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guess you can have the weekend. I’ll expect you out by Monday morning.”
    Reese nodded and stood. Shock was setting in, but a woman in the other room speaking to Mr. Leffler and asking about money in her account stopped her.
    “How much will I be getting to live on each month, and when will I get it?”
    Mr. Jenness looked irritated all over again, but Reese was knowing some irritation of her own. She had never heard of a bank holding someone’s papers.
    “Mr. Jenness?” Reese pressed, deciding not to leave until she had an answer.
    “At the end of each month,” he said, thinking this was the end of it until Reese sat back down. He stared at her in surprise until she spoke.
    “I’ve been an indentured servant for more than four years, Mr. Jenness. I do what I’m told with only a roof over my head, two dresses, and food to show for it. I have nothing, and you are telling me I must leave my home. The end of the month is days away. What exactly am I to live on until you decide to pay me?”
    The bank manager had not expected her calm logic. She had seemed so compliant when she first came in. He had not expected her to stand up for herself.
    “Yes, well,” he said quietly, seeing that he might have been a bit overzealous. “I can give you money today, it’s the twenty-sixth, and I’ll do so on this day each month.”
    “How much am I to receive?”
    His mind scrambling, Mr. Jenness listed a number that was quite low, but Reese didn’t argue. She knew it wasn’t enough to live on but thought she might have said enough at the moment. However, she had another thought that had to be expressed.
    “And where are the papers I am to sign concerning this agreement between the bank and myself?”
    Mr. Jenness sat up as though he’d been stung. “I see no need for such papers.”
    “No?” Reese asked, almost gently. “Mr. Zantow just dropped dead over his worktable, leaving me at the mercy of this bank. I want some documentation stating the terms we’ve agreed upon today.
    “And,” Reese went on, not caring anymore if she said too much, “I want Mr. Leffler to witness it.”
    Mr. Jenness’ face flushed with anger, but Reese didn’t back down. Not even when he stood and stomped his way to the teller’s counter and had a few words with Mr. Leffler.
    That Mr. Leffler was uncomfortable with the whole situation, entering the office and casting stunned glances at his boss, was lost on Reese. It was finally hitting her like a blow to the heart: She was where she’d always been.

     
    “Doc,” Reese called as she opened his door. “Are you home?”
    “In the back, Reese.”
    Reese went to the small room where he prepared poultices and remedies and found him on a stool up close to the table, his head bent over a clear glass bowl.
    “How are you?” he asked when she walked in.
    “I’ve been better,” she said quietly.
    “What’s going on?”
    Reese explained what had just happened, her voice calmer than her heart.
    “The bank retained your papers,” Doc MacKay said in wonder. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
    “That makes two us. Unfortunately Mr. Jenness would not agree, and he’s the man in charge. He seemed completely delighted with the idea.”
    “And what exactly will you be doing for the bank?”
    “Well, I’ll clean the bank twice a week and go every day for a list.”
    “Reese,” the doctor replied, working to stay calm, “that makes no sense. A bank has no need for a woman to be on staff to clean.”
    Reese shrugged, not able to explain.
    “I did stand up to him,” she finally put in.
    “How so?”
    “I made him put in writing that I would get money to live on. And he paid me for the first time today.” She banged her hand against the table for emphasis. “And Mr. Leffler witnessed it!”
    Doc MacKay laughed until he asked how much she was being paid. The amount Reese named tested the doctor’s emotions all over again. He kept his mouth shut, however, and simply asked