Swiftcurrent Creek [m] Hands 'round my neck, heavenly unfold

His expression remained calm and ever-loving, but privately, he thought — I know what to do. Of course he was seething at the thought of someone else touching her, never mind hurting her. And that it was someone that she knew and trusted (that they'd both trusted, but he tried to keep himself out of this equation) only made it worse.

What he said, though, was, "You don't gotta do a goddamn thing," in as authoritative a tone as he could manage. "Let's get you through this first, okay? We can worry about him later."

Because, as much as Dusty Rose didn't like him right then, he didn't suppose that Everett was dangerous. He couldn't help but think about Slow West's tendency to get a little too affectionate when he was in a particularly good mood. That'd gone away once he found his Shady Grove. Some guys just had too much rabbit and noplace to spend it — although that wasn't an excuse so much as how fucken stupid his brother was. He wished he thought less of Everett's intelligence, right then.