Stables (Black Gulch Ranch #2)

7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dixon

My last shift of the week starts before daybreak. Working twelve hours on, twelve off, leaves me a week at a time to do whatever I want.

I need to head to the ranch. Mason mentioned that he’s hired a couple of new guys, but doesn’t quite trust them to work on their own yet.

In a roundabout way, I suppose that is him asking me to come ride range with them to feel them out. Not that I blame him.

After finding out one of his own men was working to sabotage the operation, it makes me worry about everyone he has on staff.

Well, most of them.

I grew up with Ford. I know he and Mason were always closer, but I’d still trust that man with my life.

Now that I think about it, I have before.

It’s too bad that Blue and Wade don’t still run cows there. They’ve both moved on to bigger and better things, I guess.

Shit, I still want to call Wade and find out what happened with that asshole who hit Charlotte—Char.

Why do I care?

It has to be that little girl and her big blue eyes. She reminds me of Sophia as a baby.

Not the heat of Char’s thigh pressed against my arm. Or the determined set of her jaw.

Without a doubt, it’s concern for Paisley.

I’m sure of it.

All day I waffle back and forth about calling to check up on her ear infection.

If it’s bad enough, Char would call…right?

“Dr. McCullough, the sheriff called and said he’s bringing someone in to get checked.” Maggie drops the chart of my next patient in the cubby at the end of the desk for me.

Maybe it’s the ex?

“Did Wade say what it was?” Picking up the clipboard, I check over the vitals of the seventy-three year old man in bed three.

He only has a cut on his leg. Should be in and out pretty quickly.

“Something about a bar fight?” Maggie sighs and moves into the first bay to begin prepping it.

Damn. I was kind of hoping it’d be someone else.

I’m on my second to last stitch when I hear Wade’s voice down the hall.

“Hey, Maggie. Where do I take him?” Wade calls out. She must have directed him. The sound of a pair of footsteps and the rattle of handcuffs getting tightened around the stretcher rail drifts through the curtains.

Smoothing the last of the medical tape over the gauze, I give my current patient a big smile. “Looks like you’re all set. Maggie will be in with your discharge instructions. Make an appointment with your regular doc to get these removed in a few days.” Snapping off my gloves, I toss them into the garbage before heading back to the main desk to wash up.

Wade is leaning over the counter, his wide brimmed cowboy hat sits back far enough I can barely see the sheriff badge fixed to the front of it.

“Dixon. How’s it going today? Brought you a fun one.” His hand brushes down the wild red strands of his beard.

“Yea?” I glance down to see Maggie’s mouth twisted. “What’s up?”

“Bar fight in my favor,” he chuckles. “Just happened to be the guy I was looking for last night.”

I can feel my mustache twitch as I try to keep my features neutral. “The one that sent that woman in to us?” It’s a struggle to keep my tone level and low as I fight the surge of anger that swells in my chest.

All I can see in my head is Char wincing in pain while she tried to stay out of my way last night.

Wade nods and shifts his body to glance back at the curtain. “Seems he stayed at a buddy’s and then the two of them were day drinking. Val called about an hour ago saying she had a trouble maker. I was expecting Ford, but was mighty surprised to have this little rascal pop up outta his hole.” His teeth flash in a broad grin that slips into a fast frown.

“Know who he is?” He flips a driver’s license across the formica to me.

Matthew Simmons. The tiny pic shows an arrogant pose of a narrow chin jutting towards the camera under a dark mop of hair.

I shake my head while pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. “Nope. Should I?”

Pushing the slip of plastic back towards Wade, I pick up the Simmons chart and flip through it.

Glass in a head wound.

Hard to feel bad for him.

“That’s Judge Simmons’ kid,” Wade says in a hushed tone. “Every charge on him gets dropped.” Wade clicks his tongue against his teeth with a grimace. “And there’s a line of them that never saw the light of day.”

Fuck. Of course.

My jaw ticks. “So then…he walks?”

Wade’s lips thin. “Probably by tomorrow afternoon.”

All I can muster is a grunt as I brush past him and throw the curtain open.

Blood mats the dark hair I saw in the picture, but it’s shorter now.

The smirk is the same.

“Well, Mr. Simmons, it looks like you saw the bad side of a bottle today?” I drop his papers on the end of the stretcher and step closer. “Let’s take a look at that scalp.”

“The asshole just got a lucky shot.” He winces when I peel some of the matted clots apart. Pieces of broken brown glass stick up in slivers around a jagged slash.

Unfortunately, it isn’t very deep or serious.

I don’t miss the bruises on his knuckles. “Looks like you got him back?” Rolling out the suture set, I pump up the rolling stool to get a good seat.

“Huh?” He tries to turn to watch me.

“Your hands. Please don’t move.” Or do, and let me make this hurt. I’d be okay with that.

He picks up his handcuffed arm and flexes his fingers, showing off the scuffs across the back. “Nah, I did that yesterday.”

My fist tightens around the tweezers as rage boils within me.

He had a beautiful woman and an adorable baby, and these are the choices he makes?

Filth.

Would anyone notice if I stabbed the instrument into the top of his skull?

Probably.

“You got in a fight two days in a row?” I don’t go gentle pulling a wedged shard. In fact, I may have let it dig just a bit before removing it.

His feet point and buck, but he doesn’t cry out.

I guess I’ll have to try harder.

“No, I did this against my truck. I got ran off from my woman by some crazy bitch with a gun.” The cuffs clink when I jerk a sharp edge into the skin.

“Yours, huh?” My pitch drops.

A pinch hits me low in the gut.

Paisley and Char with their big blue eyes flicker in my mind.

The frailty of them both causes some crazy drive to protect them to surge within my limbs.

My hands shake with the heat of fury as I try to finish.

“Yea. We’re just going through a rough patch, but I’ll get her back. As long as people stay the fuck out of my business.” He lets out a long groan as I pinch the wound together and smear adhesive over it.

“What makes you think she wants you back?” It’s a stupid question, but I can’t stop myself from goading him.

When he snorts, I’m tempted to take the medical tray and cave his skull in.

“She’s lucky to have me. No one else would want her.”

His words send ice down my spine.

Before I can stop myself, my fingers lace under his jaw and around his throat, pinning him to the stretcher.

The stool rolls on its own until my nose is inches from his. “You’re wrong,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “I do. And if you touch her again, I’ll make sure to break you so badly, you’ll have to beg someone to wipe your ass for you,” I growl before snapping off my gloves and kicking my chair away.

My chest heaves as I fling the curtain out of my way and stalk past Wade.

I’m sure he heard the whole damn thing, but he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

Maggie’s wide brown eyes follow me before I disappear into the office.

What the hell did I just do?

The rush of my pounding pulse races through my ears.

Char isn’t mine. I have no claim on her or her daughter. But some piece of me has decided to throw down the gauntlet that I’d die to keep her safe.