When I came back in the living room with the water a minute later, Charlie was mopping up the mess and Tuck was seated just behind Brent on the couch, as he held Brent’s arm straight. I watched as Tuck put his own elbow in the bend in the boy’s inner arm and gripped his hand. Then he used his other hand to hold Brent’s wrist and made a quick movement that caused Brent to cry out as the clear sound of a bone popping into place met my ears. Katelyn gasped and the sheriff gave a small jerk as Tuck let go of Brent’s arm and scooted back onto the stool. “That should do it,” he said. “Try to bend it and see how it feels.”

Brent was quiet for a minute, his eyes closed, pained expression slowly smoothing out. Then he lifted his arm gently and bent it up and then down. “Better,” he said.

Katelyn let out a small sob and brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, Tuck. That’s it? It’s all fixed?”

“Yes, that’s it. But I’d like to put a cast on him, so he won’t knock it out of alignment again before it mends itself. I don’t know that that’s what’s typically done to be honest, but you have the materials, and it certainly can’t hurt.”

I walked carefully and purposefully over to Tuck and set the bowl of water on the coffee table that was pulled away from the couch to make room.

Tuck wrapped a piece of gauze around Brent’s arm. He was efficient and calm. “Do you want to wet the strips of plaster cloth and hand them to me?”

My breath hitched, nerves fluttering. But I nodded as I knelt, making a point not to grimace at the pull of the wound on my hip. That was nothing compared to the pain this little boy had been enduring for days. Plus, I could at least try to make up for being a klutz earlier and causing Tuck to lose his focus. He finished with the gauze and then reached his hand out for the first piece of plaster cloth. I dipped it in the water, squeezed lightly, and then handed it to him. “This might not be the prettiest cast,” he murmured as he began laying the pieces on Brent’s arm. “But it’ll do the job.”