They disappeared from view, rolling around on the floor, bumping into chairs and the desk alternately as they pummeled each other. Her patients watched with varying degrees of mild interest.
This was ridiculous.
Willa stepped around the desk to break up the fight and nearly slipped. Blood coated the floor.
“Stop it.” She reached out to grab the man currently on top, but they rolled away before she could touch him, kicking her in the shin in the process. “Ouch,” she cried, clutching her foreleg and hopping up and down.
“Damn miners. Just let them fight it out,” one middle-aged flu victim said from the sideline. “It’s safer.”
“I can’t just let them beat each other to death.”
The man shrugged. “They’ll pass out before that happens.”
“How reassuring,” Willa mumbled as she hobbled back into the fray. “This isn’t some wrestling free-for-all.”
The two men bowled over a chair with a teenage boy in it. They now resembled a mobile new-age sculpture composed of thrashing legs and arms and metal chair legs.
“That is enough, ” she yelled, trying to get the chair out before it skewered someone. A head rose above the fray and Willa didn’t stop to think. She grabbed an ear and twisted. “I said that’s enough.”
“Hey, let go,” the miner whined, trying to jerk his ear free, but she refused to release him, twisting harder.
“Ow, ow, ow,” he complained as she hauled him off his adversary and their hapless victim. “Come on, lady, let go.”
“This is a medical clinic, not a bar,” she snapped, finally letting go of his ear. “There is no fighting allo—”
A bellow from the floor was the only warning she got before the other miner tackled the first one to the floor again. Two of her waiting patients calmly got up and moved their chairs out of the way. She helped the teenager to his feet and herded him to the side then took a deep breath, unsure of how to keep the two miners separated.
The front door opened, but before she could warn the new arrival the combatants gained their feet, fists flying.
Willa took a step toward them. She had to stop this before they seriously injured each other.
A fist shot out, slamming into the side of her face. She fell to the floor, dazed. For a moment she relived the blow the monster had once landed on her lower back, the one that pushed her down the stairs, the one that caused her miscarriage.
But someone pulled her out of the way before the idiots could step on her or kick her.
Liam.
He stepped between the two men, arms and legs moving in short controlled bursts. A second later both miners lay on the floor moaning.
Willa blinked. That was fast. She looked from the miners to Liam.
“Wow, man,” the teenager said. “You looked just like Jackie Chan. What was that, Karate, Kung Fu?”
“June Keet Do, another martial art form.”
“Cool.”
Martial arts? She swallowed her fear. Her ex-husband had been a karate expert, but he’d never used his skills to end a fight.
One of the miners tried to stand. “I’m going to kill that SOB,” he slurred.
His words jerked Willa back to the here and now. “You most certainly will not,” she said, placing herself between him and his adversary.
“What’s going on here?”
Edward Reynolds stood in the doorway.
Liam didn’t look at his father. “Willa, you got the stuff to do enemas here?” he asked casually, though she knew from past experience that his stance was hardly casual. Knees slightly bent for better balance, he looked ready to fight. She swallowed, her eyes darting to Liam’s father as he moved to stand next to his son then back to Liam. She forced a neutral expression onto her face. “Of course, why?”
“I think that would be just the sort of medicine these two need to help them get control over themselves. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The miner on his feet paled. “I don’t need no enema.”
“Then I expect you to mind your manners, sir,” Willa said to him.
This was ridiculous.
Willa stepped around the desk to break up the fight and nearly slipped. Blood coated the floor.
“Stop it.” She reached out to grab the man currently on top, but they rolled away before she could touch him, kicking her in the shin in the process. “Ouch,” she cried, clutching her foreleg and hopping up and down.
“Damn miners. Just let them fight it out,” one middle-aged flu victim said from the sideline. “It’s safer.”
“I can’t just let them beat each other to death.”
The man shrugged. “They’ll pass out before that happens.”
“How reassuring,” Willa mumbled as she hobbled back into the fray. “This isn’t some wrestling free-for-all.”
The two men bowled over a chair with a teenage boy in it. They now resembled a mobile new-age sculpture composed of thrashing legs and arms and metal chair legs.
“That is enough, ” she yelled, trying to get the chair out before it skewered someone. A head rose above the fray and Willa didn’t stop to think. She grabbed an ear and twisted. “I said that’s enough.”
“Hey, let go,” the miner whined, trying to jerk his ear free, but she refused to release him, twisting harder.
“Ow, ow, ow,” he complained as she hauled him off his adversary and their hapless victim. “Come on, lady, let go.”
“This is a medical clinic, not a bar,” she snapped, finally letting go of his ear. “There is no fighting allo—”
A bellow from the floor was the only warning she got before the other miner tackled the first one to the floor again. Two of her waiting patients calmly got up and moved their chairs out of the way. She helped the teenager to his feet and herded him to the side then took a deep breath, unsure of how to keep the two miners separated.
The front door opened, but before she could warn the new arrival the combatants gained their feet, fists flying.
Willa took a step toward them. She had to stop this before they seriously injured each other.
A fist shot out, slamming into the side of her face. She fell to the floor, dazed. For a moment she relived the blow the monster had once landed on her lower back, the one that pushed her down the stairs, the one that caused her miscarriage.
But someone pulled her out of the way before the idiots could step on her or kick her.
Liam.
He stepped between the two men, arms and legs moving in short controlled bursts. A second later both miners lay on the floor moaning.
Willa blinked. That was fast. She looked from the miners to Liam.
“Wow, man,” the teenager said. “You looked just like Jackie Chan. What was that, Karate, Kung Fu?”
“June Keet Do, another martial art form.”
“Cool.”
Martial arts? She swallowed her fear. Her ex-husband had been a karate expert, but he’d never used his skills to end a fight.
One of the miners tried to stand. “I’m going to kill that SOB,” he slurred.
His words jerked Willa back to the here and now. “You most certainly will not,” she said, placing herself between him and his adversary.
“What’s going on here?”
Edward Reynolds stood in the doorway.
Liam didn’t look at his father. “Willa, you got the stuff to do enemas here?” he asked casually, though she knew from past experience that his stance was hardly casual. Knees slightly bent for better balance, he looked ready to fight. She swallowed, her eyes darting to Liam’s father as he moved to stand next to his son then back to Liam. She forced a neutral expression onto her face. “Of course, why?”
“I think that would be just the sort of medicine these two need to help them get control over themselves. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The miner on his feet paled. “I don’t need no enema.”
“Then I expect you to mind your manners, sir,” Willa said to him.
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