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

bathe her and see if that will bring it down.”
    Bolton disappeared into the bathroom. Brandon heard the water running. Then he was back with several cool, wet towels. They washed her down with them. Brandon placed one of them across her neck, and another across her forehead. After a few minutes, he took her temperature again, but it hadn’t changed.
    “Fuck! It’s not working.”
    “What can we do?” Bolton had pulled on a pair of jeans now, and was struggling into his socks.
    Brandon searched his mind for what they could do to break her fever. All he knew was to keep bathing her in cool water. He couldn’t put her in a cold tub because of the wounds on her abdomen and arm. They couldn’t get the stitches wet. Panic tightened his throat and lodged a rock in his chest.
    “Go downstairs and get one of the washtubs. Bring back some more towels and we’ll run cold water in it and keep bathing her with it. It’s all I know to do right now.”
    By the sound of it, Bolton ran down the stairs. He’d be lucky if he didn’t break his fool neck, Brandon thought. Shaking his head, he removed the drying towels and replaced them with wet ones again. Her fever was drying them out as fast as he replaced them.
    When Bolton returned to the bedroom after filling the washtub with cold water, Brandon had him help hold her up so he could try and force more water down her. She fought it, but they managed to get a little more in her.
    “Roll her over and let me bathe her back,” Brandon told his brother.
    After he had cleansed her back, they began laying cold, wet towels over her body, working through the rest of the early morning hours. At a quarter of seven, Bolton finished dressing and took his turn at doing the daily chores and tending to the animals. Brandon remained with Heather, sponging her down over and over. He was exhausted from lack of sleep, but he wasn’t giving up.
    Several hours later, Bolton returned and took over the job. Brandon stood up and stretched. He felt like death warmed over. Then he felt guilty for thinking that. He was healthy, and Heather was fighting for her life. He crawled up next to her in the bed and took her uninjured hand in his. Then he willed himself to sleep. He needed as much rest as he could manage, so he could stay up with her again that night and relieve Bolton.
    He must have dozed at some point, because Bolton shook him awake.
    “I need to check the cows and fix us something to eat.”
    “What time is it?”
    “A little after noon.” Bolton waited for him to shake himself awake and climb out of the bed. “I’ll be back up in a few hours, and then we need to talk.”
    Brandon grimaced, but nodded. He was right. They needed to talk before Heather woke up. They needed to settle things before they had to face her. Dear God. Let them have to face her.
    He checked Heather’s temperature and found it was still 104. He didn’t know what else they could do. He continued bathing her in the cold, wet towels and forcing Tylenol down her every four hours. All the time he was caring for her, he was thinking about how he should have been caring for her all along.
    You were a fool, Brandon. She tried to let you know she cared about you over and over again, but your stupid fucking pride just wouldn’t believe it.
    Instead, he had felt sorry for himself because he believed she loved and cared about his brother, and only tolerated him. She had said that he was her keeper, her jailer. He believed she meant it. Maybe she had in the beginning. He’d been tough on her, but it was dangerous in the world today, and he was responsible for making sure she was safe. There was that word again, responsible.
    Several hours later, Bolton returned with a grim expression on his face.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how in the hell we ended up in this mess.”
    Brandon shook his head. “It’s all my fault. I let my feelings get hurt and made a mountain out of a molehill.”
    “If