Page 105

“She’s married to Bass. I imagine she’s had plenty of practice.”

Eden sat beside the bed and offered him a lemon drop. He took one with a shaky hand. The notebook lay on the table, but she left it there.

“You went out?” Jesse asked.

“To send a telegram to Laurel.”

“Your brother’s wife.”

“Yes. I need to hear how Josiah is from someone living with him now.”

Jesse was quiet for a moment. “When she answers?”

“I’ll decide what to do.”

He nodded. She had grown accustomed to his resisting that answer or trying to talk her out of whatever he feared. This time he simply accepted it.

“I told Tater I’d like to speak to Whit, too,” she said. “I remembered more about the man who visited Papa.”

“Good.”

She gave him a searching look. “You aren’t going to tell me to leave the investigating to the men?”

“Would you listen?”

“No.”

“Then I’d be wasting perfectly good breath.”

She laughed, and his answering smile lingered.

“I’ve missed that,” he said.

“What?”

“Your laugh, when there ain’t somebody bleeding or shouting in the next room.”

Eden looked down at her hands. “I don’t believe I’ve done much of it lately.”

“Well, you ought to. I can make myself ridiculous if it helps.”

“You’ve been doing a fine job without trying.”

“That’s an unkind thing to say to a sick man.”

“You’ve told me you’re tired of being treated like a sick man.”

He considered that. “Caught me.”

They sat in a companionable quiet while the last of the afternoon light shifted across the floor. From the street came the rattle of a passing wagon. No gunfire, no running boots. Eden hadn’t realized how much she wanted an ordinary hour until she had one.

Jesse lifted his left hand from the blanket. “Eden?”

She laid her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, warm and certain.

“I’ve been thinking about what Bass said.”

“Should I be worried?”