Most of it had faded.
Enough remained to read one word.
PAID.
Evelyn stared.
Her fingers began to shake.
“No.”
Jonah said nothing.
“This could be anything.”
“Yes.”
“It could be copied.”
“Yes.”
“You could have written this yourself.”
“Yes.”
She looked up sharply.
Jonah’s expression had not changed.
“Then why are you agreeing with me?”
“Because you should doubt it.”
That stopped her.
He continued.
“You don’t know me.”
“You shouldn’t trust a stranger because he tells you the thing you most want to hear.”
Evelyn looked at the receipt again.
“Where did you get it?”
“Your father.”
Her eyes snapped to him.
“You said you knew him.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Jonah looked toward the porch.
“Could I sit?”
Evelyn almost said no.
Then she noticed the sweat along his forehead despite the cold air.
His injured arm hung rigidly.
His horse was not the only exhausted creature at the gate.
She pointed toward the porch bench.
“You can sit.”
Jonah walked carefully.
He lowered himself onto the bench and closed his eyes for half a second.
Evelyn remained standing.
He looked at her injured palm.
“You should wrap that again.”
“My hand is not your concern.”
“Fair enough.”
She held the receipt.
“My father.”
Jonah nodded.
“I worked at Bitter Creek Territorial Bank.”
Evelyn stared.
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“You don’t look like a banker.”
“I wasn’t much of one.”
“What were you?”
“Ledger clerk.”
She looked at his weathered clothes.
“And after?”
“A lot of things.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.”
Jonah leaned back against the porch post.
“When I was twenty-nine, I was hired to copy deposits, loan payments, livestock notes, and mortgage discharges into the bank’s central books.”
“Martin Vale was cashier then.”
“He became manager the following year.”
Evelyn looked toward town as though the man might somehow be standing on the distant road.
Jonah continued.
“Your father came in three weeks before he died.”
“I was there?”
“No.”
“He came alone.”
“He carried a canvas bag with the money.”
“Where did he get twelve hundred dollars?”
“He sold the northern cattle lot.”
Evelyn knew about that sale.
Her father had told her winter losses forced it.
She had believed the money went to feed bills.
Jonah said, “He paid the note in full.”
“I copied the transaction.”
“Vale signed the receipt.”
“The discharge was supposed to be filed with the county recorder.”
Evelyn stared at the paper.
“Supposed to?”
“It never was.”
“Why?”
“That’s what I didn’t understand at first.”
Jonah shifted and winced.
His injured arm pulled against the sling.
“I asked Vale the next day because Hart Ranch was still showing as encumbered.”
“He told me he would handle it personally.”
“And you believed him?”
“I was twenty-nine and needed the job.”
“That is a poor excuse.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn had expected defensiveness.
Again, she received none.
Jonah continued.
“Your father came back four days later.”
“He was angry.”
“He asked why the satisfaction hadn’t been recorded.”
“Vale told him county office was behind.”
“Your father didn’t believe him.”