So it was decided that Tex would do the sewing. He disinfected the wound first, and Kennedy hissed through his teeth, which earned him a comment from Slade. “If the sting of alcohol has you sucking for air, son, it’s not a positive indicator of how you’ll hold up when he goes after you with one of those fishhooks.”

Tex thrust one of the curved needles in front of Kennedy’s nose. “There it is. You sure you want me usin’ that on your head?”

By this point, Kennedy’s pride was kicking in. He wasn’t a baby, and he’d drawn a crowd. The newly hired cowhands had rolled out of their cots and stumbled into the kitchen. He’d bet money that any one of the men standing over him could get stitched up without whining. “I’m sure.”

Tex said, “Well, okay, then. I wish I had me some of that Novocain stuff to numb you up, but we used all of it last week, and Wyatt ain’t gone back into town for supplies yet.”

As Tex went to work, Kennedy steeled himself for the first poke. But even so, he wasn’t ready for the pain when it came. “Hold it! Hold it!” he yelled. Then he looked at Wyatt. “Can you give me something to bite down on? And some whiskey. I want some whiskey.”

Vickie sighed. “You’ve watched too many cowboy movies.”

Tex stood aside while Kennedy guzzled down some booze and said, “I don’t reckon that’s a smart idea, son. Alcohol thins the blood, and you’re already bleedin’ like a pig on slaughter day.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kennedy looked around for Wyatt and saw him walking from the sleeping area with a sock in his hand. “What’s that for?”

“For you to bite down on.”

Kennedy swallowed more whiskey, and asked, “Is it clean?”

* * *

The following day Wyatt worked straight through until the sun reached its zenith, doing both his work and his little brother’s. He’d spent the morning transferring round bales to various places on the ranch for easy feeding. The month of May definitely had a foothold in the Cascades, but even though the pastures were now brilliant green, the grass itself still needed more sunlight before it became nutritious enough to sustain the cattle. After making sure the critters were fed, Wyatt decided to get some grub himself and went to the bunkhouse. After slapping together three sandwiches, he sat at the table to wolf them down. While Wyatt ate, Kennedy rolled out of bed with a groan. Wyatt stopped chewing to watch him stand up. The kid walked hunched over slightly.

“You switch bodies with Tex during the night?”

Kennedy slanted him a dirty look. “Make fun. I may be walking like an old man, but I was up against four guys last night, and trust me, they looked worse than I do.”

Wyatt nodded. “I’m sure they did, and with all the surgery taking place in here last night, I forgot to say how proud I am of you. I don’t approve of fisticuffs, and neither do Mom and Dad, but sometimes a man has no choice.”