The Devil You Know by Jo Goodman

Pancake land. It’s my responsibility.”
    â€œIs that why you rode out to find me?” Israel asked. “Your land? Your responsibility?”
    â€œI rode out because Annalea asked me to. I brought you back because it was necessary.”
    â€œThe right thing to do?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMy brother would approve.”
    There was no mistaking the derisive smile on that battered face, and Willa remembered that he’d said his brother always did the right thing. His brother, the saint. Well, she was not that, and she doubted it could be said of the other Mr. McKenna. “What is your brother’s name?”
    â€œQuill.”
    â€œQuill,” she repeated. “I’ve never heard it before.”
    â€œIt means cub. That’s what he is. The cub. My little brother.”
    â€œAnd is Quill in Indiana with your parents?”
    His lips twisted briefly in a scornful smile that further distorted his features. “Illinois. You know my parents are in Illinois.”
    She did not pretend that she had made a mistake, and she did not apologize for trying to challenge his story. Instead, she turned to Cutter and directed him to take the tray to the house. “And tell Zach to make a poultice for Mr. McKenna’s eye and bring it here.”
    Cutter darted a sideways look at Israel and then leaned over, picked up the damp eye pad lying on the bed beside him, and pressed it into Israel’s hand. “You can put that back over your eye now that you’re done eating. Swelling’s about the size of an egg, and the color’s the same purple shade of sky just as night’s creeping in. It’ll be full-on black in the morning.”
    â€œThe tray?” Willa said, pushing it in Cutter’s direction. “Now?”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” he said solemnly, too solemnly. He practically telegraphed his wink and nod. “Right away.”
    Willa waited until he was gone before she sighed. “He’s not wrong, you know. About the size of the swelling or the color.”
    Israel placed the pad over his eye and held it there. “He took some pleasure in telling me.”
    â€œI know.” She stood, pushed the table back, and then helped him lie down.
    â€œHe did it because he likes you.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œI mean that he’s sweet on you.”
    â€œI knew what you meant.” She adjusted the sling, tucked the blankets, and then looked him over. “Odd for you to say, though.”
    He shrugged then clenched his jaw against the pain. After several long seconds, he slowly released the breath he was holding and closed his eye. His lips parted around a curse but he did not give it sound.
    â€œHurts some, does it?”
    His breath hitched on a short, almost inaudible laugh, and he grimaced. “Some. Yes.”
    Willa wagered he had never paid much attention to his ribs. He would be a fool not to now. She pulled the chair closer to the bunk so that when she sat, her knees touched the thin mattress. She leaned forward, resting her folded forearms on her thighs. “I can’t say this easy,” she said quietly, “but it needs to be said. You were sorely abused today, and I don’t know how it will end for you. I’m not a doctor, and it never occurred to me that you would want me to send for one, but if you—”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAll right. I don’t pretend to know the extent of your injuries. I know what I can see, and I know what can be done about that, but there’s things I can’t see and wouldn’t know what to do about if I could. You took some hard knocks to your head, and you have a couple of knots under your scalp that might be something or nothing. You have not said anything about your head, so maybe it doesn’t hurt as much, or at least any worse, than your shoulder or your ribs or your eye or—”
    â€œOr my knee,” he said. “My knee’s