Graham flopped down in Easton’s wheelchair, making himself comfortable. “The real questions is, does she know what he looks like under the beard?”

“Would you two get out?” Easton glared at them. “We’re fine—”

“Clearly,” Graham spoke up, grinning broadly.

“—so please leave us alone. River needs rest.”

“Do I?” River arched an eyebrow.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Zoey’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses.

“There’s three of them now.” Easton grunted, dropping his head back onto the stiff hospital pillow. “It was bad enough when it was only him.”

River needed rest, but as she smiled at the playful banter, it occurred to Easton that there was something she needed more than rest. Sometimes family was the one you were born into. Sometimes family was the people you kept close, the people who mattered. Keeping her tucked to his chest, he turned to the family he had chosen.

“Want to hear about our first date?” he asked them. “A marmot fell in love with me.”

For a man who needed the people he cared about to be safe and happy, River’s soft laugh against his neck was everything.

• • •

River really didn’t want to lose her pinky toe. So far, the process of saving it hadn’t been pleasant.

The first step had been rewarming her partially frozen toe, during which River had been blissfully asleep. The next part was a series of wraps, topical creams, and cleaning off dying skin that River refused to watch. It was enough knowing what was happening. She didn’t need to see it. The physician in charge of her case promised the increasing pain of the process was a good sign. The more nerve endings and blood flow restored to her toes, the better.

Easton had offered to stay with her, but some things a person didn’t want witnesses to.

River’s nurse was cleaning her foot when a voice spoke up from the door. “That’s disgusting.”

River had been staring intently at the wall, but she turned her head.

Bree stepped into the room, giving her a once-over. “You look terrible.”

River waited for Bree to cross the room, hugging her. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I feel like you’re going to break my already broken ribs. Don’t squeeze so hard.”

“How are you? How’s Jessie?”

Pulling a stool to the side of River’s bed, Bree watched River’s foot in fascination. “Better than you. Your toe is—”

“Nope, nope, nope. Do not tell me. I don’t want to know.”

Bree chuckled. “Trust me, I should be taking stock footage on this. It’s a hundred times worse than the torture barn.”