followed Viktor and Buloke toward the quarry without knowing what waited there.

Now she was following Buloke again.

Another job.

Another unfamiliar place.

Another life she hadn't planned.

History seemed to be repeating itself.

But Carlone had changed.

The first time, the unknown had felt like hope.

This time, as the three of them started toward the Capital, Carlone couldn't explain why the feeling in her stomach was different.

Not fear exactly.

Something closer to warning.

Still, she kept walking.