Jonah obeyed.
The ride into Bitter Creek took an hour.
People noticed them immediately.
Of course they did.
Evelyn Hart had been town entertainment since the foreclosure notice became public.
Now she arrived driving her father’s old wagon with a bearded stranger in a sling beside her.
The mercantile porch fell silent.
A woman carrying flour stared.
Two men by hitch rail whispered.
Evelyn kept her eyes forward.
Jonah noticed.
“You know them?”
“Unfortunately.”
“They always stare?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She gave him a look.
Jonah seemed genuinely confused.
Then his eyes moved across her body and back to her face.
Understanding appeared.
Anger followed.
Evelyn hated that most.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Get angry for me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
He looked out the other side.
“I can dislike rude people independently.”
“That sounds suspiciously like anger for me.”
“I have enough to share.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
They went to doctor first.
Jonah’s shoulder was badly dislocated and his wrist sprained, not broken.
The doctor reset shoulder while Jonah bit down on a folded leather strap.
Evelyn stood outside because the sound made her stomach turn more than calving ever had.
When Jonah emerged pale and sweating, she asked:
“Better?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He stared.
“You are vicious.”
“You ignored it for two days.”
“Three.”
“Worse.”
They went to county recorder.
No mortgage satisfaction.
Exactly as expected.
But Samuel’s ledger and Vale’s receipt were enough for the clerk to become concerned.
The county judge was away until Monday.
Three days.
Evelyn and Jonah walked toward wagon.
Then a voice called:
“Miss Hart.”
Martin Vale stood outside the bank.
He was fifty-two, silver-haired, clean-shaven, always dressed as though dust understood not to touch him.
Evelyn had hated him since childhood without knowing why.
Now she knew.
Vale approached.
His eyes moved to Jonah.
For the first time, his polished expression cracked.
“Reed.”
Jonah stood very still.
“Vale.”
“You’re difficult to kill.”
The words were quiet.
Evelyn heard.
Her entire body went cold.
Vale immediately smiled.
“A figure of speech.”
Evelyn stepped between them.
“You remember me, Mr. Vale?”
His attention shifted.
“Of course, Miss Hart.”
“I imagine so.”
Vale looked at the sling.
“An unfortunate accident?”
Jonah said:
“I’ve had worse.”
Vale’s smile disappeared.
Evelyn took Samuel’s receipt from her satchel.
Not the original now; the clerk had made a certified copy.
She held it where Vale could see.
His face did not move.
That scared her more than surprise.
“I believe your bank made a mistake.”
Vale looked at the paper.
“Old receipts are sometimes misunderstood.”
“Paid in full seems plain.”
“Your father’s loan was subsequently renewed.”
“Show me.”
“Bank records are private.”
“It is my loan according to you.”
“You may request copies.”
“I am requesting.”
“Through appropriate process.”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“Monday morning I’m asking Judge Talbot to stop foreclosure.”
Vale smiled again.
“You’re welcome to.”