Chapter 12

Honey reclined on a table in doctor's office, her hand nearly hidden by the cocoon of bandages. Caleb could clearly see that she was exhausted. Fine, white lines framed pale, pink lips and even resting, her lithe body sagged in obvious fatigue. Upon the physician's insistence, she had swallowed a small draught of laudanum, yet Caleb had still expected a faint when her bones had been reset. Honey had flinched and muttered a soft expletive, but had remained, determinedly, conscious -- and though the curse had caught him off guard, after a moment he decided that such language flowing over those rosebud pink lips was just one more thing he found undeniably attractive about Honey Hickok. Now she lay on the table, breathing softly as the medicine dulled both her pain and her independence, waiting on him. He liked knowing that she depended on him, even if she was both loathe to admit it and under the influence of medication.
When he had first arrived at the physician's office, the doc had been tending a gunshot victim. Caleb was grateful as he had used the time to get another hotel room. His original intent had been to make Honey comfortable, but now, after watching her suffer, Caleb felt haggard, like he'd aged a few years in a very short time. He could only imagine how weary Honey must be feeling.
Moving away from the doorway, Caleb found the doctor in his office. "Doc, how soon can I take 'him' home?" Caleb inquired.
Doc Murphy coughed loudly; Caleb thought it almost sounded like a laugh.
"Him?" the doctor questioned, composed.
Caleb raised a dark eyebrow. "Well glory be, at least you ain't blind too. I'd about decided I was the only sane person left in the world."
"Oh, I'd have figured it out soon enough after I began my examination, but the way you brought her in here, fussing over her and all concerned, was a dead give-away."
Caleb cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "Well now, I've been taking care of her, so I'm supposed to fuss a bit if she's hurt."
The Doc flashed him a knowing smile as he rose from behind the desk, but made no comment. "She's ready to go home now, but she'll need plenty of rest. Make sure she gets a good night's sleep," he added, focusing pointedly on Caleb's black eye.
When his meaning sunk in, Caleb had the grace to blush. "Now mister, I haven't…, that is…, I mean…, I'm just, I wouldn't -- take advantage of her," he stuttered.
"If I thought she were in danger with you, you wouldn't be leaving this office with her," Doc Murphy interrupted. "Just see that she gets rest until the laudanum wears off, and doesn't try to use that hand for a while."
"Easy for you to say," Caleb sighed. "She don't take orders well at all."
Doc Murphy patted the younger man on the back. "I've found, in my experience, the feisty ones are usually worth the extra effort."
"You know, I think you're right." Caleb flashed a conspiratorial grin. "Luckily, I can be a stubborn as she is."
The two men walked into the sick room. Honey leaned up on her elbow, eyelids drowsy. "Can I go home now?"
"You sure can," answered the Doc. "I've given further instructions to your young man, so you listen to him," he instructed.
A hazy fog clouded Honey's mind. She thought the old quack had called Caleb hers, but decided it was only her imagination, especially since Caleb hadn't corrected him.
Caleb moved to her side, gently helping her sit up. "Now don't get up too fast," he spoke softly. "Nice and easy," he added.
Honey's feet settled on the floor, but her knees were wobbly. "I feel funny," she slurred.
"You just need a good night's sleep," Caleb assured her tenderly. As they approached Doc Murphy at the door, Caleb stopped a moment. "I didn't think she took much medicine?" he questioned, worriedly.
"She didn't, but since she is unaccustomed to it, the effects are strong. It will wear off by morning," he explained. "She might have a headache then as well."
Caleb's brow furrowed as Honey slumped against his side. Instead of slinging her over his shoulder this time, he carefully scooped an arm underneath her knees. Her cheek fell against his chest as he cradled her in his arms. The sweetness of the scene was broken by a very loud, but unmistakably feminine snore. Caleb chuckled as he cuddled her a bit closer.
"Son," the doctor said, slowing their leave, "I don't know what the particulars of your situation is, and I'm not gonna ask, but, well, you do realize that you treat that girl like fine china?"
Though his face had previously softened as he held Honey, a mask of defensive irritation immediately descended upon Caleb's strong features. "Now Doc, I know she might look strange, dressed as a boy an' all, and you might've heard her curse when you were setting her hand--"
"Whoa son," Doc Murphy interrupted. "I'm not saying she doesn't deserve your consideration. I just hope you've considered your, err -- own consideration so to speak."
At that moment, Honey moved slightly in Caleb's arms, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Caleb looked blankly at the older man. "I think I need to get her home and put her to bed," Caleb responded, in lieu of answer. The doctor merely nodded, opening the door for the couple. Caleb headed up the street with his young charge.
Doc Murphy had been a doctor for nearly thirty years, and well recognized the look of possessiveness on the young man's face. "I think you meant to say 'make a home with her and bed her," he chuckled to himself.

Caleb placed Honey gently on the bed, guiding her injured hand carefully by her side. She moaned softly, but did not flinch or change position. After watching her a moment, he moved to the foot of the bed and began unlacing her boots. That task complete, Caleb warily eyed her remaining garments. The cuff of her sleeve was coated in dried blood and the tails of her long shirt hung out of dirty pants.
She'd slept fully clothed on the trail many a night, but he couldn't leave her in that stained and filthy shirt. 'I'll just slip that and the vest off,' he reasoned. Taking a deep breath, as if to fortify himself for the task at hand, his fingers moved to the bottom button. By the time he'd moved up to the next one, those same digits trembled.
"This is silly," he muttered, rushing to finish the job. Honey continued to breathe evenly as he sat cautiously upon the bed, next to her prone body.
The unbuttoning complete at last, Caleb eased open the shirt and vest. Caleb was a little surprised, and more than a bit relieved, at how little was actually visible, even with her clothing removed. A somewhat dirty chemise lay flat against Honey's torso, and Caleb could see layers of binding bunched beneath. "Ahh Honey," he sighed audibly, unaware he had been holding his breath, "How uncomfortable that must be all the time."
Placing his hands gently beneath her shoulders, he lifted her toward him. Her mouth opened a fraction, as her head lolled against his chest. Caleb carefully cradled her head against him as he pulled the sleeves down her arms, pulling off the shirt and vest off an arm in one fluid motion. "Back down on the bed, honey," he crooned. With a sure and steady hand, Caleb eased the shirt over her bandaged hand.
When at last Honey was free of the bloody rag that had been her shirt Caleb surveyed the woman beside him, frowning at the bindings. Her fair skin was red, and somewhat puckered, where the binding had been wrapped too tightly. How did she ever rest in that restriction? With a determined set of his chin, Caleb lifted Honey toward him once again. With swift movements, his hands reached beneath the chemise and he began unraveling the offensive wrapping, his rough callouses occasionally scraping against Honey's smooth skin. With each innocent caress, Caleb realized just how delicate Honey really was -- like fine china afterall. Beneath her bravado, a fragile young woman hid from the world. Caleb felt a surge of protectiveness, so strong that he trembled under its wake.
Dropping the yards of fabric on the floor, Caleb modestly lowered her chemise, keeping his eyes from seeing anything untoward, silently praising his own restraint. Hastily, he pulled the sheets up to her neck, Honey's arms resting on either side of her, atop the blanket.
Standing quickly, Caleb nodded down at Honey's sleeping form. Almost fitfully, she turned her head to one side. Unintelligible muttering accompanied the movement.
Immediately, Caleb sat beside her again. "It's okay, Honey," he drawled softly, caressing her cheek. She turned her head toward his hand, her lips kissing his palm. Something akin to a lightening shock traveled from his palm to his belly. Caleb caught his breath as desire coiled within him.
"Caleb," she moaned.
"You need to rest," he instructed her in a soft voice.
"Need," muttered Honey, "-need you."
"Oh, Honey, I'm here," Caleb assured her, "I'm right here."
"Stay with me," she whispered plaintively, eyes still closed.
"I'm right here," he repeated. "I'm not going anywhere." And he meant it, bone-deep.

Honey felt, rather than saw, brightness on her eyelids, and she rolled over as if to avoid the sun's caress. Immediately, she felt a satisfying warmth along the front of her body. 'Mmmm,' her sleep-filled mind sighed. She instinctively snuggled into the warmth, surprised that it wasn't softer. Instead of the smooth feel of a blanket or sheet, Honey felt a different smoothness, almost like steel. Without consciously realizing it, she cradled her injured hand against her stomach as her good hand moved up and down the soft, smooth warmth beside her.
A masculine moan escaped from the object of her attention. Startled, Honey's eyes sprang open, now wide awake.
"Wha---, who--- Caleb?!" Honey shrieked.
"That would be me," he answered, keeping his own eyes closed.
"What are you doing in my bed?" she cried.
Caleb opened one eye, looking down at her dainty hand on his chest. Then, he looked at Honey. "You invited me here," he answered simply.
Honey followed his glance, jerking her hand away from him quickly, as if stung. "I don't know what you're talking about," she accused, pushing at him.
Caleb casually rolled off the bed onto the floor. With a groan, he stood. "I know you were a bit drowsy from the medicine, but--"
"I remember you taking me to a doctor, and him giving me some laudanum, but everything is hazy after that." Honey recounted, memories tumbling onto her dulled senses like a rock slide. She rubbed her head, trying to stop the pounding between her temples. She looked up. "YOU!" she shouted. "How dare you! You took advantage of me."
"Now listen here," Caleb began again, trying very hard to concentrate on Honey's face. No longer bound flat, a hint of the feminine curves he had encountered the night before were visible through the thin fabric of the chemise and were growing more noticeable with her every heaved breath. Caleb was trying his best to maintain propriety by keeping his eyes from straying beneath her neck, but like metal filings to a magnet, the attraction was strong. Sweat began to bead upon his furrowed forehead.
"You no good, stinking excuse for a man -- I don't have to listen to you!" Honey accused. Realizing her binding was gone, she pulled the sheet up with a shriek. "You undressed me Caleb Tucker!"
"Would you calm yourself down and listen," he tried again. "Ev'ry time I moved away, you got fitful. The Doc said you needed to rest, so I decided to jus'--"
"Stop your lies right there," Honey demanded. "And get out of my room -- I don't ever wanna see your face again!"
"You hold it right there missy. I'm not going anywhere. Can you remember me doing anything with you last night, anything besides sleeping?"
"Well, no," Honey answered awkwardly. "But --"
"But nothin'," Caleb cut in. "Nothin' happened, Honey. I was trying to take care of you, you ungrateful shrew. I suggest you shut your trap, get dressed and get ready to go meet your Pa." With that, Caleb began buttoning his shirt and headed toward the door. "I'll be back for you in ten minutes, so be ready. And one more thing," he added, turning to face Honey. "If anything had happened last night, I'm damn sure you'd remember it!"