"That Crowe has his hands everywhere."
Before Elias could answer, the door opened.
Silas Crowe stepped inside.
He wore a black coat, polished boots, and a narrow-brimmed hat. Two men stood outside his carriage.
"Mercer."
"Crowe."
They shook hands without warmth.
"I hear your loan is coming due."
"I know when it's coming due."
Crowe smiled.
"The bank is concerned."
"The bank can wait until November."
"Perhaps. But debts have a way of growing."
Elias looked him in the eye.
"So do weeds. Doesn't mean you let them take over the garden."
Henry suddenly became very interested in arranging a shelf.
Crowe's smile vanished.
Then he glanced through the window.
His expression changed.
"Who is that woman?"
Elias turned.
Clara stood beside the wagon, holding a small package.
"She's a friend."
Crowe moved closer to the window.
"Clara Bennett."
Elias stepped between him and the door.
"What do you want?"
"That woman owes me money."
"Then take it up with the law."
Crowe laughed.
"The law is a complicated thing, Mercer."
"So I've heard."
Crowe adjusted his gloves.
"She is the wife of my employee. She has outstanding debts, and I have every right to bring her back."
Elias felt Clara move behind him.
"People don't belong to other people."
Crowe's eyes narrowed.
"You're making a mistake."
"Maybe."
Elias placed a hand on the door.
"But it's mine to make."
Crowe stared at him for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
"Very well. I'll be seeing you."
He walked outside.
Elias hurried after him, but Clara was no longer beside the wagon.
He found her pressed against the wall of the blacksmith's shop, trembling.
Crowe stood in front of her.
"Mrs. Bennett," he said smoothly. "You've caused a great deal of trouble."
Clara could barely speak.
"Leave me alone."
"You have obligations."
"I owe you nothing."
Crowe's expression hardened.
"You owe me everything."
Elias stepped between them.
"That's enough."
Crowe looked at him with cold anger.
"You cannot protect everyone, Mercer."
He turned and walked toward his carriage.
Clara clutched Elias's arm.
"He's going to hurt you."
"Then we'll find a way to stop him."
He did not know how.
But he knew he would not abandon her.
Not now.
Not ever.
The lawyer's office stood above the pharmacy at the far end of Main Street. Samuel Whitmore was a thin, elderly man with silver spectacles and a neatly trimmed beard. He had practiced law in Wyoming for nearly thirty years and had earned a reputation for being honest, even when honesty made him unpopular.
He listened carefully as Elias explained Clara's situation.
When Elias finished, Samuel removed his spectacles.