Free Monroe, Marla - Belonging to Them [Men of the Border Lands 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Marla Monroe Page A

well.”
    Bolton turned around to agree with him, but his brother had already walked out of the room. He could hear his tread on the stairs. Damn, they didn’t need to be fighting while Heather was hurt. They needed to both be taking care of her. As much as he wanted to rip Brandon a new asshole, he needed his brother’s help to care for her.
    A few minutes later, Heather began to moan and move her head back and forth. She still felt cool to him. He couldn’t give her more pain medication yet. It was too soon. He lifted her again and urged her to drink some more water. She resisted at first, then took a sip. She began gulping the water as fast as he gave it to her. He didn’t want her to get sick, so he pulled it back and waited to see if she acted like she wanted more. She relaxed and her head lolled to one side.
    Brandon walked back into the room.
    “She drink some water?” Brandon asked as Bolton settled her back in the bed.
    “Yeah. About half the glass this time.”
    “I’ve got you a bowl of stew and some bread. It’s the last of the loaf she cooked yesterday.”
    “Did you eat?” Bolton took the bowl and bread.
    “Yeah, tasted like cardboard, and that ain’t her cooking.”
    Bolton spooned some of the stew into his mouth and swallowed without really tasting it. He nodded toward the bed.
    “Look at her arm. It’s awful swollen. Is it supposed to do that?”
    Brandon slipped between him and the bed and pulled back the cover to look at Heather’s arm. It looked even larger to Bolton since the last time he’d looked at it.
    “Yeah, it’s pretty swollen. It’s gonna swell some from all the trauma, but I’m afraid she’s going to end up with an infection, too. It’s too early to tell, though. We’ll keep it clean and dry. I’m going to get a towel to put under it, and we’ll keep the cover off of it. Grab a pillow and let’s elevate it some, so maybe it won’t throb when she wakes up.” Brandon stood up and walked over to the bathroom, then returned a few seconds later with a towel.
    Bolton sat aside his meal and helped him situate her arm on the pillow and towel. They folded the cover back away from it.
    “Can’t we get those bloody clothes off her?” Bolton asked.
    “Not now. Let’s wait until we see if she’s going to run a fever, then we’ll bathe her and changed her clothes.”
    “You think she’s going to get sick, don’t you?” Bolton sighed.
    “Her arm is too puffy already.”
    “What can we do for her if she does get sick?”
    “Keep her dry and comfortable and pray. It’s about all we have to work with, Bolton.”
    Brandon started to walk away, but Bolton stopped him. “Why, Brandon?”
    His brother didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t even turn back around to look at him. Finally his shoulders dropped and he hung his head.
    “Because I was a fool. I wanted her to love me like she loves you, but all she sees me as is her keeper. She thinks I feel like I’m stuck with her, so I’m making the best of it.”
    “That isn’t true, Brandon.”
    “I know that now, but before…” He didn’t finish. Instead he drew in a deep breath and walked out of the room.
    Bolton rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. The whole world was fucked up, and they were still screwing up their own little piece of it, as well.

Chapter Seven

    Brandon and Bolton took turns sitting with her the rest of the day and into the night. Around four that morning, Brandon touched her forehead and found it burning up. She was spiking a fever. He cursed and grabbed the thermometer he’d found in the first aid kit and ran it along her forehead. It registered one hundred and five degrees.
    “Bolton! Wake up.” He pulled the covers off of her and began undressing her.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Bolton sat up in the bed and watched him in horror.
    “She has one hundred and five temperature. We’ve got to get it down. Help me take her clothes off, and go get wet towels. We’ll