Page 6 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“I can try.” She turned and patted Mila’s thigh. “Let’s get you out of these dirty clothes. Then I’ll examine you. We need to immobilize that shoulder. Given the bruising on your arms and stomach, I’d also like an X-ray to check for fractured ribs.”
Mila shook her head vigorously, letting out a cry of pain that made my heart leap into my throat. Eyes filling with tears, she breathed in sharply. “Please. Can you please examine me here and see if anything’s broken?”
Willa let out a big sigh. “Generally I need images to diagnose, but I’ll try this way.”
“I’ll call in a favor,” I said. “I’ve known a couple of the EMTs all my life. They could transport you to another hospital. Take you all the way to Augusta if we need to.”
“No.” The tears streamed down her cheeks now, leaving tracks in the dirt still covering her.
I squeezed my hands at my sides and inhaled deeply. I’d never felt so helpless or terrified. Her hair was crusted with dirt. Every inch of her was filthy. And the bruises were darkening by the minute. This woman, who’d been so alive, so strong the night we’d spent together, looked so frail.
Every instinct in me screamed to protect her. But how could I do that if I didn’t know what was going on?
“Who did this?” I asked, the words coming out deeper than I’d anticipated. “Who hurt you?”
Willa peered over her shoulder, brow arched. “Boys, give us some privacy, please. I need to examine my patient. You may hear noises as I poke around, but please stay in the kitchen. I’ll take care of her. Promise.”
I couldn’t leave, not while she was crying and in so much pain.
But I was too weak to fight off Cole, the biggest of my brothers, when he took the clothes from my hand and set them on the couch, then grabbed my elbow and pulled me into the kitchen.
While I paced the small space, he loaded the dishwasher, studying me every few seconds or so.
He wanted answers. But what he didn’t understand was that I didn’t have any.
“Boys,” Willa called after only a few minutes. “Clean off and sterilize the kitchen island, please.”
My heart lurched, and Cole went ramrod straight, looking at me with the same kind of horrified expression I was probably wearing. Sterilize the counter? Fuck. Mila needed a hospital, so why was she refusing to go?
We knew better than to disobey Willa’s medical orders, so I choked the questions back and helped my brother clean off the large island. I’d donated the small table and chairs I’d once had set up in here and then installed the island a couple of years ago. I wanted more prep space, and the granite countertop made the tiny kitchen feel more modern.
Cole grabbed the cutting board and plates while I grabbed bleach wipes from under the sink, and in minutes, we had it all cleared, cleaned, and sanitized.
Willa led Mila in with her hand on the small of her back.
“We need to manipulate her shoulder back into place,” she explained, her tone cool and authoritative. “So we’ll get her up on the island so she’s lying on her stomach with her left arm and shoulder hanging off the side.” At the island, she stopped and ensured Mila was still cradling her arm, then looked back at us. “I’ll need both of you to help.”
Without hesitation, I pulled a chair over and held out a hand, helping Mila step up onto it and then lower herself until she was lying on the cool granite.
“Cole, stand at the end and hold her legs to ensure she doesn’t kick in reaction to the pain. Jude, stand on her right side. Keep her stable and make sure that shoulder doesn’t move.”
Mila lay face down, her head turned my way. Her complexion was pale but her expression was determined.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” I asked, tentatively placing a hand on her right shoulder blade.
She nodded. “Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Thanks for helping.”
Though there was a layer of stained fabric between my hand and her back, I could feel the heat of her skin underneath my fingertips. She reached out, searching, so I slid my hand into hers and gave it a squeeze.
“Now,” Willa explained, “I’m going to apply pressure to the socket joint. Between my pushing and the gravity pulling your arm down, it should slide back into place. I’ll go slowly so I don’t cause any ligament damage. But this will hurt.”
Mila sucked in a shaky breath. “Okay.”
“And I want to note that we could be doing this with anesthesia at a hospital.”
“I’m fine, Doc,” the woman lying prone between us gritted out. “Just do it.”
Though her voice was stony, her hand was trembling. I threaded my fingers through hers, trying to offer some comfort.
