Elizabeth stood immobile, looking between them. She saw the bruise rising on Liam's cheekbone, dark against his pallor, and the fear and anger in his eyes.

"Liam has always been a good boy," Mr. Witherspoon said in a conciliatory tone. "Isn't that so, judge?"

Nathaniel had been angry, but controlled. Now he swung to face the judge, and his restraint was clearly at its breaking point. "He's been stealing from my traps, I caught him red—handed. There's laws against stealing, still on the books, I'm assuming. Either you'll do your duty or you won't. Which is it?"

The judge held up a hand in a placating gesture. "This is a first—time offense, after all—”

“I tell you, this ain't the first time my traps have been tampered with. And that's not the least of it." He paused, his stare as harsh as his tone was quiet. "You know it ain't."

"Are you talking about the theft you alleged—"

Elizabeth flinched as she saw Nathaniel's color rise.

"Father," she said, cutting them both off. She stood, immobile, knowing that every eye in the room was focused on her. Liam was looking at her as his salvation; the judge and Mr. Witherspoon were mystified at her interruption; Julian and Kitty wore their suspicions openly. Even Nathaniel, whose face she knew as well as her own, was looking at her with doubt and impatience and something like anger.

"What is it?" the judge asked. "Did you want to speak for the boy?"

"No," said Elizabeth, and then, faltering, "I mean to say, I can't speak for him or against him." She took in Liam's hurt stare, and decided that she dared not look at Nathaniel. "However, it would be appropriate to give him the chance to tell his version of what happened. Liam, will you talk to me about this?"

The boy's mouth worked in a terrible grimace; Elizabeth thought he was close to tears.

"If you won't defend yourself and the evidence is against you, then there's nothing I can do for you," she said gently. "If you have been stealing, then you must face the consequences."

"You're awful eager to have one of your students punished, Lizzie," added Julian. "I'm not convinced he's done anything."

"Pardon me!" interjected the judge with considerable irritation. "But that is for me to decide!"

"I'm not eager to have him punished," Elizabeth corrected Julian sharply, ignoring her father. "But the law must be served, must it not?"

"How do we know the charges are true?" asked Julian, casting a glance toward Nathaniel, who stood silently watching the exchange. "He comes here with fantastic stories."

"Are you calling me a liar?" asked Nathaniel in a tone as reasonable and measured as if he were asking for a cup of tea.

"I'm asking for proof." Julian said, just as calmly.

"There's proof to be had," Nathaniel said, tossing the beaver onto the rug at Julian's feet. "If you're interested in what's been took from me and from mine. If you want to hear about traps fooled with and stores broken into and folks being shot—come up to Hidden Wolf with me now and ask Otter how he got a bullet in his leg. If you're interested in the truth."

Elizabeth was so shocked at the news of Otter that she spoke before she could stop herself. "Are you accusing Liam of this?" she asked and then realized, too late, that she sounded as if she were doubting Nathaniel's word.

Nathaniel blinked slowly. "Not all of it," he answered without turning toward her. "Not of the shooting."

"Exactly who are you accusing, then?" asked Julian.

"Right at this moment I am accusing this boy of stealing a beaver from a line I set up on the stream we call Little Muddy. I come upon him not an hour ago. Look, you'll see his hands are still bloody."

"What exactly do you want me to do with him?" asked the judge when he had examined Liam's hands. "Sentence him to gaol?"

"That would be a start," said Nathaniel, leaning now on his rifle with an air that was half amusement and half irritation.

"No!" The boy's head snapped up. "Won't you speak for me, Miz Elizabeth! Tell them I been coming to school every day and working hard. Ain't that so?"

"Surely not gaol—" Elizabeth began.

"Enough," said the judge over the boy's renewed protests. "I find Liam Kirby guilty of poaching trap lines and fine him five dollars sterling and a week in custody—"

"Fi' dollars sterling!" howled Liam. "That pelt ain't worth five dollars!"

"—but due to his age and the first—time nature of the crime, I suspend the sentence and stipulate that the fine can be worked off or paid in trade directly to Nathaniel Bonner. I hope that will satisfy all parties."

The judge was immediately drawn into a loud discussion of the law with Liam and Julian, but Elizabeth's attention was still focused on Nathaniel. Otter, Elizabeth thought. He's worried about Otter. He never would have let himself go that way otherwise. She knew she must look away, or let everyone in this room see those things on her face that they must not yet know about her. She dropped her gaze.

"There's just one more thing," Nathaniel said, directing himself to the judge.

Liam was suddenly quiet, as if he thought Nathaniel might demand something even more horrendous than a five—dollar fine.