At the Copper Pot, Loretta watched those developments with cautious satisfaction.
She wasn't foolish enough to believe one investigation could make every man honest.
But she knew that clear records made dishonesty more difficult to hide.
And she was determined never again to surrender her ledgers simply because someone with a title told her not to ask questions.
The question of who owned the Copper Pot was finally resolved in early spring.
Abigail Mercer's sister, who administered the widow's estate, confirmed that the mining company had never purchased the cookhouse building or received authority to take possession of its equipment under the circumstances Pritchard claimed.
The property had remained part of the estate.
Loretta's written operating agreement was valid, subject to its actual terms, and the estate representative was willing to complete the contemplated transfer once the outstanding figures were reconciled.
The corrected company account removed much of the financial pressure that had prevented that process.
Loretta had saved some money.
The company owed her additional compensation for verified work.
And the estate agreed to a reasonable payment arrangement for the remaining purchase price.
For the first time, she could see a legitimate path toward owning the place she'd kept running.
When the papers were ready, Elias accompanied her to Samuel Fitch's office.
He waited while she examined each document.
She read carefully.
Asked questions.
And requested clarification whenever a phrase seemed uncertain.
Nobody hurried her.
Nobody laughed when she needed something explained.
Finally, the necessary documents were signed and properly handled for recording.
Samuel looked toward her.
"Congratulations, Miss Loretta."
She stared at the papers.
Then whispered, "It's mine?"
He smiled.
"The business and the property interest being transferred under this agreement are now yours, subject to the recorded terms and the remaining payment obligations."
Loretta began crying.
Elias stood beside her.
He wanted to embrace her.
But he waited.
She turned toward him.
Then threw her arms around him as much as she comfortably could.
He held her gently.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, "I did it."
Elias smiled.
"You did."
She laughed through her tears.
Then looked toward the documents again.
The Copper Pot wasn't simply a place where someone allowed her to cook.
It was a business she could shape.
A home she could protect.
And something she'd earned through work that others had tried to convince her was worth nothing.
When they returned to Red Dog, Thomas had organized a small celebration.