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“I noticed.”

“Love ‘em. Can’t stand ‘em hovering.”

“Then I’ll stay over here.”

He watched as she returned to the chair. She took her notebook from her reticule but left it closed in her lap.

“You write things?”

“When I need to remember them.”

“Then write this. I don’t want a bride.”

“I’ll put it at the top of the page.”

A weak breath escaped him. She suspected it would have been a laugh if laughing didn’t hurt.

“Can you be quiet?” he asked.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“Show me.”

She opened the notebook and made a show of pressing her lips together.

The minutes passed. Outside, wheels rumbled over the street. From the front room came the clink of a spoon against a cup.

“Piano,” Jesse said.

Eden raised her pencil. “What about it?”

“Stopped.”

“Did Izzy stop playing?”

“No. Shouldn’t stop.”

“Who said that?”

“I did.”

She wrote his words exactly, without supplying an explanation.

“Peter had a red king,” he whispered.

She recorded it.

“Spade on corner.”

Eden held her pencil ready.

“Silver tooth laughed. Boots too clean.”

“Do you remember the man’s name?”

Jesse’s fingers knotted in the sheet. “No.”

“That’s all right.”