Stables (Black Gulch Ranch #2)

3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dixon

The shit always happens in threes.

This morning it was a ten year old girl who was thrown around by the neighbor’s son.

Lunch brought a seventy-three year old woman who had been slapped by her granddaughter. What a worthless caretaker.

With help like that, no wonder so many choose to hide away in their homes.

“Twenty-four year old female presenting with head, chest and leg pain in bed three.” Maggie’s lips thin as she stares down at her tablet. “The admitting clerk said that it was possibly the ex-husband.”

My fist clenches.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

Irrational anger grows inside of me. I should know by now that I can’t do a damn thing about anything.

It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

There used to be a time where assholes could be served justice with a rope and a tall tree.

Maybe I need to head up to the ranch for the weekend and go for a ride. I haven’t seen Mason since his baby was born last month.

I swear my brother has all of the luck. The chances of him finding someone like his wife Lori was a million to one.

And my newest nephew Jack is the cutest combination of them both.

I haven’t forgotten the twinge of jealousy that I felt when I held the newest McCullough in my arms.

There was a time I thought Mason was foolish for not wanting more with his life.

Now, I’m starting to wonder if I’m the idiot. Passing up chances at a family to become a doctor used to seem like the right choice.

But as I near forty, I’m starting to realize that there are more important things than success.

That’s probably why patients like this get under my skin.

Some miserable piece of garbage is out there destroying what should be an amazing thing.

I feel badly for the woman, before I’ve even met her.

“Have they arrested the scumbag?” I grit out between my teeth.

Maggie shakes her head. “I don’t think the cops know. Do you want me to call Sheriff Rowland?”

Knowing Wade Rowland, he has less patience about this stuff than I do.

“No. Once I get her assessed, I’ll find out for sure, and we can go from there.” I grab my tablet and head towards the curtained off area.

Maggie grabs my arm, pausing me. “She’s pretty worked over. Please go easy.”

I catch the worry that darkens her features.

Years of rotations in this very clinic have revealed some of her own secrets. I know she still bears scars from her first husband.

Neither of us talk about the stitches I had to put in her that night so many years ago.

She’s as tough as a badger now, married to a kind man, and fighting for every girl who comes through the doors.

If the world was a better place, it wouldn’t need warriors like her.

But I’m glad she’s here.

With a quick nod, I try to tamp down the frustration that boils within me.

I might take a vacation. Some distance from the constant pain and anguish I see daily.

One deep breath, and I pull back the veil guarding bed three.

She’s tiny beneath that hospital gown that drapes over her like a blanket.

Tangled brown hair presses against the paper covered stretcher, highlighting the angle of her cheek.

It’s when she turns to face me that the anger courses through me. One big blue eye widens when it focuses on me, the other is too swollen and purple to see. Her bruised lip quivers as she looks up.

Damn it all to hell. I want to find the man responsible and beat him twice as badly.

“Who did this to you?” My voice has more gravel than I intend. Clearing my throat, I fold myself onto the low rolling stool next to her.

I know I’m a big guy, I don’t want to scare her. She’s had enough of that for one day.

“I’m sorry. I’m Dr. McCullough. I’m here to help you—” I check for her name. “—Charlotte. Can we go over your injuries?” Glancing down at my tablet, I start noting the visible lacerations.

Sometimes it’s easier for them to talk when I’m not looking at them.

But I find myself wanting to see that sapphire iris fix on me when she speaks.

“The worst part is my chest.” Her fingers flutter, drawing my gaze to her ribs.

A quick check of her monitor shows her regular heartbeat.

“I need to listen to your lungs.” I throw up a thumb to point over my shoulder. “Maggie is right on the other side of the curtain. Do you want me to bring her in?” I get that it can make women uncomfortable with a man in the room so soon after, well, going through hell.

To my surprise, she shakes her head. “I’m okay, doc.”

“This might be cold.” I give her a slight warning before pressing the stethoscope against her. “Take a deep breath.” I take my own suggestion. Getting worked up won’t do anything.

When she sits up for me to listen to her back, discoloration marks her spine as well.

I bet she’s barely five feet tall. Whoever tossed her around is a monster.

“Sounds good. Lean back. I want you to point to where you have the sharpest pain.” I’m back to towering over her.

She squeezes her eyes shut. I hope it’s because of the bright lights and not me.

“Here,” she whimpers when she touches her abdomen. “And my leg, and my cheek.”

“On a scale of one to ten, can you rate your pain level for me?” My finger poises over the empty box on the tablet.

The pink triangle of her tongue darts out and touches the split in her lip. “Um. Probably a six or seven.”

I’m skeptical it’s that low, but mark it down.

Fuck. There’s a part of me that wants to gather her up like a puppy and hold her until the ache goes away.

I try to be gentle. Yet she still winces when I touch her. Her knee is nearly purple, matching her swollen eye.

“I’m ordering some x-rays. I don’t think your lip will need any stitches, but it will be sore for a few days. Did he, um, hurt you anywhere else?” I always dread that question.

Tears trickle down her temple, but she shakes her head. “He tried. Libby saved me.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her. You’re both very brave.” As severe as her injuries look, they could have been much worse. “Is there a chance you could be pregnant?”

Her blue eye opens and locks on me. “No chance.” She drops her head to the mat and drapes her forearm over her forehead.

I pull the curtain closed behind me and let out a long breath through the whiskers of my mustache as I approach the main desk.

Maggie looks up from the computer and gestures at the screen. “She’s a tough cookie. Says here this is her third visit because of him.”

My knuckles pop when I tighten my fist against my thigh.

She has a ribbon of steel beneath the porcelain.

“Someone needs to show him how to keep his hands to himself,” I mutter.

Maggie’s eyebrows raise. “Ready for me to call Wade? Or are you going to be a white knight?” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

My mustache twitches. “I can only do so much.” It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’ve taken justice into my own hands.

But those skeletons are best left in a closet. I don’t want any more.

Although…getting the chance to seek revenge on Charlotte’s behalf sounds appealing.

Charlotte . She’s beautiful beneath the bruises.

Fuck.

“I’ve called radiology. Can Libby come in to stay with her afterwards?” Maggie is an expert at changing subjects, which I appreciate.

“That’s fine. We’re empty besides her. Guess it was the friend who ran him off? That girl deserves an award.” Would it be strange if I offered cash?

Probably highly inappropriate, but I’m tempted.

Maggie snorts. “You don’t know Libby. That’s tame for her. I’m surprised she didn’t spray his ass with buckshot.” She turns away with a snicker and starts tapping on the screen of her tablet.

I should do my charting too, while Charlotte is in x-ray.

Why do I keep thinking of her by her name? It’s always been a bed number.

Easier to keep track.

It’s less personal.

When I push the door to my office closed, I lean back in my chair and rub my palms over my face with a groan.

I can’t save the world.

Mason had the right idea when Lori and Sophia were taken. He eliminated the problem.

Well. He and Ford swore it was an “accident.”

Of course it was.

I like to think I’d have done the same. Remembering the fear in Sophia’s eyes after they were rescued keeps me up at night.

My niece and sister-in-law were both threatened and kidnapped. Meanwhile, I sat in Helena with Sawyer playing administrator on a contract bid.

What kind of man does that?

It’s like I have an itch under my skin.

So, I’m going to do something.

Dragging out my phone, I pull up Sheriff Wade Rowland.

“Dix? How’s it going?” Wade answers before it rings.

There are perks to all growing up in a small town.

“Wade? I think I need you to come down and take a statement. I have a D.V. patient.”

With big blue eyes and hair the color of mesquite.

Charlotte.

The hell?

He lets out a long sigh. “Well, shit. Yea, I’ll be there. What the fuck is wrong with people?” There’s a clunk sound.

Bet it’s his feet hitting the floor.

“I ask myself that question daily. Thank you.” I don’t say goodbye.

We’ve known each other too long for that.

I’m just about done with catching up on my record keeping when there’s a light knock.

“Doc? Radiology’s on the phone for you. And the sheriff is here.” Maggie calls through the hollow wood.

With a grunt, I leave the cubicle and grab the handset from her, while tossing a wave at Wade.

“This is Dr. McCullough.” I hold up three fingers towards the sheriff. It shouldn’t take much longer than that.

Wade stands patiently, leaning over the counter until I finish getting the details from the x-rays.

Damn. She did get knocked around.

I can feel my teeth grind as I hang up the phone.

“That good, huh?” Wade smooths his copper-colored beard while watching me.

“Almost as painful as your shaggy hair. Going for a ponytail with that red mane?” I clap him on the shoulder. “Let me talk to her, then I’ll send you in.” I lean closer and drop my voice. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

He grins and tilts his broad brimmed hat back on his head. “Of course. I missed the abuse.”

When I pull the curtain far enough to step through, I’m greeted by three sets of blue eyes. A blond woman, taller than Charlotte, and a toddler, both look at me warily.

“I got the results back from your x-rays.” I turn to see Charlotte watching me with a pained expression. “Did Maggie give you a pain killer?” It twists my gut seeing her bite her lip when she moves.

“She did. I think it’s better.” Charlotte takes a deep breath and holds it long enough to shift herself.

Finding the same stool as earlier, I sit low so that I’m not higher than any of them.

“You have two hairline fractures in your ribs. We can wrap your chest, but the truth is, you’ll have to take it easy until your ribs mend. There’s extensive bruising around your knee, but fortunately, given your state, there isn’t anything worse. The swelling should go down with ice, rest, and elevation.” I glance up to see the baby staring at me.

Offering her a small smile, I’m happy to see her return it.

Maybe I’m not too scary.

Charlotte’s mouth thins. “I’ll do my best, doc. But no promises.”

The blond woman reaches out and puts her hand on Charlotte’s foot. “I can come by and help.”

“No, Libby. You’ve already done so much. You have work to do too.” Charlotte reaches down and fluffs the light hair of the little girl. “We got this, don’t we Paisley?”

There’s a part of me that wants to offer my help.

I can’t. Fix. Everyone.

Libby laughs sarcastically. “Yea, right. Feeding twenty-two horses?” She turns and tickles Paisley. “You better get strong, kiddo. Your momma’s gonna have you packing hay all week.”

“Hay!” Paisley shrieks with a giggle.

She reminds me of Sophia as a baby.

But my niece never saw her mother get attacked. My brother loved his wife.

Just as much as he loves his new wife.

My jaw aches from clenching it, biting back the words I want to offer.

White knight.

Why can’t I just save one?

“The horses are on plenty of pasture. I just have to make sure the waterers are working. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Charlotte gives a lopsided smile past her swollen lips to her friend.

“Sheriff Rowland is here to make a statement.” I interrupt their banter. “Do you have any questions before I send him in?”

Charlotte turns, her uninjured eye looks me up and down before she shakes her head. “Thank you, doctor,” she says quietly.

I stand up, but stop before leaving. “If you think of any questions later, feel free to call the clinic.”

My chest burns from holding in the feeling of futility.

There needs to be a band of vigilantes, riding across the countryside, doling out justice. It’s so damn frustrating seeing people get victimized over and over.

“All set, Dix?” Wade turns and flattens his hat until it’s down over his eyes.

When I nod, he takes a deep breath and pushes past me to talk to Charlotte.

“Doc?” Maggie starts to talk to me, but I ignore her and stalk into the closet I call an office.

Shutting the door, I lean against it until the back of my head hits the thin wood panel.

Why do I feel like I’m treading water, but on the verge of drowning?