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Another knock.

Jesse held out his hand toward Eden. “Come away from the doorway.”

She moved beside his bed, heart thumping.

The sound of breaking glass shattered the quiet. Men shouted in the front room. A chair scraped across the floor, followed by the pounding of boots on the porch.

“Stay here,” Simon ordered, already moving.

A gunshot cracked outside.

Jesse jerked against his pillows. “Bass!”

Eden laid a hand on his shoulder. “He’s with Whit. Let them handle it.”

He looked furious enough to argue, but a new sound caught her attention: a scrape of wood at the far end of the narrow hallway.

The back door.

Nate had barred it when the men arrived. Now the bar lay on the floor, and a wet boot stepped through the opening.

Eden’s breath stopped.

A stranger entered, his dark coat dripping onto the boards. He had a silver tooth near the front of his mouth and the unhurried smile of a man who expected others to be afraid of him.

Frank Crowley.

He smelled of damp tobacco and peppermint.

The clinic’s front room was in an uproar. No one there had seen him come through the back.

“Miss Whitcomb,” he said. “Move aside.”

He knew her name.

Behind her, Jesse went rigid. “Crowley.”

The man’s smile sharpened. “Good to see your memory returning, Pickett. Shame it couldn’t have waited another week.”

Eden backed toward the washstand. The water pitcher stood beside a folded cloth. Beyond Crowley lay the open back door; beyond that, the alley. There was nowhere else to go.

“Bass!” Jesse shouted.

“Rusk gave your brother every chance to be reasonable,” Crowley said. “Now he gets to see what refusing costs his family.” Crowley lunged toward Eden.

She seized the pitcher and flung it at him. It caught his shoulder, sending him into the washstand. Water spilled across the floor, and the pitcher broke against the wall.

Crowley lunged and grabbed for her wrist. His fingers closed around her wrist. Eden twisted free, tearing her sleeve against his grip.

Jesse hurled the cup from his bedside table. It struck Crowley high on the cheek. The man staggered, and Eden shoved the chair between them with all her strength.

Crowley tripped over it.

Bass appeared at the hall entrance.

He took in the scene: the overturned furniture, Eden pressed against the bed, and Crowley trying to find his footing. Then he dove into the intruder and brought him down.

Whit was there a heartbeat later. Crowley dragged a knife from his coat, but Whit pinned his arm while Bass held him to the floor. The blade clattered onto the boards.