“Shit.” The wound was crusted with dried blood, dirt, and fibers from his filthy shirt and the equally filthy, cheap towel. Infection couldn’t be far behind. She slipped her fingers under his shoulder and found no exit wound. Deja vu. But this time the wound wasn’t as deep as Aznar’s lung wound had been and she should be able to get this bullet out.
Picking up a large square of sterile gauze, she soaked it with an antiseptic soap and sterile water and then began cleaning the wound.
Zeke, who’d lapsed into a sort of pained semi-consciousness after glaring at her mere seconds before, jerked and howled as she manipulated the wound. He struck her with a flailing fist, catching the side of her jaw. He screamed again, since he’d hit her with the arm on his wounded side.
Stepping away from the table, Fee rubbed her jaw with the back of her forearm. She was lucky the wounded man hadn’t been at full strength, or she would’ve been on the floor.
Bad news was she’d have another nasty bruise on the side of her face to match the last one that had only recently fully healed.
More good news—there was no way Tara hadn’t heard Zeke’s scream of pain.
Bo reached across his brother’s body, grabbed her arm, then shook her. “Why’d you hurt Zeke?”
She shrugged off his hand. “I was cleaning the wound,” she said. “You don’t want the wound to get putrefied, do you?”
Bo looked at her as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.
Use your nickel words, Fee.
Fee heaved a sigh. “The wound is at risk of becoming infected.” She pointed to the remnants of Zeke’s shirt around the wound. “His shirt is dirty. The towel used to stop the bleeding was dirty. I need to clean the wound and the area around it thoroughly before I remove the bullet.” She pulled some scissors from the cart and began to cut away more of Zeke’s shirt.
“That’s why we came here.” Bo’s wild-eyed gaze fixed on her every move. “Me and Abe don’t know how to dig out bullets.”
Pulling off her dirty, bloody gloves, Fee threw them into the red bag where she’d tossed the towel and Zeke’s shirt. Bo’s suspicious gaze followed her every move as she went to the sink, cleaned her hands, and then pulled on clean gloves. Returning to her patient, she ignored Bo’s narrowed eyes and began to clean the area beyond the wound.
Abe stomped back into the room. “The other bitch is gone.” He moved to Bo’s side and glared at her. “Where is she?”
Fee didn’t look up from her task. She tsked under her breath. Her patient was a pig. His skin was as dirty as his clothing. She had to toss the gauze in the red bag and use another to get the layers of grime off. All sorts of dirt and bacteria would be in the wound track along with the dirty bullet and whatever else these two had introduced into the wound while applying pressure.
Zeke, like Aznar had, needed a hospital for infection control. Her patient would soon be coming down off whatever combination of drugs already in his system. There was no way the man hadn’t self-medicated after being shot. Her little clinic was set up for everyday illnesses, well-baby and pregnancy care, and basic triage on trauma cases—and not equipped for drug addicts in withdrawal with a gunshot wound and the potential of septic shock.
She must’ve said some of her thoughts out loud, because Bo snarled, “He ain’t goin’ to a hospital. Now answer Abe. Where’d the other bitch go?”
“Don’t know. Now shut up and let me concentrate.” She stared down Bo as he moved to strike her. “You hit me, who’s going to help your brother?”
“Just watch your mouth, woman,” snarled Bo as he drew back his hand and used it to fondle the barrel of his gun.
Fee ignored his threat, even though her heart had leapt into her throat at the anger in his tone. “Wash your hands and your forearms—use the soap by the sink—and put on some gloves. You’re gonna have to help me by holding your brother down while I remove the bullet.”
“You ain’t giving the orders around here, bitch.” Before she could back away, Bo reached across his brother’s now fully unconscious body and tugged on her shirt pulling her almost on top of her patient. “I am.”
Fee took a breath and let it out. Staring into his crazed eyes, she enunciated, “Let. Go. Of. Me. You’re shedding dirt and skin cells all over his wound. Do you want him to get sepsis? He could die.”
Yes, sepsis would take a while to take hold. But she wouldn’t allow her patient’s condition to worsen that far. She’d fight to save Zeke despite him being an asshole drug cooker and addict. But Bo didn’t need to know that.
Bo stared, a frown on his face. “What-sis?”
Fee sighed. “Blood poisoning.”
Bo grunted and lessened his grip.
Fee pushed his hand off her shirt, tore off the now-soiled gloves, and moved to the sink to don another pair of gloves. “He’ll need antibiotic IV therapy for a while even if—and that’s a big if—I can clean all the dirt, the bullet, and any other foreign matter out of the wound track. Do you understand?”
“No. You fix him. Just you.” Bo continued to stand sentinel as she resumed cleaning the area around the wound.
“I’ll do my best. But infection is a high probability and he could require a hospital.” She turned her back on Bo and opened the drug safe Abe had noticed. She took stock of her anesthetics.
“We’ll just come back then,” Bo said. “You can fix him again.”
“No. I don’t have a lab.” Fee sighed and shook her head. Why was she wasting her breath arguing with a meth-head? She looked over her shoulder. “What’s Zeke on?”
“What do ya mean?” Bo muttered, his gaze bouncing around the room.
“What drugs are in your brother’s system? I need to use a local anesthetic and give him a pain killer. I’m concerned about drug interactions.”
“He took some meth earlier,” Abe called from the doorway where he’d retreated when Bo had gotten aggressive with her. “We all did. Quality control, ya know?”
“Great,” she muttered under her breath as the man verified what she’d already guessed. She was lucky they hadn’t gotten more violent with her.
To be safe, she’d use a local only and not risk a pain killer. She had no clue how much meth was in his system—or if he’d mixed it with anything.
“Oh, and if you’re thinking of taking me with you, don’t. It would be one of the worst mistakes you’ll ever make.” She injected the local around the entrance wound with multiple pricks. “My man is a former Marine, Spec Ops Marine, and the last time someone took me he blew shit up to get me back.”
“I’ll do what I want,” Bo said. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, bitch.”
Fee ignored Bo’s posturing. The man thought he was an alpha-male, but Fee had met the real thing. Bo was a poor excuse for a man, hopped up on drugs and his own sense of self-worth. He was a pathetic waste of oxygen and testosterone. Still, he was dangerous, a time bomb with a faulty fuse due to his coming off a drug high. He could easily rape or kill her.
Judging the local had taken some effect, she injected small amounts of anesthetic into the exposed subdermal layers to help deaden as many nerve endings as possible. Probing for the bullet wasn’t going to be fun for the patient or her. She hated causing people pain, even criminal assholes like Zeke.
“Did ya hear what I said?” Bo shouted.
Pulling on every bit of grit she could muster, Fee turned an icy gaze on him. “Yeah. You obviously didn’t hear what I said. So I’ll spell it out. I’ll help your brother the best I can. Then you’ll leave. If you’re stupid enough to take me, you’ll be dead … sooner or later. Believe it. Now, since you didn’t clean up as I asked, stay the hell away from my patient. You’ll contaminate my sterile field.”
Obviously more concerned about his brother than angered by her backtalk, Bo stepped away from the table. His posture read as pissed-off. She figured she’d pay for her words later, but right now, he needed her, so he’d leave her be.
“Lordy, lordy,
she’s a feisty one, ain’t she, boss?” Abe stressed the word boss.
“Shut the fuck up, Abe.” Bo turned and glowered at his partner in crime. “Or I’ll shut your mouth for you.”
As Fee worked, she noted the stare down which Bo eventually won. Defeated for the moment, Abe snorted and then moved to the reception area where he paced back and forth like a caged creature. He was getting more and more agitated. God, he was a bomb with a shorter and shorter fuse.
Abe’s savage, dark-eyed gaze never left her, even as he retraced his steps time and time again. Then he stopped, lifting his head as if listening. “Bo, I heard something outside.”
Fee stopped probing and stifled a gasp. She spotted movement past one of the reception area windows visible from her position in the exam room. Luckily, Bo and Abe’s backs were to that particular window.
“Go check it out,” Bo ordered. “Take care of whatever it is.”
Abe ran from the reception area like a hound on the scent of a fox.
Bo eyed her closely. “Why’d you stop. What’s wrong?”
It had to be Tara outside. Had she already called for help? Though help in this neck of the woods could be over an hour away. Elk City wasn’t big enough to have a police force or even a town constable. The Idaho County Sheriff’s office covered the area and it was a huge area to cover.
And why in the hell was Tara luring Abe out?
Ever hear of divide and conquer?
Was that even a good idea? Could Tara even take Abe down without alerting Bo?
Fee faked a cough to the side and then refocused on what she’d been doing. “Zeke’s wound track is more irregular than I’d expected.”
Which was true.
“Dammit, what I wouldn’t give for a portable digital X-ray machine right about now.” Fee kicked the cart in a not-so-make-believe fit of pique. The noise was loud and jarring, keeping Bo’s attention on her and what was going on in this room. The noise even startled the unconscious Zeke.
Tara popped up at the reception room window and gave Fee a thumb’s up sign. She must’ve gotten the drop on Abe. The thought relieved Fee’s tension immensely. However, eventually, Bo would realize his friend wasn’t coming back.
Deal with that hurdle when you come to it.
Right. Fee tossed the bloody probe on the cart. “I’m out of clean probes. I need to sterilize the ones I’ve used.”
“Do it.” Bo leaned over his brother, totally ignoring her warning about contaminating her sterile field. “Why’s he still asleep?”
“Not asleep, but unconscious.” Fee rinsed off the probes with alcohol and distilled water and then placed them in the autoclave. “He’s in shock. The wound was traumatic to his system. The pain added to the stress. Stress causes production of adrenaline and cortisol which eventually results in post-adrenaline drop. He’s fighting a fever also. The human body tends to shut down under any one of those circumstances. The combination, even more so.”
Bo grunted. “Will he be okay?”
“With care. He needs a hospital. I can only do so much.” And that was the truth.
Thank God, Bo was fully focused on his brother, since Fee could see Tara carrying a very limp Abe in a fireman’s carry past the reception area window toward the back of the clinic.
Tara turned her head just before she passed out of view and mouthed, “Stall,” then winked and was gone.
Stall? That meant even now SSI, local law enforcement, and Tara’s fellow rangers could be on their way. The situation would end soon—one way or another. There wasn’t one thing she could do about any of it except keep moving forward.
Once again Fate had taken control out of her hands. Obviously control was an illusory concept. Humans could only do what they could do to stave off disaster from one moment to the next.
Right now, she’d focus on the disaster lying on her exam table.
****
Main Lodge, Sanctuary
Trey sat on one of two leather sofas that flanked the fireplace of the Lodge’s great room. He held an untouched beer.
“What do you mean Fee went to the clinic?” Trey glared at his brother’s wife and the ladies who’d accompanied her on the shopping trip. All the ladies, but Fee.
“Just what I said.” Keely sat on the arm of the other sofa, next to her husband who glared at Trey.
“Why?” Trey spat out. “She was supposed to spend the weekend here.”
“Well, you’ll be thrilled to know, she went to get her car, pack her stuff, and move into a suite in the Lodge. So you can frick-fracking thank me and the others for talking her into it. She was sort of freaked out that she woke up in your bed—alone—this morning.”
“I had to go out on a fucking intruder call with your husband.”
“I know. Ren left me a note. We explained the situation to Fee.” Keely grinned. “Tara confirmed the intruder alert was real since she’d heard about the asshats killing a bear and y’all chasing them into the national forest. Tara even drove Fee to the clinic since it was on her way home, saving us all an extra round trip.”
“Who in the fuck is Tara?” Price asked, from one of the club chairs that made up this particular seating area. “I would’ve helped my baby sis get her car and shit.”
“Tara Nightwalker. She’s a park ranger. Keely knows her,” DJ said, sitting on the sofa between Trey and Tweeter.
Keely nodded. Ren grinned and said, “Tara’s a great addition to the local ranger contingent. She’s also a hot shot. Missoula, Montana trained. You’ll meet her, Price, when you take your wild lands fire training. She’s one of the instructors.”
Price grimaced and took a healthy gulp of his beer.
DJ added, “If you want to help, Price, you can take Fee’s packages up to her room. She bought a shit ton of stuff since she needed warmer clothing and some other girl-type things.”
Price set his beer down, then got up and walked to the piles of bags the girls had dumped in the entryway. “Tell me which are hers and I’ll lug them up the stairs.”
Trey cut him off. “Leave them. They might be going to my place.”
Price turned and frowned. “Does my baby sis know this?”
“Not yet.” Trey’s lips firmed. “But I’m hoping to convince her.” He turned to Keely and then sought out each woman in the shopping party. “Thanks, ladies, for smoothing my way with Fee.”
“You’re welcome.” Keely started giggling and looked at DJ. “Did we call it or what?”
DJ laughed. “Yeah, good thing Elana didn’t take the bet.”
“As if I would.” Elana snorted. “I know Trey and the type of man he is too well—plus, I got the impression Fee really wants to be persuaded.”
Trey grinned. “I take it Fee won’t be surprised when I ask her to live with me?”
“Nope.” Pia sat on the sofa with Keely and Ren while her mother was in the other club chair. “The gals pretty much told her you wanted her to move into your place.”
Trey would’ve asked how the topic had come up when Ren’s phone rang. His brother answered it, a laugh in his voice. “Ren Maddox.”
Ren listened to whoever was on the other end and as he did so, his face grew grim. “How long since you got away, Ranger?” The amusement in his voice was gone, replaced by a tone that matched the grim look on his face. He grunted and nodded. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Call me if there’s any change in the situation. No, you did the right thing. Out.”
“Well, the lack of safety and security on Fee’s clinic is now a proven fact.” Ren headed toward the Lodge’s side exit off the back hallway.
“What the fuck is going on? Is Fee hurt?” Trey and the others ran to catch up.
“Not yet. But she does need a rescue.” Ren exited the Lodge. “Let’s get the Hawk out and ready to go.”
Price ran ahead to the helicopter hanger next to the garage area. DJ and Tweeter joined him. The three of them would get the chopper operational as quickly as possible.
Trey stuc
k with his brother. When they entered the hanger, the other three were already pushing the chopper out of the building.
Ren keyed in the code and used the palm plate to open up the armory which was located in the back of the hanger.
“Who has Fee?” Trey asked as he pulled weapons out for himself, DJ, Tweeter, and Price.
“Some fucker is holding her at gun point inside her clinic.” Ren checked over his weapon of choice. “Tara said the men who invaded the clinic are the same ones who killed the bear this morning and who we ran off our land. The rangers we called in after we found the fuckers’ camp had a gun battle. One of the asshats is hurt, Tara reported.”
“Fucking cocksuckers. If they hurt Fee…” Trey trailed off as he handed off some weapons to DJ, who’d joined them.
“If they hurt her, we’ll deal with them,” Ren assured his brother as they moved to the chopper. “Tara got away and called the sheriff, her fellow rangers, and us. Now she’s going to try to reduce numbers by luring one of the three men outside.”
Price had run toward them to help with the weapons and extra ammo and overheard the last part. He cursed. “Crazy fool woman. What’s she thinking?”
DJ eyed him. “She’s thinking of reducing the size of the clusterfuck by one armed and dangerous douchebag. She’s doing her damn job.” She checked over the rifle Trey had picked out for her. “I talked with her a bit at Ma’s. Her training is every bit as good as mine, but she got hers in the Air Force. So she’ll do the job.”
“Good,” grunted Trey, happy that Fee had someone taking her back. But it should’ve been him. “Goddamn-fucking-son-of-a-bitch, if I hadn’t left her this morning, we’d still be in my bed and she’d be safe.”
Trey leapt into chopper’s cabin, strapped in, and put on a headset. Ren and Price joined him, while DJ took the pilot’s seat and Tweeter, the co-pilot’s.
“Forget regrets. Let’s just bring her home, brother.” Ren gripped Trey’s arm and squeezed as DJ took the Hawk up and headed for Elk City at top speed.
An Ill Wind Page 21