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Jesse swallowed. “Five minutes.”

Nate nodded and withdrew.

Eden rose. “I’ll give you privacy.”

“No.” The word came out faster than he’d intended.

She paused.

“You can stay.”

“All right.”

She moved her chair farther from the bed and opened the novel. No questions. No remark about how generous he’d been to let his own brother through the door.

Bass came in and stopped short.

His hat hung from one hand. Dark circles marked his eyes, and for once, he didn’t seem to know where to put his feet.

Jesse braced for the look that would tell him his brother had given up hope.

Bass cleared his throat. “You look like something the coyotes dragged home and decided wasn’t worth eating.”

A laugh escaped Jesse before he could stop it. His ribs punished him immediately.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“Then improve your demeanor.” Bass came closer. “Heard you’ve been giving Nate trouble.”

“Someone has to.”

“That part of you seems healthy enough.”

Jesse glanced toward the closed door. “You haven’t ridden out?”

“Not yet.”

“Bass.”

“Whit and the marshal are handling it.”

“You promise to let them?”

Bass set his hat on the chair. “I’ll give them time. If those men come near this family again, I won’t wait for someone to send me permission.”

Jesse could live with that. At least, Bass wasn’t charging off today.

His brother reached toward his shoulder, then stopped. The hesitation hurt worse than the burn on his hand.

Jesse moved his left hand across the blanket.

Bass took it.

For years that hand had been the one pulling Jesse upright after a fall, hauling him across a creek, passing him the reins when Pa decided he was finally old enough to ride alone. It gripped his fingers now with the same familiar strength, careful of the bruising.

“You scared us,” Bass said.

“Didn’t mean to.”