"I do not move back."
Peter's eyes flicked toward her.
Samuel frowned.
"Then how's this supposed to work?"
"Where interests overlap, we work as equal partners from Black Pine."
"Yes."
Samuel gave a bitter laugh.
"So, this is about Cole."
Hannah's grip on the reins tightened.
"This is about me."
Samuel opened his mouth.
She cut him off.
"Nathan never asked me to come here."
That stopped him.
Peter's face changed.
Hannah looked at him.
"He knows Black Pine may lose half its range if Mercer calls the note."
Peter swallowed.
"And he still didn't ask."
"No."
Samuel said, "That's foolish."
Hannah looked at him.
"Maybe."
Then she added, "Or maybe he understands the difference between needing someone and owning the right to ask."
Samuel looked away.
Peter stayed very still.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Peter turned toward the house.
"Come with me."
Samuel looked at him sharply.
"Peter."
But Peter was already walking.
Hannah dismounted.
She tied Daisy to the hitching rail and followed.
The house smelled the same.
Coffee.
Cold ashes.
Wool.
A trace of bacon fat from breakfast.
Her old chair was still beside the kitchen table.
Hannah did not sit in it.
Peter led them down the hall to their father's room.
The door had barely been opened since his death.
Dust lay across the dresser.
His boots remained beneath the bed.
His coat still hung on the peg.
Hannah stopped for half a second, then kept going.
Peter knelt beside the desk.
The old oak piece had three drawers on each side and a shallow center drawer where Elijah Whitaker kept pencils, seals, and important letters.
Peter pulled a key from his pocket.
Hannah noticed.
"You've had that?"
Peter nodded.
Samuel said, "What are you doing?"
Peter unlocked the bottom drawer.
Inside were ledgers, folded contracts, and two canvas envelopes.
Hannah felt her stomach tighten.
Peter reached beneath them.
He drew out a single folded receipt.
Not old enough to belong at the bottom.
The paper was cleaner, recently handled.
Peter held it, but did not give it to Hannah.
His fingers trembled.
Samuel saw.
"What is that?"
Peter said nothing.
Hannah stepped closer.
"Give it to me."
Peter looked at her, then at Samuel.
Finally, he handed it over.
Hannah unfolded the paper.
Her eyes moved once across the writing, then again.
Calvin Mercer's signature sat at the bottom.
A livestock sale.
17 head.
Date stamped in June.
Hannah's chest went cold.
She pulled another document from her satchel.
One of her father's copied death reports.
Same cattle numbers.
Same brand series.
Reported dead in March.
Sold in June.