Beautifully Wounded (The Beaumont Brothers)

by Susan Griscom

“I really did help Mrs. Feeney. Just not across the street. It was more like rescuing her cat from a tree branch that was just out of her reach. But as far as the fire goes, we’ll have to use matches.” That made her laugh out loud, which in turn caused her to clutch at her side and moan. Man, I was doing nothing but causing this poor girl more pain.

  As I dialed Doc’s number, I glanced over at Lana, glad for once that the portable phone had been left at the far end of the bar, which gave me an excuse to walk away to talk.

  “Hey, Doc. Glad you’re in.”

  “What’s up Jack? I was just on my way down there.”

  “Guess I didn’t lie after all.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. Listen. Bring your medical bag with you. There’s a girl here I want you to check out.”

  “A girl? What, you want me to check to make sure she’s a safe lay? Come on Jack, I don’t give physicals. Tell her to go see a doctor.”

  I glanced back at Lana and whispered, “She’s in pretty bad shape, Doc. I think she may have a bruised rib, maybe cracked. She said she was in a car accident, but she’s scared, and doesn’t want any doctors. She won’t say why, but … I think she was beaten up, maybe even raped.”

  Chapter 8

  Lena

  I glanced up to see the frame of a towering man stroll into the bar, the top of his head just missing the door lintel. His stride matched his length, and he eyed me suspiciously as he passed by me. A red-checkered patch at the base of one of the pockets on his rear end caught my eye. A stray curl fell over his left eye, somehow escaping the light brown ponytail, the end licking across the center of his back. Black medical looking bag in tow, I assumed this was Doc. He walked—no, strutted—over to Jackson. Definitely not your average looking soldier boy. To me, he looked as though nature had placed him in the wrong era, thirty years out of his time.

  “Hey Doc, this is Lana. Lana, Jon Doctrill.” I wondered if it was safe to let him examine me. I wanted to run out of there. I started to stand, winced at the pain, and clutched my side. Jackson grabbed my arm to steady me, and helped me to sit back down. “Whoa. Take it easy.”

  “Seems to be getting worse,” I admitted. My voice sounded weak, even to me.

  “Maybe I can help,” Doc said.

  I gave him a wary look, still not quite sure how much I could trust him, even trust Jackson for that matter.

  Doc took a step toward me, and I cowered back a step. “What harm could it do?” Doc tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders.

  “He’s right, what harm could it do?” Jackson said.

  “Lana.” Doc held out his hand and smiled a don’t-worry-I’ll-take-care-of-you smile. His kind eyes put me a little more at ease.

  “Let’s go back to the office for privacy, just in case someone else comes in.”

  My muscles must have started to tighten up because walking now was much more difficult than it had been just a short while ago. Leaning on Jackson for support, I hobbled along to a small room in the back of the bar.

  “Here, sit down Lana.” Jackson gestured toward a small brown leather sofa along the wall before turning to leave.

  “Wait, please stay,” I begged, still unsure of what I was getting myself into. I somehow felt a little safer with Jackson there.

  “I’ll need you to take off your coat so I can listen to your lungs and check your ribs.”

  Remembering I didn’t have anything on underneath my coat, I only unbuttoned the top three buttons. My hands trembled with each small movement.

  “Um … I’ll need more than that,” he said.

  “I uh … sort of left in a hurry, and didn’t really have time to put much on.”

  “Sorry, here. You can cover up with this.” Doc picked up a small wool blanket from the back of the sofa and handed it to me. I didn’t like the idea of baring my flesh to this stranger, but I knew I was hurt, and I didn’t want to go to the emergency room for treatment. Hospitals and urgent care centers asked too many questions, and quite honestly, I wasn’t that great of a liar. At this point, I figured Doc was my only solution. I was grateful when Jackson turned his back. Doc frowned as he gazed at the myriad of bruises on my sides. “Okay, just breathe as deep as you can,” he said, holding his stethoscope against my back.

  I winced as each breath caused a stabbing pain through my midsection.

  “Now lie back, I’m going to check your ribs to make sure you’re not showing any signs of internal problems. It may hurt a bit.”

  He was gentle with his touch as he examined my rib cage, but I cringed anyway when his fingers met my skin. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to allow another man to touch me in any way after Troy, and I had to remind myself that Doc was a doctor, almost. Deep down I knew most men were not like Troy.

  “Sorry, I know that must hurt like a mother fucker.”

  “Jeez Doc, watch your language will you?” Jackson grumbled from the door.

  “Sorry, I mean hurt like a son of a bitch. Ah shit, sorry.”

  In spite of the pain and the embarrassment of the situation, I smiled at Doc’s flustering.

  “You can sit up now,” he said, holding out a hand for me. I grabbed it, and as I sat up and pulled the blanket around me, Jackson turned back around.

  Jackson waited patiently across the room as Doc checked the bump on my head and examined my eye, asking me to follow his finger as he checked my peripheral vision, which I’m pretty sure was fine.

  Doc straightened. “I’m sorry … I have to ask this, but is there any semen residue we need to be concerned with? You know, in case you want to press charges?”

  “Really, Doc? She said she was in a car accident,” Jackson said.

  Doc shot Jackson an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s just the way these bruises are shaped, I just assumed ... sorry, I had to ask.”

  “I’m sure Lana knows the law concerning rape, Doc. Of course they would need a sample of the semen to prosecute. Right Lana?”

  I understood what Jackson was getting at. He was stating the law for my benefit. He didn’t believe my accident story any more than Doc did. Could he really think I was that ignorant? Of course he could, he didn’t know me.

  I smiled at Jackson, and appreciated the way he had stayed with his back to us while Doc examined me. “It’s okay. No, there isn’t,” I said, remembering how Troy had lost his erection in the middle of what he deemed lovemaking. At least that was something I didn’t need to lie about.

  “How long ago did this happen?” Doc asked.

  “Um …” I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t planned on being questioned by anyone. I’d planned on hiding out somewhere quiet until my wounds healed, but now that I realized how badly I looked, I knew that the little bit of money I had would never make it until then. “Early this morning ... I was in a friend's car. We pulled out of the driveway and bam, a truck smacked right into my side of the back of our SUV. We were on our way to visit friends. My friend decided to stay home and get their car fixed so I left on my own. I've been driving for about six hours since, I think.” Disbelief settled over both of their faces, and they glanced at each other, but I continued with my ruse.

  Doc didn’t mention anything else about my condition or the fact that I was completely naked under my coat.

  “Well, an X-ray would be helpful, but rib fractures don’t always show up on X-ray. You don’t seem to be having too much difficulty breathing, which would indicate that there’s not too much damage. I’d say your ribs are most likely just badly bruised, but not too bad. You should avoid taking too many deep breaths, as those will only aggravate your injuries more. You'll want to keep ice on that eye, and some on your head. Jackson can help you to do that.” He glanced at Jackson and he nodded. “I have something for the pain, but you shouldn’t drive while taking it. Actually, you shouldn’t travel anywhere for a while. A little bed rest and you’ll be good as new.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do at that point. I didn’t have any place to go. “Thanks,” I
said, and I dropped my head in my hands to think.

  Jackson cleared his throat and said, “We’ll be out here. Come out when you’re ready.” He nodded to Doc and tilted his head toward the door as they stepped out.

  Chapter 9

  Jackson

  Doc and I walked to the bar, and Doc wiped his brow frowning at me. “She said she’d been driving for about six hours, Jack, which would indicate that her injuries aren’t as bad as they look. Sometimes adrenalin kicks in and takes over and you don’t realize how much pain you’re actually in. I’ve seen it before. She ought to be careful and take it easy for a while. That bump on the back of her head is nasty—so for the next twenty-four hours, no sleeping longer than a couple of hours at a time. You know the drill.”

  “Yeah, I do.” I nodded, remembering the time Brodie and I went snowboarding last winter. Brodie tried to be a little too macho, and went way too fast on a jump. He landed on his head, and for several seconds he couldn’t even feel his legs. The ski patrol had to come and tow him down the mountain. It had to have been the scariest moment in my life.

  Doc placed his hand on my shoulder. “Jackson, what the fuck are you getting yourself into? You know she’s lying, you know someone beat the crap out of her. Most likely a boyfriend or husband, and you know he’s gonna come looking for her. She should be in a shelter for battered women where she can get the proper care and attention she needs, but shit, considering you called me, I guess that would be out of the question. Did you know she doesn’t even have any clothes on under that coat?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I noticed that, and yes, a shelter would be a great place for her, but I know there has to be a good reason she didn’t go to one. A reason she hasn’t divulged yet. She’s scared. I know I’m a sucker for the wounded, but I want to help.”

  “Look, Jack, I know you only have the best intentions, but I have a weird feeling about this. It could have been a rape. A lot of women lie about that and won’t go to the police, but if it wasn’t, then some mean son-of-a-bitch husband did this to her, and getting mixed up in domestic affairs with strangers is bad news. You don’t know what kind of maniac did this.”

  “She doesn’t seem old enough to have a husband,” I said thoughtfully, thinking about Jonah White and Emily Baker who’d gotten married right out of high school and reconsidered. “I’ll find out.” I knew I could. I just needed some time—or rather, she needed time to trust me. I wanted to make sure she felt safe, and didn’t want her to think I'd betray her trust. I wanted her to know that I’d keep my word and wouldn’t call the authorities. I also knew that in rape cases, if this was a rape case, Doc was right. Some women would go the police after a rape, but there were many who wouldn’t. But something told me this wasn’t some random attack. She was more frightened than distressed. I felt sure she was running from someone. “It would be best if you kept this to yourself, okay?”

  Doc shook his head but said, “Yeah, sure.”

  As he turned to leave I placed my hand on his back. “Doc, thanks. I’ll see you later. Come in early. I’ll buy you a beer before you go on tonight.” I patted Doc on the shoulder as we walked toward the door. I wanted to make sure to lock it after he left.

  “Yeah? Fucking A, you can buy me a few. How’s that?”

  “Deal.”

  After shutting the door and locking it, I turned to see Brodie standing on the other side of the bar drying a beer glass with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. I pointed a finger at him about to tell him to wipe the smirk off his face and mind his own business when Lana walked out of the office, tugging her coat tightly together.

  She didn’t make an excuse to bolt as I thought she might. Instead, she smiled with chagrin and went to sit back at the bar.

  “Oh, Lana, this is my brother Brodie.”

  “Hello,” Brodie said still wiping the same glass he’d been drying for the past couple of minutes.

  “Hello.”

  I wanted Brodie to leave, so I gestured my head toward the back, but he ignored me. “Don’t you have some beer to put away back there?”

  “Oh,” he said, feigning stupidity, or maybe it was real. “Yeah. Ah ... nice to meet you, Lana.”

  I poured her more coffee after dumping the cold one out, again.

  “Um ... Jackson.”

  “Yeah?”

  Her eyes connected with mine. “Actually, it’s Lena,” she said, finally admitting to lying about her name. “And thanks. Sorry I lied about my name.” Progress, I thought and smiled, keeping my eyes on hers. God, beneath the black and blue and the swelling, she had gorgeous eyes.

  “You’re welcome, Lena. According to Doc, you need rest and time to recuperate.” I was glad she decided to trust me enough to tell me her real name—at least her first name.

  “I got that. Only problem is I don’t know where that should be. Are there any inexpensive hotels around here?”

  “No. No inexpensive ones, but today’s your lucky day. Well, lucky from here on out.”

  “How’s that?” she asked, sipping the hot coffee.

  “Well, lucky you walked in to my bar, and lucky that just last week the tenant who rented the cottage above my garage moved out, and I haven’t re-rented it yet. You can stay there while you heal if you’d like. It's furnished.”

  She fell silent for a moment then asked, “How much?”

  “No charge.”

  “No. I couldn’t do that.”

  “Yes you can. Please, trust me.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Trusting you isn’t the issue. I want to, but I’m not a charity case. I would like to pay you.”

  “We can discuss that later. For now, you need to be somewhere safe, and my cottage is perfect.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I insist.”

  “I could pay you some now. I don’t have much money, but ...”

  “Tell you what, when your eye heals, and you feel well enough, you can provide me the pleasure of hearing you play some more on my guitar. Maybe join in some night here at the bar. How’s that sound?”

  “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me, nor do I know if ... well, my gut tells me I should trust you. But then, I don’t know. I haven’t done so great in the trusting-men-department lately, so forgive me if I sound a bit skeptical here, but why do you care?”

  “Let’s just say I like the way you played my Dreadnought.”

  Brodie came out from the back room carrying a case of beer. “Don’t you think we should open the door now? It’s getting close to eleven-thirty.”

  He set the case down and started stocking the fridge.

  I looked at Lena as she grabbed her coat closed tighter. “Give us a minute and we’ll be out of here. I’m going to show Lena the cottage and get her settled in.”

  “The cottage?” Brodie frowned then shook his head as he lined the small refrigerator with the rest of the beer, emptying the case. We were close for brothers, not only in age—Brodie being only eleven months younger—but close friends as well.

  “Okay, Jackie,” he said with a bit of a shrill to his voice, sending a shiver down my back. He knew it would irritate me—always had, ever since we were kids when Jenny Casings wrote Jackie and Jenny all over the girls’ bathroom in elementary school. From then on, it was a continuous tease of Jackie and Jenny, J and J, Jackie loves Jenny. It was a small town, and I had to grow up hearing Jackie and Jenny most of my life. It got worse in eighth grade when I had actually given in, and agreed to go with Jenny Casings to the Sadie Hawkins dance. She had a crush on me since second grade, and never quite got over me until Brad Sims came along in high school and swept her off her feet. Thank God. Then she became Mrs. Brad Sims, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. It wasn’t that Jenny was bad looking or anything; she just talked incessantly, which annoyed the hell out of me.

  Although I knew Lena could drive—she’d driven all morning—I didn’t think she should anymore in her conditio
n. So, we left her car on the street by the bar. She didn’t strike me as the type of woman to put up with abuse, but perhaps that’s why she was running. If so, I had to give her credit.

  The guest cottage stood behind the main house on a huge lot my uncle had owned. I pulled my car to the back and stopped in front of the garage door. In order to get to the cottage we’d need to walk up a steep set of stairs beside the garage, and I wasn’t entirely sure Lena would be able to make the climb. I went to offer her a hand up the stairs as she quailed, and I wondered if she cowered out of fear or habit. I held on to her anyway, determined to win her trust, and helped her up the long flight of stairs that led to the front door. To the left of the landing at the top of the stairs our newly installed wood deck balcony graced the front and protruded out above the garage doors. “It’s not much, but it should meet your needs for a few days or however long you need it.”

  Lena almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of the deep, rough bark that came from half way up the stairs as my massive hound dog, complete with drooping ears and loose wrinkled skin, came trudging up with drool dripping from his jowls.

  “That’d be Rufus. He’ll be your best friend if you rub behind his ears. Otherwise, he’ll just lie beside your feet. Though if you’re not careful, he just might lie on top of them, and believe me, he can be quite heavy.”

  “Hi there, Rufus.” Lena let go of her coat, crouched down to the dog and rubbed the loose wrinkled skin around his ears as I opened the door to the cottage. “He’s great, how old is he?” she asked, letting the dog slobber all over her.

  “Ah, he’s about five now. He seems to like you, but if you’re not careful, you’re going to need a bath after he finishes drooling all over you.”

  “Yeah, well, I need a bath anyway, huh Rufus,” she said with a low voice, pouting her lips as she spoke close to the dog’s head, making my fondness for her grow immensely.

  Her coat hung off her shoulder revealing soft looking white skin, and surprise came over me as I realized I was staring. I thought maybe I should reach down and tug it up before Rufus nuzzled it down any further, but then decided to let it go. I had to remind myself to be careful, she was in no shape for what was going through my mind. “He’s a great tracker, but voracious. He eats about ten pounds of dog food a week.”