Bad Breaks

Chapter 1

Nick and Heath went after Jarrod, after he had gone after Keno Nash, only to find them heading back toward the ranch. Jarrod was mounted but slumped over, and Keno was leading the horse and carrying his pup. Nick was immediately ready to jump down and throttle Keno, but as soon as they arrived, Jarrod sat up straighter. "It's all right," he said. "I stepped in one of your bear traps. Keno was helping me back to the house."

"How bad is it?" Nick asked.

"Bad enough," Jarrod said, and they saw that he was sweating and starting to slump again.

"I'll go fetch the doc," Heath said and took off for town.

Nick put his horse beside Jarrod's and took hold of his arm, to help keep him in the saddle. Keno said nothing the whole time the two of them got Jarrod back to the house. There were plenty of men to help him out of the saddle, into the house and up to his bed.

With all the attention on Jarrod and Keno, no one noticed Jack Follet had collected his things and was riding away. He noticed them, though, and had nothing but hate in his eyes for all of them.

Dr. Merar came, examined Jarrod's ankle and pronounced it beautifully broken. He said the bear trap would have crushed it but for the boot and sock that took a lot of the pressure. One thing he was worried about, though, were the punctures from the teeth of the trap. The boot and sock had protected Jarrod from the worst of that, but the skin was still broken in several spots, and there were slight punctures.

The risk was infection, especially lockjaw. The trap was never cleaned, so it could have carried all kinds of tetanus and now Jarrod might be carrying it too. And there wasn't a thing anyone could do about it now except treat it as they would treat any infection, or amputate his entire leg (which he nixed). If he contracted lockjaw, they could only try to keep him comfortable and pray that it wasn't fatal. It would be the same story with any other infection.

"Your boot and sock gave you some protection, from the puncture wounds and for the ankle break too," Dr. Merar said. "But you have to stay off of it completely, and I mean completely, for several weeks if the break is going to heal."

Jarrod was able to put the risk of lockjaw into perspective, and after a deep breath or two, he had accepted whatever had to come. But being bedridden for weeks was not a happy prospect. The work he had to do over the next couple months flashed in front of his eyes, and when he sighed and groaned, his family knew it wasn't because of the pain of the ankle or the risk of tetanus or other infection – it was the fact he'd be off his feet for so long.

"How about crutches?" Jarrod asked.

Dr. Merar shook his head. "Only to get from bed to a chair in this bedroom. You can use a commode and sit in a chair for a few hours a day, but that leg has to be elevated. Treat this break too lightly, and you're going to end up on a cane for the rest of your life, or in a wheelchair, or even without that leg."

That threat got Jarrod's attention, and everybody else's. With another groan and a sigh, he accepted the inevitable. "All right. I'm gonna need some help, because I have work I need to be doing. I can do it here if I can get someone to run to town and get what I need."

"Keno," Nick said.

Jarrod looked surprised. "Can Yankee spare him?"

"For a couple hours a day, yeah, he can spare him," Nick said. "Keno got you into this. He's the one who should help you deal with it."

It was settled. Lockjaw, thankfully, never appeared, nor did any other infection. It didn't take long for Jarrod to figure out how to get from his bed to a chair with the crutches. Once he was comfortable doing that, he was back to work full blast. That was why Keno was in town on the day Jack Follet decided he wanted some payback.

Keno came back from town that day with blood on his face and a black eye. Nick was the first to see him when he came into the stable yard. "What the hell happened to you?" Nick asked.

Keno just took Jarrod's papers out of his saddlebag and said, "Nothing."

Keno started for the house, but Nick grabbed his arm. "Nothing, my foot! Who beat you up?!"

"It's really nothing, Mr. Nick," Keno said. "Just leave it alone, please."

"Keno, answer me," Nick ordered.

Keno finally gave in, knowing if he kept refusing Nick, he could get fired. "Jack Follet," he said.

Nick didn't have to ask who started it, but he did ask, "Who saw it happen?"

"Nobody," Keno said. "I was coming out of Mr. Jarrod's building when Follet saw me and pushed me back in. He hit me a few times and then left. Nobody saw him hit me."

"Did you hit back?" Nick asked.

Keno shook his head. "If I hit back, then I'm going back to prison."

Nick decided not to argue with him about that. Keno wouldn't have believed him if he said a fight wouldn't get Keno thrown back in prison anyway, because it was probably true. "Give me the papers for Jarrod and go clean yourself up, Keno. Get back to work with Yankee."

Keno nodded, handing over the papers, and he headed for the pump.

Shaking his head and wondering what, if anything, to say to Jarrod, Nick headed into the house and straight up to Jarrod's bedroom. His older brother was sitting up in bed, papers and books already spread out across his lap and the top of the bed as if it were just another desk. "Where do you want these?" Nick asked.

"Give them here," Jarrod said and reached out for them.

Nick gave them to him, a sour look on his face.

Jarrod noticed. "What's the matter?"

"Keno came in beaten up," Nick said. "He says Jack Follet got to him."

Jarrod nearly growled. "Who saw this?"

"Nobody. Keno says Follet saw him coming out of your building, pushed him back in and beat on him inside the door. Then he left."

"Somebody must have seen Follet push him."

"Maybe, but I got the feeling Keno didn't want to press this any. He's afraid he'll be the one sent to prison."

"I'll talk to him."

"No, Jarrod, maybe we ought to leave it alone for now. If there's more trouble, I'll go plaster Follet myself."

Jarrod eyed his hot-headed brother. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Nick eased up and gave a little chuckle. "You worried I'll find another lawyer if I need one?"

"Well, I can't help you," Jarrod said, still bothered about this and about being laid up. "What I'm afraid of is that Keno will get himself into trouble. All he has to do is hit back, and Follet will parade one little bruise on his cheek into an assault charge against Keno."

"I suppose I could send somebody else in town to fetch for you."

Jarrod sighed. "No, Keno will think we're blaming him for Follet's attack. Did he see the sheriff about it?"

"I doubt it."

"Tell him if it happens again, he's to go straight to the sheriff and report it, whether he wants to press charges or not."

"All right," Nick said and began to leave. "Do you need anything?"

Jarrod looked at the mess of papers and books in front of him. "The doctor to tell me I can get out of bed and come down to the library to work."

"Sorry, Big Brother. I don't want to be pushing you around in a wheelchair for the next forty years."

The doctor did return every few days, and what he usually said was, "It's doing very well. Stay off of it."

"How long am I going to have to stay off of it?" Jarrod would always ask.

"Another week at least," the doctor would say, and then another week would turn into another week until four weeks after he was injured, Jarrod was still confined to his bedroom. He was allowed more time in the chair and visits down to the wc on his crutches, but he was not allowed to put any weight on the injured ankle and he was not allowed to take the stairs.

But Jack Follet did not prove to be trouble again over the next few days. In fact, people were pretty sure he had left the area. Keno healed up just fine, and the beating he took was forgotten – until one day, just over a month after Jarrod was injured and Follet was fired, the man turned up again in Stockton.