Page 7 of Stables

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.

---