His Made-to-Order Bride

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The automatic doors leading from the ambulance bay whooshed open and two officers in tan-colored uniforms accompanied an orange-clad prisoner in handcuffs. The fellow was big and burly and, in J.D’s opinion, weighed more than both of his keepers combined. A makeshift bandage covered his forehead and he held a rag to his nose.

To J.D.’s surprise, two more guards followed them.

Obviously this prisoner was a high security risk. J.D. couldn’t recall having seen a similar situation at Mercer before and he took a closer look.

The prisoner shuffled along and he held his left arm against his side.

The deputies didn’t appear unscathed either. Their hair was tousled and several sported bruises on their cheek-bones. Their expressions were hard, their eyes intent.

A tall blond approached Katie, the grim set to his mouth softening as he addressed her. ‘Hi, Katykins.’

‘Hello yourself, Thad,’ she responded, her cheeks pink-tinged and her face wearing the first smile J.D. had seen all day. ‘What can we do for you fellows?’

Thad motioned to the prisoner. ‘Ernie Sheldon here decided he didn’t like to stay in our accommodations. He raised a ruckus to try and escape. He’s a little worse for wear.’

J.D. eyed the man whose eyes seemed to shoot daggers. If looks could have killed, everyone in the ER would be dead, especially his jailers.

Thad continued. ‘He’s been complaining about his ribs so we thought we’d better bring him in for you folks to check out.’

J.D. exchanged a glance with Katie, visually signalling to her that he would remain nearby. ‘Put him in One,’ he ordered, wanting him away from the other ER patients.

Katie ushered the group into the specified exam room as J.D. followed. Although the staff usually took care of the basics, before calling him into the room, he didn’t intend to leave Katie alone, even if Mr Sheldon was surrounded by four armed members of law enforcement.

He was also curious about the man who so comfortably modified Katie’s name.

‘Have a seat, Mr Sheldon,’ Katie told him, motioning to the bed.

Thad and one of his colleagues stationed themselves near the foot and head of the cot. As the room wasn’t designed to accommodate a large group, two of the deputies remained outside in the hallway. They stood on either side of the doorway, their legs planted apart as if they were ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

J.D. remained in the background while Katie recorded their patient’s full name—Ernest T Sheldon, his date of birth—he was forty-two—and his address.

At this last question, the man snorted. ‘Just put down County Jail. I expect I’ll be there a while.’

‘After this stunt, it’ll be a long while,’ Thad assured him.

Sheldon turned the air blue with his comments about his jailers’ parentage.

Katie rummaged in a drawer and withdrew an old-style mercury thermometer. She immediately shoved it in Sheldon’s mouth to cut off his diatribe in mid-curse.

The silence in the room seemed golden as Katie continued with the usual taking of vital signs. J.D. took advantage of the momentary quiet to pose a few questions. ‘You mentioned ribs. Anything else, other than the obvious?’

He referred to the bloodied bandage around the man’s shaved head and his swollen nose.

Thad shook his head. ‘No.’

J.D. addressed his patient just as Katie removed the thermometer from his mouth. ‘Your ribs are sore?’

‘Yeah. It’s hard to catch my breath. Thoses. o.b.s…’ Sheldon added several more colourful expletives to describe his captors ‘…beat the holy hell out of me.’

Sensing the fellow was about to embark on another long tirade, J.D. interrupted. ‘Any history of asthma or other lung problems?’