Page 5

“I heard.”

“Then you know this wasn’t some saloon brawl.”

Nate rose slowly to his full height. He had to look up at Bass, always had. Bass, who taught him to cinch a saddle, swing a hammer, bleed the anger out of a fresh cut without letting the hands see him wince.

But this was his room. His patient.

“You can come back,” Nate said, “when you remember whose tools are in this room.” Bass held his stare, and for a breath, Nate thought it might come to shoving, to shouting, to something that would shake the windows.

Then Jesse groaned—a low, wounded sound from deep in his chest.

Bass looked down. Something in him settled, heavy and resigned. “Fine,” he said, turning toward the door. “But if he speaks sense—you call me.”

“I’ll call if you’re needed.”

“That wasn’t my meaning.”

“It’s the meaning you get.”

A low sound escaped Simon, something between a cough and a chuckle.

Bass jabbed a finger toward him. “Don’t.”

“I’m silent.”

“Your thoughts are loud.”

“My thoughts are numerous. Censoring them all would outlast the night.”

Beau moved between them, a hand on each brother’s arm. “Enough. Let Nate tend to him.”

Bass held his ground a moment longer, then bent over Jesse. His voice dropped, rough and private. “You stay with us, Jess. Whatever you saw, whatever they did—you stay first. We’ll settle the rest after.”

Jesse’s eye remained shut. Bass laid his palm briefly on his brother’s hair, then turned and left.

Beau went with him.

Simon finished sweeping the glass into a pan, set it aside, and pushed his spectacles up his nose with a knuckle.

“You owe me words when your throat works again,” he said to Jesse’s still form. When Jesse didn’t stir, Simon’s throat worked. He patted Jesse’s shoulder once, lightly. “I’ll collect.” He was gone before Nate could get a clear look at him.

Then it was quiet.

Nate lifted the spoon. “Alone now.” Jesse’s eyelid cracked open. “I know you prefer a crowd.” The corner of Jesse’s mouth tightened.

Nate slid a hand beneath his neck. Jesse didn’t resist this time. He swallowed the dose with a shudder, face contorting as though it were kerosene.

“Done,” Nate said. “Curse me for it later.”

Jesse’s gaze found his, clearer now, sharp with effort.

“Nate.”

His name, ragged and broken, hit Nate like a blow to the chest.

“Right here.”

Jesse’s forehead creased. “Can’t…”