Chapter 5: Terms

Russell left the dock with his ring still in his hand.

I watched his back until it was gone, and then I walked into the shed and slammed my palm down on a bar clamp.

It was the wrong thing to hit.

The jaw closed on three of my fingers.

"Ow," I said, with feeling.

Ben was across the shop in an instant.

He threw the lever, and the jaw sprang open.

He took my hand in both of his and turned it to the light.

My fingers were white, and then red.

"Nothing broken," he said.

"I know."

"You hit a clamp, Maggie."

"I was aiming at his face."

"His face wasn't here."

He didn't let go right away.

His thumb rested against my wrist, over the pulse, and I felt it jump.

I took my hand back and put it behind me.

"How bad is it?" I asked. "The loan."

He let out a long breath and leaned on a sawhorse.

"My father borrowed against the yard six years ago, when the roof went."

"It was a small local bank. They sold the paper to somebody in March."

"To Russell."

"To a company in Delaware. It's his."

"He did it to reach me."

"He did it to own something you love," Ben said. "That's different."

I thought about that.

"I'm not going to let you handle this," I said. "It's my husband. It's my mess."

"It's my yard."

"It's my husband."

We looked at each other for a second.

"Fine," he said. "What are you going to do?"

"Eat dinner."

The Superior House was the old hotel on Front Street, with a brass lobby.

Its dining room looked out on the lake.

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