Every evening, Luke asked himself why in the good Lord’s name he made himself go out and work the docks. On top of everything else, why did he subject himself to the additional torture that was loading and unloading ships, rather than coming home to rest up, in the time he didn’t spend on the water?

Then every evening he came home and saw his mom, and his sisters, and he told himself to suck it up and just make it through another day. The less time he spent at home, the more money he could bring back to it. Just one more day – only, it didn’t bring much comfort when he said it every day.

Luke was in the midst of attempting to fix a hole in his shoe when a knock interrupted him. Within a few seconds, he’d picked himself up to go and open it.

“Uncle Ben?” he furrowed his brow, but quickly pushed the door open wider.

“How are ye? Did ye wanna come in?”

More work. Of course, it was always more work.

Luke scratched idly at the back of his head, threw a glance back into the cottage, and then gave a nod.

“Aye, I can help.”

Balancing himself against the doorframe, he pulled on his (yet unfixed) shoe. Much as he didn’t want to go out again, he didn’t want Uncle Ben getting fined by the damned harbor master either. Luke stepped out, shouted for his mother’s sake that he’d be back soon, and once he’d pulled the door shut, gestured for his uncle to lead on.

A frown twisted Luke’s mouth, well-worn. What was he asking about Lory for, that he didn’t want their mother to know about?

“Why’d ye ask?” he questioned, opting not to answer. He didn’t know how Lory was. Same as she always was, right? Surely she'd have said something if things were any different.

But he hadn’t heard from her, not personally. “Y’ seen her?”

That was a terrible joke. Luke threw his uncle an unamused, please-be-serious look before he realized that he was, unfortunately, being serious.

“She wouldn’t,” she would. It made all too much sense, as much of a shock to his system as it was to hear such a thing. Lory had always been difficult, as far as Luke was concerned, and of course she’d say she was in York and sell herself off at the Diamond Pony instead.

That mental image was burned into his brain now. He felt sick to his stomach.

Luke fell back against the wall like all the air had been knocked out of him. Why, Lory, why? He didn’t even know how to react, except to accept that it was truth and move on. Otherwise he would storm right over there.

“’Course Elijah’s bein’ difficult,” he grumbled, “he’s soft. What’s he expect? T’ men down there to be just as soft on her? She’s lucky she ‘asn’t been killed!”

No! Luke knew plenty of men that frequented the Pony and he didn’t trust a single one of them, especially not with his sister. “How’d ye find out?”

Old Dan Willis. Uncle Ben. Who knew how many people knew about his sister’s exploits? If they could figure it out, so could others, and then… then she’d have no hope for anything else. No respectable man would marry her. No God-fearing ladies would befriend her.

Luke held his open palm to his forehead; a great weight that he struggled not to buckle under.

Lory could have come to him. If help was what she needed, she could have just told him. Did she need the money that bad? Did she think that they needed money that bad, that she had to sell herself just to get it? He could have picked up a few more jobs, there were always men that needed help – but would she have listened?

“I’m sorry ye had t’ find out that way,” said Luke, “if I’d known, I’d’ve…”

But his voice trailed off into nothing, and he shook his head. He would have kept Ben from ever finding out, that’s what he’d have done. Angry as he was at her, he’d have kept it secret, if he’d known.

"I'll take care of it," he assured, straightening his back.