The Marriage Contract(45)
What-if questions would do no good here. She had to deal in facts—facts she wouldn’t know until the doctor showed up.
Since there wasn’t much she could do, she called downstairs to have someone bring a bowl so she could start cleaning him up.
The door opened a few minutes later to reveal Emma. She shut it carefully behind her and crossed to the bed, every move efficient. She’d always been like this, to the point where being in the same room with her always calmed Callie down because Emma always seemed perfectly in control of her environment, even when she wasn’t in her kitchen domain. “Micah says this fiancé of yours is in a bad way. I brought ice.”
Ice. Of course. She should have thought of that herself. “Thank you, Emma.”
“No need to thank me. Let’s get this boy cleaned up.” She didn’t show an ounce of fear or worry as she looked Teague over with a critical eye, but no doubt she’d seen worse. When her father’s men were injured and brought back here, someone had to be capable and in control while they waited for the doctor to show up. Nine times out of ten, that task fell to Emma.
Callie filled the bowl with water and returned to the bed to find Emma scooping the ice into a cloth and folding it up. She glanced up. “Let’s get the blood off his face and then I’ll hold the ice while you do the rest.”
The woman’s no-nonsense tone calmed Callie’s racing thoughts. She could do this. One thing at a time. She dipped a washcloth into the water and started cleaning away the blood on Teague’s face. The swelling was alarming, and she hoped to God that nothing was broken. He groaned a little with each contact, but didn’t wake.
Emma placed the ice over the left side of his face. “Just keep breathing, Miss Callie.” She hesitated. “We appreciate what you’re doing—the sacrifice you’re making.” She took Callie’s hand and set it over the ice, and then stood. “I’ll go make sure the boys don’t give that doctor any hassle.”
Callie watched Emma go, her heart in her throat. If she’d needed the reminder of why she was doing this, it was embodied in Micah’s mother and the other people like her. People who depended on the Sheridans to keep them safe.
She took a deep breath and went back to cleaning Teague up, working her way down his throat and over the parts of his skin not covered by clothes. By the time the door opened to reveal Dr. Harris, she had most of the blood gone.
Dr. Harris was a wizened little man who looked like a goblin from Harry Potter, a comparison she’d come up with when she was younger and never been able to shake. He closed the door softly behind him, and got right down to business. “What can you tell me about how this happened?”
“I don’t know.” No, that wasn’t strictly the truth. She took a deep breath, trying to still her frantic thoughts. It was hard, harder than she could have dreamed, because all she could focus on was the fact that Teague was hurt and they needed to do something. “He was dumped intentionally in front of me. He’s been beaten, but I don’t think he’s been tortured.” She’d just seen him this morning, and…Her heart clenched. It didn’t take long to torture someone. It was something that could be drawn out, certainly, but there were rough and dirty methods that didn’t require too much time.
She really wished she didn’t know that.
Harris moved to the other side of the bed and rolled up his sleeves, every inch the calm professional. “You’ve gotten him cleaned up and started with the ice. Good. It makes it easier to see the damage, and will help with the swelling.” He disappeared into the bathroom and she heard him washing his hands. Callie made an effort to keep breathing, which was difficult with dread trying to choke her. He reappeared and went to work, prodding Teague’s face in a way that made her wince.
He looked up. “If this is too difficult…”
“No, it’s fine.” She trusted the doctor with her life, but she wouldn’t leave him alone with Teague. Micah’s words still echoed in her head, threatening to make her jump at shadows. It was one thing to know that some of the men didn’t approve, and completely another to hear him saying they should leave Teague to his fate. She wasn’t about to admit to them that Ronan’s death had altered the landscape so much that her marriage was vitally important in keeping the lot of them safe. There were more sharks in this ocean than just the Hallorans and O’Malleys—better to go with the devil she knew than the one she didn’t. At least the older men recognized the threat, which was why there’d only been a minimum of mumbling discontent from them.