He turned toward the door.
Bram remained.
He leaned close to Loretta.
"You should've kept cooking."
She felt herself trembling.
But she didn't lower her eyes.
"That's what I've been doing."
Bram's expression darkened.
He looked toward Elias.
Then he kicked the leg of a nearby chair.
The chair scraped across the floor.
"Enjoy your last night."
He followed Pritchard outside.
The room remained quiet.
Then Daniel Mercer stood.
"That's not right."
Thomas nodded.
Loretta looked toward the miners.
For the first time, she didn't see a crowd of men waiting to be fed.
She saw workers who had their own reasons to question the company.
And she wondered whether the Copper Pot had become more important to them than anyone realized.
After the men left, Loretta sat beside the stove.
Her hands were shaking.
Elias brought her a cup of tea.
She accepted it quietly.
For several minutes, they listened to the crackling fire.
Then she spoke.
"I can't pay nine hundred dollars."
Elias nodded.
"I know."
She looked toward him.
"If they close the kitchen, I have nowhere to go."
He remained silent.
Loretta continued.
"I've saved a little money. Not enough for travel and lodging through winter. And I don't know another town that would hire me."
Her voice trembled.
For a moment, Elias wanted to tell her she could come with him.
He wanted to promise that he'd never leave her without shelter.
But he stopped himself.
He had only returned to Red Dog two days earlier.
She barely knew him as the man he'd become.
And he didn't want his affection to become another obligation placed on her shoulders.
Instead, he asked, "Would you like me to help find out who actually owns the building?"
Loretta looked up.
She considered the question.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
Elias smiled.
"Then that's what we'll do."
The following morning, they visited the small territorial records office in Red Dog, where an elderly clerk named Samuel Fitch maintained property documents, business notices, and correspondence from the county courthouse.
Samuel had known the Copper Pot's former owner.
He remembered her as a difficult woman to argue with and an excellent cook.
When Loretta explained the company's claim, he frowned.
"That's odd."
She looked toward him.
"Why?"
He opened an old ledger.
"The widow's estate was being administered through her sister in Helena."
Loretta nodded.
"Yes."
Samuel continued.
"Last I heard, the cookhouse building hadn't been sold."
Elias leaned forward.
"Can you confirm that?"