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“Are you leaving?”

“No.”

Jesse closed his eye. Nate sat down, near enough to call if he needed him, far enough to leave him alone. For once, his little brother knew better than to say another word.

Chapter Three

Nate stayed.

“I said get out.”

“I heard you.”

“Then go.”

“No.”

Jesse opened his good eye. “I’ll hit you.”

“You already hit Simon.”

Jesse searched the blank space where the memory ought to be. “I did?”

“Square in the jaw.”

“Improve him?”

Nate’s laugh sounded tired, but familiar. “Couldn’t say.”

Jesse tried to lift his right hand. His fingers dragged against the blanket. The arm did little more than twitch.

Nate caught the movement. “You’re not getting out of bed today.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“We’ll see.”

“Help me up now.”

“No.”

Jesse gripped the sheet with his left hand. Nate had spent years bending over books, determined to be a doctor. Now his little brother stood beside the bed, giving orders Jesse couldn’t disobey even if he wanted to.

“You’re enjoying this.”

Nate stopped folding the cloth in his hands.

“All those years wanting folks to call you Doc. Must suit you fine, having your own brother here to order around.”

Nate said nothing.

Jesse knew he ought to stop. He went on anyway.

“Can’t walk out on you. Can’t even hold my own—”

The chair scraped hard against the floor.

Nate leaned over the bed, bracing both hands against the mattress. His face was pale beneath the lamplight.