Page 37

Jesse glanced toward Nate. “You been giving out reports?”

“She’s staying upstairs,” Nate said. “It’s hardly a state secret.”

Eden held up the book. “I thought you might like something to read.”

Jesse eyed the book. “Is it a sermon?”

“No.”

“Good. Nate’s already delivered one.”

Nate rose. “I have patients to see. Miss Whitcomb, call if he needs anything.”

“He’ll be well supervised,” Eden said.

Jesse narrowed his eye. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t begun.”

Nate left before Jesse could answer.

Eden placed the book on the windowsill and noticed the cloth beside his hand. “Did you burn yourself?”

“Barely.”

“May I see?”

“No.”

She took the chair by the window. “All right.”

Jesse waited for her to insist. She opened the book instead.

The back of his hand stung. After a few minutes, he reached for the folded cloth, but his clumsy grip sent it sliding toward the floor.

Eden caught it before it fell. “Here.”

He held out his hand. She passed him the cloth, leaving him to place it where he wanted. The coolness eased the burn.

“Thank you,” he said grudgingly.

“You’re welcome.”

She opened her book again.

“You’re not going to read?” he asked.

“You haven’t asked me to.”

“I thought that was why you came.”

“I came because you asked me to bring the book.”

Jesse remembered making that request through a fog of exhaustion. At the time, he’d meant it as a way to keep her near. He hadn’t considered she might take him at his word.

“What is it?”

“A novel.”