by Eve Gaddy
“Tell Honey she needs someone to take care of her.”
“Well, I don’t think she needs someone with her every minute.”
Ha, take that, guys.
“But she can’t drive while she’s on pain medication, and of course, she’ll need someone to take her to and from the operation. Not to mention, she’ll probably need help until the operation and for at least a few days afterward.”
“Fink. Traitor.” Honey glared at him.
“Have you broken a bone before?” Sean asked her.
“Ribs. I’ve had a few sprains, too.”
“You’re going to have to do everything one-handed. Which is hard sometimes.”
“I’m going back to bed. You goons can discuss whatever you want, but that doesn’t mean I have to do it.” If she could have flounced, she would have, but she had to content herself with slamming the bedroom door behind her.
Damn, that was a mistake, she thought, putting her good hand to her temple.
Chapter Eleven
“So, you and Honey,” Mick said, sounding exactly like his brother Dylan. “How long have you two been dating?”
“Not long.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to date your patients.” Kevin got up and ranged himself beside his brother.
Sean hid a smile. He wondered if that was what he and his brothers would look like if it had been Glenna who they thought needed protection. “True. But we started dating before she was my patient.”
He wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to say they were together. Honey had looked shocked as hell when he said it. But they were dating. At least while she was in Marietta. After that, who knew?
“Want something to drink?” Mick asked, having apparently decided Sean wasn’t a serial killer.
“Thanks. Honey has drinks? Besides water?”
“Yep. And food, too,” Kevin said. “We went to the store.”
He settled on a soft drink, Kevin a beer, and Mick had water.
“You have the first shift,” Mick told Kevin. “I’ll come tomorrow after work.”
Sean thought she’d probably be all right on her own after today, at least until the surgery, especially if she had food she didn’t have to cook. But her brothers obviously wanted to be there for her, so he didn’t bother trying to change their minds.
“Did you tell Buster?”
“I tried. He’s not answering.” Mick frowned. “I haven’t bothered tracking him down.”
“Won’t be hard. Just look at the Wolf Den.”
Mystery solved. The Wolf Den was a bar over behind the railroad tracks that served liquor and maybe pretzels if the owner was feeling generous. It had been there for as long as Sean could remember. There were some back-room pool tables, a stripper pole and a mechanical bull, or at least there had been at one time, and not much else. It was dark, dank, and seedy, with clientele who were generally as sketchy as the bar itself. Sean had been in it a time or two in the past. Not to drink but looking for a couple of friends who were drowning their troubles and wanted to be anonymous while they did it.
“Buster’s a drunk,” Kevin said to Sean. Mick gave him a dirty look. “What? If he’s dating Honey, he’ll find out soon enough. It’s not like the old man is going to quit drinking any time soon. Or suckering her into doing his work, either.”
Mick shrugged. “If I can’t get in touch with him by tomorrow, I’ll go drag his ass out of the bar before I come over here.”
“You don’t look surprised,” Kevin said to Sean. “Did Honey tell you?”
“About your father? No. But I knew something wasn’t quite right between them when I met him. I didn’t know what.”
“Honey is too soft-hearted for her own good.” Mick said. “She needs to cut him loose and let him go to hell in his own way.”
“But she’s too damn stubborn to listen to reason,” Kevin added.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Honey stood in her bedroom doorway, clutching the jamb with her good hand. Pale, unsteady and blazingly angry.
“Telling your boyfriend here about Buster,” Kevin answered, unabashed.
“How dare you? He doesn’t want or need to hear any of that.”
“He’ll find out eventually,” Kevin said. “Might as well be now, from us, as later, from gossip.”
“Calm down, Honey,” Mick said. “Kevin’s right.”
She let go of the doorjamb. “Do not tell me to calm down. Get out! Both of you.”
Her brothers laughed. Sean winced. Now the shit’s gonna hit the fan.
She grabbed a purse from the pile of half-finished ones on a chair and hurled it at Mick. “Damn it, Honey, that hurt!” he said when it hit him dead center in the nose.
She picked up another and threw it at Kevin, who, thanks to the warning shot, tried to dodge it. But she must have known his moves because it caught him smack in his mouth. “Shit, I think you loosened a tooth.”
Honey started to reach for another bag. She faltered and began to crumple. Sean lunged for her, barely reaching her before she hit the floor. He looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and she was deathly pale. He scooped her into his arms and started for the bedroom. “She’s fainted. Has she eaten since she came home?”
“Uh, no.” Shame-faced, they started to explain, but Sean cut them off.
“If I didn’t have my hands full, I’d punch you myself. Get her some food. Soup or something. And bring me some water and crackers, now.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but carried her into the bedroom and laid her carefully down on the bed. He started to leave her to get a wet cloth for her head, but her eyes fluttered open and the blue glistened like seawater. “I feel sick.”
He sat on the bed beside her. “I’m not surprised. You’ve been popping pain pills and not eating.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. “I’m not crying,” she announced.
“Of course you’re not. It’s clearly allergies.” He kissed her forehead.
Mick cleared his throat. “Here’s some crackers and water. Kev’s heating up soup.”
“Thanks.” Taking the crackers from him, he said, “You can leave the water on the bedside table.” He jerked his head toward the door. Mick started to argue, but instead, he shut his mouth and left.
Sean fed her crackers and sips of water, though she protested both. A few minutes later, both brothers came in with the soup. Sean adjusted her pillows so she could sit up and took the soup. “I don’t need help feeding myself,” she said crossly.
That sounded more like her. “Humor me,” Sean said, holding the spoon ready. She swallowed a few spoonfuls of soup, while her brothers stood there silently.
“Honey?” She looked at them. “We’re sorry.”
“That’s okay.” She sighed. “I know you love me, but go away.”
As soon as they left, she began to giggle. “Did you see their faces? Mick’s going to have a black eye and Kevin’s mouth is already swollen. Is it bad of me to think they deserved it?”
He grinned. “No. From where I sit, they did deserve it. You have a hell of an arm, Slugger.”
“Softball. Pitcher all through school.”
By the time she finished the soup, her eyelids were drooping. Knowing that was the best thing for her, he said, “I’ll let you get some sleep. At least your stomach should feel better now.”
“It does.” She held out her hand and he took it. “Thanks. I know this isn’t what you signed up for. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He kissed her mouth briefly, watched to make sure all the pillows were arranged appropriately, and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
“Is she asleep?” Kevin asked.
Sean nodded. “For now, anyway.”
“How is she?” Mick asked. “I mean, before she went to sleep. Is she okay?”
Normally, Sean was good with patients’ families. But Honey wasn’t a patient and her brothers needed a wake-up call. “No, she’s not okay. Sh
e feels like shit, she has a concussion and a broken wrist, and whatever the hell family dynamic that went down here obviously upset her. I don’t give a rat’s ass what it’s all about, but if you upset her again, I’ll kick your asses. Got it?”
He hoped he didn’t have to make good on that threat. Her brothers were big dudes, and there were two of them. A little to his surprise, they apologized again.
“We get it. It’s just that—” Kevin started, but Sean held up a hand.
“Not my business. Honey will tell me what she wants me to know.” Or, and he thought it more likely, she wouldn’t.
*
No matter what Honey said, both Kevin and Mick stayed with her the night before her surgery. It was set for bright and early the following morning, and they insisted both of them needed to be there. She gave up arguing and watched a little TV with them before going to her bedroom to try to sleep.
Before she could get into bed, she heard someone pounding on the door, and a few moments later she heard raised voices. She wrapped her robe around herself and went out to see who was causing the commotion, but she had a feeling she knew.
And she’d been right. Buster. He spied her as soon as she came out of her room. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to do the Livingston job?”
No—how are you? No—what happened to you? No—I’m sorry I was out of touch. No—are you all right? Just Buster and his usual bullshit. “Neither of you told him what happened?” she asked her brothers.
“We couldn’t find him, and neither of us had time to track him down,” Mick said. “We checked the Wolf Den and a couple of his other favorite places, but when we couldn’t find him, we gave up, figuring he’d show up some time.”
“What happened to you?” Buster asked, apparently noticing for the first time that everything wasn’t okay with her.
“I had a fall running barrels at the rodeo on Sunday.”
“She has a concussion and broken arm,” Kevin added. “Which you’d know if you ever bothered to check in. I guess you were too drunk or hungover.”
Buster ignored him, addressing Honey instead. “I’m sorry about your fall, but now I’ve lost that job in Livingston and they won’t hire me again.”
“Well, pardon the hell out of me, but I was in the hospital,” Honey snapped. Why couldn’t her father act like a father just once? Why couldn’t he at least pretend he cared?
“I can’t believe you,” Mick said. “Look at her. Her arm’s in a cast. She’s having surgery tomorrow. We told you she has a broken arm, a concussion, and was in the hospital and all you have to say is you lost a job and try to blame it on Honey?” He shook his head, clearly disgusted.
“You’re such a completely self-centered son of a bitch, you haven’t even asked Honey how she feels,” Kevin added. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Buster shot back. “You didn’t tell me what happened to Honey. If I’d known, I could have—” He broke off mid-sentence.
Mick finished it for him. “Not hung one on? That’ll be the day.” All three started shouting at each other.
Great. Her brothers were about to blow, and Buster already had. While she appreciated Kevin and Mick sticking up for her, she wasn’t up to one of her family’s famous fights. And she sure as hell didn’t feel like playing peacemaker. Retreating to her room, she slammed the door behind her and left the three of them to it.
*
The best thing Honey could say about the surgery was that it was over. Wyatt sent her home in a splint, with a sling, a prescription for more pain pills, and with instructions not to get her stitches wet for twenty-four hours. At her appointment two days later, she still felt pretty lousy, but she did manage to ask some questions, and she didn’t like the answers.
Sitting up on the table, she watched Wyatt inspect his handiwork. “It looks good,” he said.
Too bad it didn’t feel good. “When do I get the stitches out?” she asked.
“In a week or ten days. It depends how you’re doing. Once you get the stitches out you can start physical therapy.”
“They’ll make me move it all around. That’s going to hurt like hell.”
“You need to move it and your fingers starting now. You don’t want it to freeze, do you?”
“No, but physical therapy doesn’t sound fun. Do I have to wear the splint all the time?”
“Unless you’re at physical therapy or in the shower.”
“How long is this going to take? What about the season?” The NFR was held the first week of December. Not that she’d make it now anyway, since she’d miss at least a few rodeos.
He shook his head. “No barrel racing. You’re out for the season.”
“What?” She sat up straight and stared at him. “For the entire rest of the year?”
“Broken bones take time to heal, Honey. Your wrist won’t be totally healed for eight to twelve weeks. But don’t worry, by the start of next season, you’ll be good as new.”
“Eight to twelve weeks?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Afraid not. But cheer up. If you’re a fast healer it’s likely to be eight.”
She was afraid she knew the answer to her next question. “What about riding? Can I at least ride? Please don’t tell me I can’t run barrels or even ride for eight to twelve weeks. I’ve never gone that long without riding in my life.”
Wyatt looked at her and sighed. “I’d prefer that you didn’t ride for at least four weeks. And when you do, it had better be a very well behaved, placid horse. Which I imagine doesn’t describe your barrel horse. You’ll be at a disadvantage anyway with only one usable hand.”
“Halo wouldn’t throw me.”
“Honey, she already did.”
“No, she didn’t. She fell and I jumped off.”
“You had a concussion. From what I heard, you don’t know what happened.”
She glared at him. “That’s what I was told.”
She hadn’t put her sling back on yet. Wyatt gently picked up her injured arm. She couldn’t help sucking in a breath, more from fear of pain than actual pain. “You know how badly this hurt? How much it still hurts?” Honey didn’t answer, but Wyatt didn’t seem to need one. “If you break it again, not only will the pain be even worse, I’ll probably have to re-operate on it. And you can add another eight to twelve weeks from that operation to your recovery time. If you want to risk that, go for it. Ride any horse you want.”
She wanted to ride Halo. But eight to twelve more weeks? “Fine. You win. I won’t ride Halo.” At least, not until she knew how Halo was really doing.
Martha had told her at the hospital that Halo was physically unhurt and that Tanner had taken her home after the accident. Tanner and Tucker had both been to see Honey before she had the surgery, but they hadn’t stayed long and hadn’t said much about Halo beyond a vague “she’s doing okay”.
Late that afternoon, she asked Mick to take her out to the Triple T so she could see Halo for herself.
As she’d been afraid of, Halo wasn’t doing well. She was skittish and easily spooked, as well as off her feed. Honey thought the mare was glad to see her, but honestly, she couldn’t be sure. Tanner told her all the things they had done for Halo, including having the Talon, the vet’s assistant, and Noah Sullivan, their regular vet himself, check on Halo, but they had found nothing physically wrong with her. Honey discussed with Tanner a few more things they might do for the mare, but she was worried sick about her. She didn’t stay long, both because her presence didn’t seem to be helping, but also because she started feeling worse shortly after arriving. But she planned to go back the next day. If her brothers insisted on staying with her, then they could damn well drive her to see her horse daily.
Even with daily visits, the mare didn’t improve. A week and a half after her surgery, Honey started physical therapy. Yet another place she needed to be driven. She knew Mick and Kevin were tired of carting her ar
ound, and she was just as sick of being carted. She stopped taking anything stronger than ibuprofen, thanked her brothers for their help and kicked them out.
Sean, who had been to see her every day that he wasn’t working and stuck in the hospital, came by that evening. He looked around. “Where are Kevin and Mick? Weren’t they both going to be here today?”
“They were here earlier. They left.”
“Where did they go?”
“Home, I assume.”
“Voluntarily?”
She laughed. “More or less. I’m fine, Sean.” She took a deep breath. Now or never. Is it bad that I’d rather it be never?
“I’m not taking pain medication, so I can drive now. I can do most things for myself, and if I can’t, I’ll figure it out. Since I no longer need so much help, that means you’re off the hook too.”
“Off the hook?” He sat on the other end of the couch and tilted his head, considering her. “What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t have to hang around, feeling like you need to babysit me or something. I’m fine now.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak, so she continued. “I know neither of us planned on this. I mean, it was supposed to be well, a fling. If I hadn’t broken my arm and had to have a stupid operation I’d have been gone by now.” He just looked at her. Not saying a thing, leaving her to twist in the wind.
“Don’t feel like you have to keep seeing me. I totally understand if you don’t want to… continue this. You and me, I mean.”
“Are you finished?” She nodded. “Are you kicking me out like you did your brothers? Is that what you want?”
No. Oh hell, no. But should she tell him that? “I—the point is—I don’t—” Crap, just spit it out. “I don’t want you to think I expect more than you’re willing to give. You’re under no obligation—you never were, but—”
“Okay, stop. This is a remarkably foolish conversation.”
“No, it’s not. I—”
He held up a hand. “What gave you the idea that I come see you out of a sense of obligation? I’m here because I like you. I like being with you. I assumed if you didn’t feel the same, you’d let me know it. Is this you letting me know it?”
