Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel)

by Weston Parker

"Hold on." He gunned the ATV forward with enough force to free them from the mud, and also to slam her back against the seat. Her breath whooshed from her body, but she grabbed the handgrip and held on for dear life.

  She could barely see anything in the driving rain, and she wondered how Caleb was able to navigate. He swung the vehicle off the main path and onto a tight deer run. Branches whacked the side of the cab as they sped up a long incline.

  "Where are you going? This isn't the way to your cabin!"

  "I don't think we've got time to make it to my place. There's a small hunting shack not far from here. It's in a stand of trees at the top of a small hill and should be high enough up to be safe."

  She looked into his face and read doubt. His scowl seemed set in stone. She looked away, fear crawling down her spine like a supplicant before its master. If Caleb had doubts, how bad could the situation really be?

  She'd read about mudslides; she knew how damaging they could be. Even if the mud missed you, the debris it carried could still do damage. And the debris it would pick up here in the forest was worrying.

  Dani looked up at the towering pines, wondering how much mud it would take to dislodge one from its home and carry it across the forest to batter against the side of an old hunting shack. The water still rushed behind them, and Dani couldn't stop herself from grabbing his arm, clenching her fingers tight around the hard muscle. Would they really be safe?

  She had no more time for questions as they pulled up in front of the shack. Caleb looked at her and gently removed her hand from his arm. "Stay here."

  He climbed from the ATV, taking along her two bags and sleeping bag. He slung both rolls over his right shoulder and tucked the bag under his arm, then jogged to the back of the vehicle where he pulled out a canvas pouch from the storage compartment beneath one of the seats.

  The ranger ran up to the shack and pushed against the door, but it wouldn't budge. He stepped back and in a quick motion forcefully kicked the door. It swung inward, and he disappeared inside.

  In seconds he was back out again and heading towards her. He bent and slid his arm under her legs, then picked her up again and jogged towards the hunting shack. Stepping inside he put her down and slammed the door shut.

  Dani looked around at the small one-room shack. The room was dark and almost empty, except for the built-in furniture. Along one wall was the outline of a wooden bench, which appeared hard and uncomfortable. The opposite wall held a bed that came out of the wall about 4 feet off of the ground, with a small ladder at one end for climbing up. It was covered in a thin padding that looked old and worn.

  Beneath the bed was an empty wire spool that must have been used for a table, but there were no chairs. At the far end of the shack was a rusty iron stove that had definitely seen better days. Sadly there was no firewood stacked beside the stove.

  Caleb was watching her when she turned back to face him. "Well," she said with a half-smile. "Now what?"

  Chapter 9

  The interior of the small shack was dim, and until Caleb pulled out a small electric lantern from his bag, everything had a sinister, shadowy quality. The lantern did little to drive away the dark chill of the place, but at least she could see the ranger's rugged features.

  At that moment Dani forgot to be mad at him. "Thank you," she said, sincerity ringing like a bell in her voice. "I could have been injured, or worse."

  His cool blue eyes met hers for a moment, and Dani felt a strange but comforting heat fill her body. He quickly looked away. "Don't mention it."

  Caleb dug in his bag and began pulling out supplies. He set two-liter bottles of water, a sealed package of jerky, another of trail mix, a first aid kit, a flashlight, and a plastic box holding spare batteries and a wind-up radio on the table.

  "This is the emergency pack I keep in the ATV," he told her as he arranged the items on the table. "It isn't much, but it should last us until we can make our way out of here."

  "And how long do you think that will be?" she asked him as she squatted next to her duffel bag and began removing her specimen jars.

  "Not before tomorrow morning, that's for sure." He straightened and watched her set the three frog containers on the table. "And just what are these?" he asked, humor and frustration warring in his voice.

  "These are my latest specimens," she announced. "I plan on taking them into the lab next week for analysis and dissection. I hope my findings will support the theory that they are separate species."

  "I told you to grab the essentials, and you bring three frogs?"

  "They ARE essential!" she protested, unable to see the smirk on his shadowed face. "Besides...they could have been hurt."

  "Hurt?!?" His voice was incredulous. "But you just said you were going to dissect them!"

  "I know, but...oh forget it, you wouldn't understand."

  Caleb laughed. "You're right, I probably wouldn't."

  Dani felt a smile turn up the corners of her mouth and she barely kept herself from giggling. Unfortunately, a sudden chill ran through her, and she shook, her fingers barely able to re-zip her duffel.

  "You're cold," she heard him say, his voice turning gruff. He unrolled her sleeping bag and slid it around her shaking shoulders. "It's going to be a chilly night." He frowned at the place where a stack of firewood should be. "With all this rain it'll be impossible to find any dry wood, even if there wasn't a biblical-level flood going on."

  His words seemed to conjure the storm again, and Dani heard several large groans outside of the shack. One particularly loud one was followed by a huge crack, and the thump of a tree hitting the ground. The shack shook around them, and Dani again wondered about the probability of debris taking out the shelter they'd found.

  Her anxious eyes found his and couldn't hide their fear. His features tightened, his lips drawing into a thin line. It seemed her fright galvanized him into action and he reached up to the bed in the wall and pulled the thin padding off of it, setting it in front of the stove.

  "I know you must have packed your notes and books," he told her as he made his way back to the bunk. "You got anything in there you can spare?"

  "Spare? What do you mean?"

  Caleb stood beside the bed, his large hands placed on the wooden bed frame that jutted out of the wall. "Anything we can burn?"

  "Burn? My notes? My BOOKS?" She didn't understand. "They won't burn for long, and we'll be just as cold as before, only I'll be without my necessary supplies!"

  "We just need them to get a fire started. And hopefully, we won't need much. Just see if you can find a few scraps of paper or something," he said, failing to hide his rising annoyance.

  "But what are you gonna burn?"

  "This," he said, and pulled hard against the wooden frame of the bunk. The nails gave a protesting shriek as the board pulled away. He'd started on the short side, pulling the four-foot long board away from the wall and struggling to detach it from the outer corner and its companion boards.

  Having freed the two-inch thick board, he angled it and brought it down against the edge of the large spool several times. At last the old board cracked and split in half. He then repeated the process with the smaller pieces. Finally, he had a small pile of wood before him and looked expectantly at her.

  Dani pulled open her pack and riffled through the papers it held. She didn't dare part with any of her own notes, but perhaps there was an article or two she could do without. She came across one entitled "The Inability of Frog Species to Coexist Peacefully" and yanked it out. "Here's one." She passed it to him.

  Caleb knelt on the pad before the wood stove and started to tear the article into smaller pieces. He arranged them carefully in the stove's iron belly, then frowned down at the pile of wood near his feet. "We still need some kind of kindling. See if you can find any small twigs or pine cones or something on the floors." He didn't sound too hopeful about finding anything, but as he bent to search the stove area for kindling, she sighed and did the same.

  Dani grabbed t
he flashlight from the makeshift table and began exploring the shack floor. She swung the light into the corners but found nothing. She fell to her knees before the bench and crouched down, shining the flashlight underneath. The light fell upon a dusty box shoved under the bench, one she must have missed in her earlier rudimentary inspection of the cabin. She tugged the box out from under the bench and opened it.

  "Found something," she said with a grin. Caleb stood and approached, bending over her to peer into the box. It was filled with various liquor bottles, each at least half-full.

  "Not gonna help much," the ranger said with a frown. "We could burn the box, though. Pull out those bottles and pass it over."

  She took the bottles out of the box, investigating each one. "Hmm, this is some expensive booze for a shack like this." She held one bottle up to the dim light, her tone filled with disbelief and wonder. "This is a forty-year old single malt scotch."

  "Unless there are some sticks in there, it won't help."

  "Maybe it won't help you," she said, unscrewing the lid of the scotch bottle, "but I could sure use a drink." She put the bottle to her lips and swallowed, the burning liquor scorching a path down her throat and into her worried belly.

  Sighing, she returned the cap. It might not get a fire started, but at least it helped calm her nerves.

  Dani brought the bottle with her to the table and set it down as she bent over her specimen. They looked no worse for wear, but they were being oddly quiet. It was said that animals can sense natural disasters and Dani wondered if the flood could account for their abnormal silence.

  Her gaze was drawn back to the scotch, and she wondered if another belt would bring her tranquility. Her eyes suddenly widened, realizing that she'd overlooked the obvious. "Hey, how many sticks do you need?"

  "As many as I can get," Caleb replied, his eyes still sweeping the floor for refuse.

  Dani popped the top off the first specimen container, making sure to keep an eye on the frog inside so that he didn't escape. She carefully brushed the leaves off the twigs stashed inside and then pulled the twigs out, stacking them on the table. She did the same thing to the other two containers, and in the end, she had a small pile of a dozen or so twigs.

  "Here," she said, walking over to him, her hands full of sticks. His eyes lit with amazement.

  "Where'd you get these?" he asked, and Dani thought she might have heard a hint of admiration in his deep voice.

  "Let's just say that the prisoners on Death Row won't miss their creature comforts that much."

  "Let's hope these are enough," he said, crouching before the stove again. For the next twenty minutes or so he carefully coaxed the paper and meager kindling to light, then huffed and puffed until the old lumber took flame. Finally, the fire was stable enough to leave alone, and he moved away from the stove, allowing a warm orange glow to blanket the room.

  * * * * *

  Turning away from the fire, Caleb found his companion on the bench huddled in the sleeping bag, her knees pulled up against her chest, and the bottle of scotch clutched in one hand. He pulled the bottle away from her, and she whined. "It's keeping me warm!"

  "You just feel warmer," he contradicted. "It actually cools the blood."

  "Whatever," she scowled, "the illusion is just as good as the reality sometimes."

  "I doubt that," he couldn't stop himself from saying as he looked into her dark eyes. Hunger filled him when his gaze traveled to her lips. The illusions of her that had filled his dreams every night could in no way compete with the reality of her satiny lips against his. She'd taken up residence in his fantasies, and nothing he did could dislodge her.

  Each night he was tortured by thoughts of kissing her, of touching her. He wondered if he'd ever see her fantastic breasts again if he'd ever taste them again. He longed to touch her silky smooth skin again, especially at the warm place between her thighs. He tore his eyes away from her, reining them in like wild horses he had to break, distracting himself by looking at the liquor bottle he'd liberated.

  The bottle was half-full of a light brown liquid that seemed to glow in the firelight. The label looked old, the cursive writing full of so many swirls it was almost difficult to read. Must be expensive, he thought, as it looked nothing like the cheap swill his parents had spent their last dimes on.

  "Why don't you move closer to the fire?" he asked when Dani shivered again. She nodded thankfully and moved down to sit on the mat before the warm stove. Caleb knew his pitiful pile of wood wouldn't last much longer, so he started back in on the bunk.

  The plywood bottom was already sagging with the absence of one of its supports, and it didn't take long for Caleb to pull it off from the rest of the beams. He then began pulling at the other support pieces. The bed came apart slowly and painfully, and Caleb was thankful the wood was so old.

  Several minutes later the bunk was reduced to a pile of boards and plywood. He carefully broke apart the wood into scraps small enough to burn, the whole demolition process taking an hour.

  While he worked, Dani continued imbibing. When he took his seat beside her, she gave him an unexpected grin. "Thank God you're the Mountain Man type," she said, weaving slightly beneath the sleeping bag. "I know I put up a convincing front, but I'm not really much of an outdoorswoman."

  "No," he gasped, once again pulling the bottle out of her hands. "What a shocking revelation!" He thought the sarcasm was clear, but she must have missed it.

  "I know, I know, who woulda thunk it? I'm from the big city. Dallas, Texas. Home of pit barbeque, football, oil barons, and the assassination of President Kennedy. Although it's not so polite to mention that last one. I'm used to big cars with steer horns welded to the front, to gents in ten-gallon hats and scantily clad cheerleaders. Oh, and buildings and restaurants and shopping. Not tents and log fires and endless rain."

  He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her ramblings, then moved the bottle to his other hand and winced. A quick inspection of his hands turned up several large splinters, plenty of scratches, and what looked like a gouge from one of the nails. Caleb grabbed one of the wood splinters and pulled, grunting as it came loose from his skin.

  "Hey," Dani whispered, finally focusing on his hands, "you're hurt."

  "I'm fine." He leaned forward to pull the first aid kit off the table.

  "Gimme that!" She grabbed the small white box away from him. For a drunk, she had quick reflexes. He probably shouldn't allow her to poke and prod at him, but he didn't want to ruin the comfortable atmosphere by starting another argument.

  She took one of his hands into hers after setting the box on her lap, then pulled out the flashlight and shined it down on his palm. She tsked softly and released his hand, pulling open the kit and finding an alcohol wipe. "Hold out your hands," she said, then paused before using the wipe. "This is gonna sting."

  "Do it." He clenched his teeth, but the sting wasn't so bad. Dani balled up the used wipe and threw it into the fire, then climbed out of the sleeping bag to dig through her toiletry case. "Good thing I brought this along," she said, pulling out some tweezers. She removed his many splinters, and Caleb closed his eyes.

  "Did I hurt you?" she asked softly, and he opened his eyes to look into her concerned face.

  "No. I just hate splinters. The thought of something under my skin makes me uncomfortable."

  "I understand," she said and giggled. "I've got just the prescription!" She pulled out the scotch and untwisted the cap from the bottle. "Take two swigs and call me in the morning."

  "I don't drink."

  It wasn't safe to drink. Not when your parents took to booze like a baby to mother's milk.

  "Don't think of it as drinking," she connived. "You're just taking your medicine." He wanted to laugh as she attempted an inebriated wink. "Besides, it's not like you're going to drive or operate heavy machinery."

  He wanted to agree with her logic. It would be nice to relax. Relax and forget his past. Forget the storm around them and the rivers of mud. Forg
et the miners threatening his park and the life he'd built for himself. It would feel good to forget.

  But could he risk releasing the stranglehold on his self-control? One more look into her warm brown eyes and he wanted to risk it all, risk anything just to lose himself in this moment, here with her. He took the bottle from her, holding it up to the firelight. The fiery liquid was the same color as her eyes.

  He took it as a sign.

  The scotch was sweeter than expected, perhaps due to the special oak-barrel aging process the label touted. The sweet suddenly turned to fire in his throat, and he wanted to cough, but he tried to hold it in, not wanting to look like a novice in front of company. His efforts were for naught, however, as in the next breath, he was coughing heavily.

  Dani laughed, a musical sound, like water tinkling over small stones. He smiled, his eyes beginning to water, and he noticed with surprise that she was hard at work on his hands and he didn't feel uncomfortable.

  "You really don't drink," she giggled. "Not even in college? I'm disappointed. I always secretly thought that the guys in the Forestry Program knew how to party."

  "Ha ha," he mouthed, and this time she picked up on his sarcasm. "Park rangers always have wood." It was one of those juvenile jokes that had been passed around the classrooms.

  "Are you gonna tell me that you didn't get laid in college?" she asked, relieving him of the bottle and taking another swig. She seemed no stranger to the burn. "Honey, I was born at night, but not last night."

  Caleb laughed in an attempt to deflect her probing, but the look in her eyes made him want to open up. "I didn't say that."

  Her mouth turned up in a grin, but it soon melted, a serious expression taking its place. She just looked at him, and suddenly he felt like one of her specimen like she was trying to see inside him, figure out how he worked.

  He thought about explaining, about telling her of his childhood spent at the mercy of two disinterested drunks, and the only thing they'd liked better than booze was fighting with each other. But he told no one these things.