"Well, little brother."
Caleb stopped.
Martha stood beside him.
Harlan looked older than the man in the photograph, but the confidence in his eyes was unchanged. His coat was expensive, his gloves were spotless, and he carried himself as though every street he entered already belonged to him.
Caleb nodded.
"Harlan."
The older man opened his arms slightly.
"Fifteen years, and that's all you have to say?"
Caleb remained still.
"What brings you to Bitter Creek?"
Harlan smiled.
"Business."
His gaze shifted toward Martha.
Then his smile widened.
"And I see you've acquired something familiar."
Martha felt her stomach tighten.
Caleb's expression hardened.
"Speak respectfully."
Harlan laughed.
"Respectfully? You can't be serious."
Several people nearby began listening.
Harlan gestured toward Martha.
"Do you know what this woman did in Missouri?"
Caleb nodded.
"I know enough to understand why she left."
The older man's expression changed.
Then he laughed again.
"Ah. She's told you stories."
Martha's hands began trembling.
Harlan noticed.
He looked directly at her.
"Still carrying those little papers, Martha?"
She swallowed.
Caleb glanced toward her.
Harlan continued.
"Those records belong to my business. You had no right to remove them."
Martha took a slow breath.
"They're copies of accounts I helped prepare."
Harlan's eyes narrowed.
"So you admit you took them."
She felt frightened.
But then she remembered the sheriff listening without interruption.
The county clerk examining the dates.
And Caleb waiting for her to speak in her own words.
She straightened.
"I copied entries because the figures didn't match the wages actually paid."
Harlan smiled coldly.
"Careful."
Martha looked at him.
For a moment, she was back in the Missouri freight office, standing beside a desk while he demanded that she change a number.
Then she felt Caleb's hand beside hers.
Not gripping.
Not pulling.
Simply there.
She took another breath.
"I won't change what I saw."
Harlan's expression hardened.
The merchants nearby became quiet.
Then he turned toward Caleb.
"She's filling your head with nonsense."
Caleb looked at him.
"Then the records should be easy to explain."
Harlan stared.
For several seconds, neither brother moved.
Then the older man stepped closer.
"You always were a stubborn fool."
Caleb didn't answer.
Harlan looked toward Martha again.
"And you always were ungrateful."
Martha's face tightened.
He continued.
"I gave you work when nobody else would. Food. A roof. A place in a respectable household."
Caleb felt anger rising.
But Martha spoke before he could.
"You paid me to work, Mr. Tate. I did the work."
Harlan stared.
She continued.
"And the roof didn't give you the right to hurt me."
For a moment, the street seemed to fall silent.
Harlan's smile disappeared.
He looked around, aware that several townspeople were watching.
Then he laughed sharply.
"Listen to her. A scullery woman thinks she can disgrace a businessman with stories."
Martha's eyes filled.
But she didn't lower her head.