All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 46

When Grace got to the door she was surprised to see a Police Service vehicle.
Two uniformed officers exited the front of the car and headed to the back door on the cottage side. They helped a limp and bruised Quinn out of the car and headed to the door.

“Miss, the only identification we could find on this lad was your B&B business card. He didn't want to go to the hospital, so we brought him here,” explained one of the officers.

“What....what happened to him?” Grace was concerned about Quinn's injuries.

“Miss, could we put him down somewhere first, and then we'll explain. This lad is kinda heavy,” the officer pleaded.

“Sure follow me,” Grace replied and without even thinking about it lead them to her downstairs bedroom. She pulled the coverlet off the bed so they could put Quinn on the sheets. He was barely conscious.

Once they had Quinn settled, the officers explained that a driver on the road called in that he found a man lying on the side of the road. Originally thinking this might be a drunk, the officers headed out to help him home. When they found him, he was face down on the side of the road, no identification, no wallet, nothing but his biking clothes and the business card for the cottage in his back pocket.

“Where is his bike?” Grace asked confused.

“Miss, there was no bike. We're thinking some hoodlums stopped him on the deserted road and beat him up for his money. We didn't know he had a bike. Guess we should have because of the way he's dressed. We'll keep and eye out for a bike that might get dumped somewhere. And when he's better, we will want to talk to him about what happened. We'll stop by in a day or two.”

“In a day or two? He'll be gone back to Dublin by then,” Grace explained expecting Quinn to be back at work on Monday.

“I don't think he'll be going anywhere for a few days, miss. In fact he needs some tending too with all those scrapes and bruises. And you'll need to keep an eye out for a concussion. Maybe even contact your local doc to check him out,” the officer seemed to be washing his hands of any care of Quinn.

“But, but....,” Grace was speechless. She had no idea what to say to all this. Resigned to deal with it, she dismissed the police officers and headed back to the bedroom. It was not until she entered the room that she realized she had just given up her bed to this partially conscious man.

Grace stood looking over Quinn for a moment trying to decide what she was going to do. It was too late to call a doctor. That would have to wait until morning. She was hoping that there were no internal injuries that would be a problem until then. He was filthy from lying in the dirt and his biking clothes were torn and bloody. Grace decided the first thing she needed to do was get Quinn cleaned up and that meant removing his clothes.

Grace figured that Quinn might have some clean clothes up in his room, so she took her master key and headed up to the room. Clean shirts, trousers, socks, and underwear, but nothing for pajamas. He must sleep in his briefs. Oh, joy, were the thoughts going through Grace's mind.

From the kitchen Grace gathered the first aid kit, some cloth towels, a bowl of warm water and her kitchen scissors. She was hardly the nursing type, but how difficult could this be? Grace had not thought about the fact that Quinn was almost twice her weight and a limp body. Moving him in any direction without his help would be nearly impossible. But it had to be done.

Standing over Quinn trying to figure out what to do, Grace was startled by a moan.

“Quinn? Quinn, can you hear me?” Grace asked hoping that Quinn was just waking up from all this and could handle it all himself.

Just another moan, nothing more. Quinn was really out of it. Grace told herself that all would be fine, she just needed to tend to Quinn. So she began by using the kitchen scissors to cut off his biking shirt and shorts. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Quinn did have briefs under his bike shorts. Just one thing she did not want to deal with. The bike shorts were Lycra so they fit tightly to Quinn's body. Grace was careful not to stab Quinn with the scissors when she was cutting the shorts away. Once she had cut down each side seam, she was able to pull them off by sliding them away from Quinn's body.

His Lycra biking shirt was different. She could cut up the arms and to the neck, and then down the front, but pulling the shirt out from under Quinn was much more difficult. Through his moaning and her soft spoken encouragement, she was able to roll Quinn partly on his side to get part of the shirt out of the way, and then able to do the same on the other side pulling it out from under him.

So there lie Quinn in his briefs, that Grace had no intention of removing, bruised and cut. Grace spent the next hour cleaning and bandaging up Quinn the best she could. Once she did the initial cleaning she used a fresh towel on his forehead to keep him cool and comfortable. She wondered how long it had been since he had eaten and how did this happen to him.

It suddenly hit Grace that there might have been someone who Grace should contact about Quinn's situation, but she didn't have a clue. It was late, but it suddenly dawned on Grace who she should call....Peter. Why had she not thought of this before?

“Hello...,” a sleepy voice answered his cell phone.

“Peter, I have an emergency, can you come over right away?” Grace pleaded into the phone.

“Grace, what time is it? What's going on?” Peter was still waking up.

“Peter, just can you come over right away? I need your help,” Grace sounded worried.

“I'm coming Grace, don't blow a gasket,” Peter seemed a little annoyed, but Grace didn't care. She breathed a sigh of relief thinking that help was on the way. At least she hoped Peter could help.