Page 23 of Stables

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 afew 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.

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