The Circle Eight: Tobias (5 page)

“Do you know how he was injured?” She turned to find Tobias where James had been.
 

He was pale and looked worse than he had when she had first seen him five hours earlier, if that was possible. “James said it was a tree.”
 

“That makes sense.” She returned to her task, using tweezers to extract the bits and pieces from Will’s skin. It was work that required a deft hand and infinite patience. Her hand, arm and shoulder cramped but she worked until all the pieces were gone.
 

“I reckon he’s pretty bad off.” Tobias sounded as though he was gargling gravel.
 

“The skull is damaged but it’s not through the bone completely. He lost a bit of his scalp and hair, too, along with part of his ear. I’m going to stitch what I can, but I’m afraid the real damage might be inside his skull.” Rebecca had read what she could about injuries to the head and there was
still so much unknown in the medical world, much less by a healer with no formal medical training.
 

“I don’t know what that means. You can see inside his skull?” Tobias pushed off the wall and edged closer, peering over her shoulder.
 

“No but I have read quite a lot about injuries to the head. The human brain is delicate. If he survives the injuries, we wait to see if he wakes up.” She threaded a needle and began stitching. The detailed work calmed her, gave her a sense of purpose.
 

He didn’t speak for a few minutes while she worked. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence as though Will being injured had stolen Tobias’s fierceness. His contentiousness had been tucked away but she didn’t fool herself into thinking it was gone for good.
 

“He might not wake up? Ever?” Tobias whispered.
 

Rebecca stopped, her hand in mid-motion. “No, he might not. It’s not definite, nothing is. We won’t know anything for a few days.” She resumed working, closing the wounds with neat, even stitches the doctor would compliment her on. “Can you please get some clean hot water? I need to wash my hands and my instruments.”
 

Tobias picked up the basin without a word and left the room. Rebecca set the filthy bandages on the floor and studied Will’s face. He was pale, but not overly so. His breathing was steady and even, as was his heart. Anything could happen in the next few days but she was cautiously optimistic he would survive. Will was a strong young man. He had well-formed muscles and was obviously healthy prior to being injured.
 

She rarely prayed anymore and kept her mind focused on what she could do rather than on what she wished for. Healing people had given her that ability. Yet she would be praying for Will because appealing to the Almighty wasn’t amiss when things were at their most dire.
 

Tobias returned with the steaming water. She washed her hands, then dried them with a clean cloth. Then as she had done a thousand times, she cleaned the instruments, then set then on the same cloth.
 

“You’re better at this than you were.”
 

She gave him a wry smile. “I’ve had five years to practice.”
 

“Fix him, Becca. Please.” His gaze locked on hers and she found herself drowning in the dark irises.
 

She’d never heard him speak so plaintively and she hadn’t expected the word “please” to cross his lips either. Rebecca couldn’t recall ever hearing him use it before. “I will do everything in my power, Tobias. I promise.”
 

He nodded, his lips tightened into a white line. She turned back to Will and wrapped his head with clean bandages as gently as she could.
 

“We will need clean sheets after I finish bandaging him. I found that cleanliness helps the healing process and Doctor Radicy agrees. He is more fastidious than I am so I’m always trying to live up to his standards.” She gestured to the pile of dirty bandages on the floor. “These should be boiled so they can be used again.”
 

Tobias didn’t speak or respond and she wondered if he would balk at being ordered around by a woman. He scooped up the pile and left the room with a stomping stride. She focused on rechecking Will’s condition.
 

He needed her more than anyone else right now. Tobias would have to find his own peace. She couldn’t offer him anything except her medical opinion. Anything else was beyond her ken right then. She needed to monitor her patient and do everything she could to help him. Another time, she might let herself be a woman, but not now. Maybe not ever.
 

Tobias found her sleeping in the chair beside Will’s bed. He stood over her and simply stared. She had spent hours doctoring Will, putting tiny little stitches into his wounds, setting the bone in his leg, wrapping his ribs and making sure every small wound was seen to. He had watched her until he could barely see straight. He didn’t know how she did it.
 

She’d been hunched over, working tirelessly without food or drink. Now she had fallen asleep in the chair, her neck at an awkward angle, dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her light brown hair hung in hanks around her head, the braid loosened. Her arms were crossed, pushing her ample breasts up. He pulled his gaze away from her tits; the lessons Pops had ground into him were still good for something. He wasn’t a gentleman but he knew ogling unconscious women wasn’t right.
 

He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Will. The younger Gibson was alive, but Tobias couldn’t help but remember Rebecca telling him Will might not wake. His face was swollen and bruised, his breathing shallow but steady. His leg was straight, but a broken limb took a ranch hand off the job, maybe permanently.
 

Will supported himself just fine working for Donovan. Sometimes he even came by with a basket of food to see Tobias. Hell, the boy had been trying to take care of Tobias. His heart was so damn big, almost too large for the world.
 

He touched Will’s hand but dared not disturb him. Rebecca said he had bruised ribs but they were probably not cracked. It seemed Will’s head and leg had taken the brunt of the falling tree. First it broke his leg, and then he apparently slammed into the ground and unfortunately placed rocks. Will was lucky in some respects. The tree could have landed on his head and smashed it like a pumpkin.
 

Tobias had to hold back a snort of crazy laughter. He was exhausted, hungover and trembling with the need to find the whiskey in his saddlebags. His tack was in the barn, thanks to the hands at Donovan’s ranch. No one would think twice if he went out there for a sip. Just a little one. Rebecca was asleep and so was Will. Hell, it was the middle of the night. Most everyone was likely asleep. Except for fools like Tobias.
 

He got to his feet and before he could stop himself, he ran a finger down Rebecca’s cheek. Her skin was as soft as he remembered, not the softest on her body, but pretty damn close. He wasn’t a poet but he could find some words to talk about her skin. She was near perfect.
 

“What are you doing?” James’s harsh whisper startled Tobias.
 

He didn’t look at his younger brother. “None of your fucking business.”
 

“It is my business. I brought her here for Will. For
Will
, not
you
.” James’s voice shook with anger. “Don’t you touch her ever again.”
 

Tobias changed his mind about the sip of whiskey. After he kicked James’s ass he would drink the whole goddamn bottle. “Outside. Now.”
 

He pushed passed a vibrating James and didn’t wait to see if his brother followed. There was no question he would.
 

By the time they made it outside, Tobias was full of righteous anger. James had been pushing at him for years. It was time it stopped.
 

“You ain’t my father or my conscious, so stop judging me.” Tobias poked one finger into James’s chest. He was surprised to see how big his younger brother was, bigger than Tobias, who had let his body fall into disrepair just like his home. All of it for whiskey, for oblivion.
 

“You’re a fucking drunk.” James clenched his fists. “You treat everything like shit and you don’t deserve to even speak to an angel like Miss Graham.”
 

Tobias couldn’t quite form words for a few moments. It seemed James had fallen for Rebecca, which wasn’t a surprise. She had a lot for a man to fall for. She was beautiful, smart, stubborn and a damn good healer, no matter what awful things Tobias said to her.
 

“She ain’t for you, boy.” Tobias barked the words like a dog protecting his bitch. Ridiculous because she wasn’t his. He’d thrown away that opportunity in the darkness of a spring night five years earlier.
 

“She can decide for herself. You’re here because I knew Will’d want you here. I don’t.”
 

“I ain’t deaf or stupid. I know you hate me.” Tobias wouldn’t admit how much it bothered him. “I’m here for Will too.”
 

James pulled his fist back and slammed it into Tobias’s jaw with the force of a mule kick. His head swam as stars danced behind his eyes. He hit the ground with a bone-jarring thump and skidded a few feet in the dirt. Pain thrummed through his head and damned if he didn’t have a few loose teeth.
 

“I hope that fucking hurt, you bastard. He’s almost dead because of you.” James’s voice was littered with unshed tears. “If you had taken care of us the way Pops told you to, we wouldn’t be half a day’s ride from home and he wouldn’t be fighting to live. You put your head in a whiskey bottle and shit on the rest of us. I am fucking done being your brother.” James’s footsteps faded, leaving Tobias alone. Again.
 

Tobias hadn’t known a person could live after their heart had been broken into a thousand pieces. If James had stabbed him with a knife it wouldn’t have hurt any less. Tobias knew he’d been a bad brother and a selfish jackass, but he hadn’t realized the depth of hatred James had for him. It cut hard and deep, leaving Tobias bleeding, on the outside and inside, in the dirt where he lay.
 

He stayed where he landed long enough for the dew to settle over him. The cool mist felt like gentle tears from heaven. Perhaps the angels wept for him knowing he was beyond redemption. He sat up and the world swam around him. He explored his jaw, which was already swelling. His tongue found the loose tooth and the coppery taste of blood.
 

“Fuck.”
 

Tobias managed to get to his feet and stumble back into the house. Selfish that he was, he went straight back to Rebecca and Will. He was a stranger in a strange place, filthy and bloody. He needed to be around someone who knew him.
 

As he entered the house, he wiped off the angels’ tears.
 

A noise woke her. She straightened with a start, disoriented and stiff. Rebecca blinked and looked around, her heart pounding. She’d slept in
many places while helping others. It wasn’t unusual to wake up in an unfamiliar place.
 

She spotted Will first, sleeping with the fresh bandages shining in the lamplight. He breathed steadily although he was very pale. She moved to check his forehead for a fever when another noise sounded from the floor.
 

Rebecca peered down and found Tobias sleeping at her feet. He was on his side, his arm pillowing his head. His jaw had a fresh bruise and dried blood decorated the corner of his mouth. She frowned and wondered what had happened while she had dozed off. Perhaps Tobias had tussled with James. They had been at odds since they’d seen each other. Another mystery she wanted to solve but couldn’t since it wasn’t her business. Damn it.
 

She sighed and stepped carefully around him to check on Will. He was cool to the touch but fever could take hold at any time. He wouldn’t be out of danger for at least two days. She would need to send word back to the Circle Eight to let them know she had to stay put at the Donovan ranch. Matt wouldn’t be happy she was helping the Gibsons. He held grudges and he’d never forgiven Tobias for what he’d done to the ranch. No matter that he had worked for three months to rebuild everything that had been lost. Matthew Graham was a stubborn cuss, but she had to admit he was a wonderful brother and had raised her and her brothers and sisters after their parents’ death.
 

Rebecca took her time checking Will’s bandages and all his vital signs. His leg wasn’t swelling, which was great news, and the blood wasn’t seeping through the bandage. His head wound still bled, but the bandages weren’t soaked. Yet. She worried more about that than his leg. Broken legs healed and the bones would knit together well. All she could do now was worry and tend to him as best she could.
 

Satisfied her patient was resting, which was the best medicine right then, she made her way back to the chair. She pulled out her journal, pen and inkpot from her bag. She set the inkpot on the small table beside the bed and settled the paper on her lap.
 

The doctor had taught her to always record her observations, the herbs used—including the dosage—and the procedures she performed. It had become routine for her, a time to find a quiet place and think about what she’d seen and done. Many times it helped her with her herbal calculations.
 

The familiar act of putting words in her journal calmed her. It had been a long, trying day and she was afraid the worst was yet to come. Will
would have to fight to recover from his injuries and although he was healthy, anything could go wrong. In addition to a fever, he could develop an infection, never wake up, have blood poisoning or one of his ribs could actually be cracked instead of just bruised. Medicine could be an inexact science, which frustrated her.