ikissdhimbck | OOM sorta: Rooms, back door, stables, in the morning.

Her eyes quietly search him out, and she takes a long, deep breath as she searches for her words, nodding her head gently.

"A lot has happened," she says, softly, the hand at her throat slowly moving from his wrist.

"But you bein' honest means a lot," she continues, as that hand creeps up the back of his neck and into his hair. "Means an awful lot. You tellin' me the truth."

They've still got a ways to go, but they're getting there.

"I told you I was gonna."

And he's kept that promise. Doc's not stupid when it comes to things that matter this much, at least not twice.

Her gloves are cold and it gives him a chill when she grazes the back of his neck, but he doesn't mind it all that much. The hand on her throat slides up to her jaw, and then he leans down and presses his lips gently against hers, lingering, hovering a moment.

"I keep my promises."

Be them good or bad.

And then he leans in and kisses her.

A shiver skates down her spine.

She returns the kiss, his words echoing in her ears.

'I keep my promises.'

That gloved hand tightens in the hair at the back of his neck, her still uneven breathing catching in her throat as she kisses him back, lips gently insistent, fingertips moving against the skin of his hand.

She's in no particular hurry to break the kiss this time.

His cheeks and nose are cold with the temperature of the air and from the race to the spot where they are now, but the rest of his body is warm, with her pressed against his chest and his arm wrapped around her middle.

Doc doesn't deepen the kiss (not much, anyway) but he takes his time in kissing her as properly as one can (which in the case of their time and upbringing, there's no chance in Hell of this ever being proper but that's beside the point) when he's at this angle.

He's in no hurry to break that kiss either.

It's his taste on her lips, and his breath across her face, and the cold breeze that keeps gusting up from time to time--the way his arm shifts around her middle--that sends a chill ripping through her body.

She pulls back from the kiss, giving herself a minute to savor it, though the insistent prickle of every tiny hair on her body standing on end is screaming at her.

She shifts in his embrace, turning to face him, her arms snaking around his middle as she draws him close to her body.

"We should probably get the horses turned out," she whispers against his chest, breathing in the sweet scent of hay and feed and him. But she doesn't move.

Not until she tips her head back again, and reclaims his lips.

Which Doc lets her do without hesitation.

The horses can wait a minute longer before getting their chance to play in the open, their chance in the cold mid-morning air.

"We should."

But he's in no hurry, and makes no effort at all to move, once they do break that kiss. Doc just leans his forehead against hers, gently, the long strands of his hair falling forward.

"M'thinkin' hirin' you was the smartest thing I ever done."

She can't help but laugh at that, her smile bright as her hands come to rest on either side of his face.

"You're probably right," she whispers, nuzzling him gently.

"Though, you might do well to 'hire me' as your barber once again, Outlaw."

She reaches into that mess of blonde hair, and tugs playfully.

He arches a playful eyebrow at her.

"And what would you say if I told you that this outlaw likes his hair long durin' the winter, hmm?"

Doc moves his hands to rest gently at either side of her waist, on top of that coat (though he wants to slip them under that coat so bad he can hardly stand it) and his touch light as a feather.

"It ain't like I'm t'tying it back, yet."

"I'd say you--"

Her voice catches when his hands come to rest at her hips, and she longs to feel the touch of his thumbs at her ribcage.

"--I'd say you're startin' to look like a ruffian again," she murmurs, her face pink. She chuckles softly.

"Though it does give me more to pull my hands through..."

Her arms loop around his neck while she's speaking, and she pulls the glove from one hand carefully, tucking at each finger before tugging off the leather. She repeats the action with her other hand. And when the gloves are off, she pulls one hand up into his blonde mess, slowly and tauntingly, the fingers of her other hand (still grasping gloves) threading into the hair at the nape of his neck, to keep his head steady.

"Now that just ain't fair, your hands all tucked in there like that..."

That's perfectly logical reasoning.

Doc shifts his hands and pushes the edges of her coat open just a bit as he slips his hands to her sides beneath that fabric, and he settles his hands there, still light, but much warmer, now.

"That, however, is more like it."

There's a hint of a spark in his eyes, what with her arms looped around his neck like so. He bites gently at his lower lip, pondering something with his eyes as he searches out her face. Just thinking, not moving just yet.

Her stomach jumps at the contact, and he might be able to feel the slight tremble of her body beneath his touch.

"Ain't f-fair, you robbin' a lady of her victory, either," she breathes, eyes shyly, but unfalteringly, meeting his gaze.

She searches him out right back.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" she whispers.

"Just thinkin'," he admits. "What I got to do today."

Spending time with his newest hire might be on that list.

"What I got to do to make up for stealin' your victory away. 'Sides buying you dinner, of course. Thinkin' 'bout those horses behind us. About Liberty. Just...thinkin'."

'Bout you and me. You and I.

"Yeah?" she murmurs, hands still working through his hair. Though, the motions are gentler now, more tender.

"Them good thoughts?"

"Real good thoughts."

A pause.

"S'a welcome change, if I'm bein' honest."

"Good," she hums, looking genuinely glad to hear it.

She lingers just a moment longer in the pleasantness of the moment.

Finally, she draws in a deep breath, and smiles.

"You're not settin' a very good work ethic, boss," she teases.

Doc laughs at that.

"I'm not, but, I suppose that's the advantage of bein' the boss, now ain't it? Gettin' to set your own work ethic as you choose to do so, how you choose to do so."

He leans in and briefly brushes his lips against hers, one more time.

"I like bein' the boss."

She giggles, somewhat wickedly, as he pulls away again, her arms threading back around his neck.

"I like you being the boss, too, though I don't want my fellow hands to resent me. Because, if it's not too bold to say so, I think I just might be the boss's favorite."

Unless she's completely mistaken.

"I won't tell, if you don't."

Not like it's not obvious.

Doc grins regardless. "Plus, they know how to respect a lady's right to privacy." He removes one of his hands (oh-so-reluctantly) from her side and tucks it into his pocket. "So we'll be fine. Get our work done, and nobody'll know."

She chuckles.

"If you say so."

When he pockets that one hand, she takes it as an invitation to shift in their embrace, arms uncurling from his neck as one slips around his lower back, and the other pockets a hand of her own.

She fits against him, snug against his side.

"It'll be our secret," she murmurs, tilting her head to grin up at him.

"Sounds like a plan t'me."

Doc tips his head towards the doorway around the corner and smiles.

"Now, c'mon, darlin'. We got work to do, and if you're expectin' me to eat that lunch you brought then I'm gonna have t'work for it."

"Oh, I'm expectin' it, all right," she laughs, following his lead back inside the stables.

They move through the rest of the morning's chores fairly quick, getting the horses out to pasture where Doc designates, and cleaning the stalls up once they're out. They still need to move Corella, but Doc seems undecided on whether or not they should bother her.

"I can take her out, while you look at Nova, if you like. She seems agreeable enough to let me lead her, at least," Katherine offers, pulling a lead rope through her hands.

"If you think you can handle her," he agrees, and then he nods in her direction. "She could use to get out, even if she doesn't quite think so herself, even."

The solid black gelding is still in his stall, watching them both curiously awaiting his turn to be turned out, as is Nova, but Doc'll wait until Katherine leads the mare out before even moving from where he's leaned against the wall.

Watching, just in case. It's not that he doesn't trust her, and not that he doesn't trust Corella to behave, it's just...precaution.

A smart precaution, as she is tiny in comparison to the pregnant mare. She grins at him.

"I've worked with ornery animals before," she shrugs. "Been kicked at, my fair share of times. Bucked, once or twice. Even bit."

She's got some right fancy scars to show for it, too. Though, she doesn't plan on adding to the collection today.

She moves cautiously back into Corella's stall, murmuring soft words of comfort as she slowly approaches. The mare's ears are perked to the utterances, though there is a definite stiffness to her stance that shows she's on edge.

It takes some convincing to get the lead on, but Katherine does so without incident. But as she's leading Corella out of the stall, the mare tosses her head suddenly, whinnying in protest.

"Shh, you're all right," she murmurs, not losing her calm. Her gloved hands tighten around the rope ever-so-slightly. "You're all right, baby. Just gonna take you out to some sunshine, where you can graze all by yourself. Take it easy."

Reluctantly, Corella finally consents, clip-clopping slowly out of the stables and into the paddock.

Doc stays put and still, across the way, arms crossed over his chest and eyes focused on the scene in front of him. When Corella does protest, sudden and loud, he manages somehow not to start on instinct. Him jumping would only make things worse.

Once she and the mare are out and on their way to the paddock, he moves to take Nova from his stall, and ties the lead around the nearest railing just to keep him in one place.

He's careful in his check of the animal, making certain that he looks completely healthy and ready to be ridden, including his shoes. If Katherine is going to be riding him (with plenty of hesitation on her part as it is) he doesn't want Nova to have anything wrong with him that might cause him injury (or her, for that matter) or distress.

"You're gonna be a good boy, ain't ya," he chatters with the gelding. "You're always a good boy, but today you're on your best behavior, you understand me?"

Nova is quite used to his hooves being picked up off the ground, and cooperates with the inspection. When she returns, she'll find the gelding gnawing happily on the carrot that Doc happens to be spoiling him with as a reward for not kicking him.

"He's gonna get fat, you know."

The statement is uttered from the doorway, where Katherine is leaning, arms crossed over her chest and legs crossed at the ankles, just watching the two of them interact. She grins, and nods once.

"Corella made it out just fine. She's found herself a nice little patch of grass, and is enjoying the sunshine."

Which is really an understatement for 'last I saw her, she was spread out like a dead fish, rolling in the grass as much as her pregnant belly would allow for.'

"How's he lookin'?" she asks, inclining her chin to Nova and stepping back over to him.

(The "aside from spoiled and on his way to a pot belly," is implied in the look she gives him.)

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