Prescription: Love

by Pamela Toth

  “I had a good time,” she said politely as she dug out her key. “And thanks again for the ride home.”

  A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Don’t blame Cam for bailing on you,” he said, speaking rapidly. “I paid him.”

  Zoe frowned, confused. “He said he had to get home and let the dog out before it piddled on the carpet.”

  “Cam doesn’t have a dog. I gave him twenty bucks to tell you that.”

  “I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before,” she admitted, stunned by his confession. “I hope the kiss was worth it.”

  “Every penny.” There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his voice.

  What could she possibly say—that she was pleased to hear it? “Good night, then.”

  Still slightly dazed, she went inside and shut the door, locking it carefully before she fell back against it on legs that trembled. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the tingle of his mouth touching hers.

  After a frustrating night, Chris’s day off work began with a call from his younger sister, Hope, who shared an apartment in Missoula with his youngest sister, Jill. Although Hope had a decent job with an insurance company, she was always short of funds.

  “I’m two months behind on my Visa payment,” she told him tearfully. “I hate to ask, but the dentist bill took all my spare cash. Could I borrow some money?”

  Chris raked a hand through his hair, doing his best to keep the frustration from his voice. “I thought you paid off your credit card with the money I sent you in January.”

  “I needed a new coat.” Her voice iced over. “What did you expect, for me to get pneumonia? Would you rather get stuck paying big fat medical bills while my credit goes into the toilet?”

  Eyes closed, he shook his head.

  “I don’t know why I call you.” She rushed on while he silently counted to ten. “You’re just like Dad.”

  “Hope,” Chris interrupted quietly, trying to head off the worst of the tirade.

  Her voice ratcheted up a notch. “I don’t know why I bother asking for help. You want me to fail so I’ll have to move back home and live under your thumb.”

  No way! Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve offered to help you draw up a budget,” he said when she paused for breath.

  “That would be wonderful,” she replied, switching direction again with the abruptness of a quick-change artist. “I promise, as soon as I get caught up on everything, I’ll take you up on that. I really, really will this time.”

  He’d heard it all before, he thought as her voice droned on like the whine of a mosquito in his ear. Hope was looking for a handout, not advice. No doubt she’d hit up their folks for help before calling him. Either she hadn’t been able to reach them or they’d gotten tougher and turned her down this time.

  Chris glanced at the clock. They were probably out on the golf course.

  “How much is it that you need?” he asked abruptly, interrupting her stream of empty promises.

  “What?” Obviously his capitulation had caught her off guard, but she recovered quickly, naming an amount he knew was higher than her first request.

  “I’ll send you a check.” Where had he gone wrong? “How’s Jill? Is she there?” He refrained from pointing out that they seldom called unless they needed something.

  “Um, no,” Hope replied, sounding rushed now that she had gotten what she wanted. “Jill had an early class, but I’ll tell her hi for you.”

  “Listen,” he said, shifting the phone to his other ear. “About that budget—”

  “Can we talk about it later?” she asked. “If I don’t get in the shower right this minute, I’m going to be late for work.” She laughed lightly. “You don’t want me to get fired, do you?”

  “What I want is to help you get back on track,” he said, but he already knew he was talking to himself.

  “I know, I know,” she chanted. “Could you send the check today?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll pick some cash off the money tree out back.” He heard the sound of running water in the background.

  “Gotta go. Love and kisses,” she said. “Bye.”

  Before he could reply, the connection went dead. Muttering a couple of choice words, he slammed down the receiver and headed for the bathroom.

  After he’d dressed and completed his morning chores, he returned to the house. Pacing the kitchen like a caged lion, he reached for the phone a dozen times before changing his mind. Twice he nearly tripped over Ringo as the dog followed him anxiously.

  “Dammit!” Chris’s exasperation finally poured out. “Go lay down!”

  Ears flattened to his head, tail drooping, Ringo slunk away to crouch beneath the dining room table.

  Instantly Chris felt a wave of remorse. He had no right to take his frustration out on man’s best friend.

  He bent over and peered at Ringo. “Jeez, I’m sorry.”

  Head resting on his paws, Ringo didn’t move.

  Getting down on all fours, Chris crawled under the table and extended his hand. It took several moments of coaxing, but the dog finally relented and gave it a halfhearted lick.

  Feeling only slightly better, Chris backed out the way he had come and got to his feet. He walked over to the front window and stared at the view without seeing a thing.

  He couldn’t very well call Labor and Delivery in the vague hope of catching Zoe between patients. Leaving a message that he couldn’t wait to see her again would be equally ineffective—except perhaps to fuel the hospital gossip mill. Besides, what could he say to her—were you as shaken by that kiss as I was? Did you lie awake and think about me? Questions like those were guaranteed to spook her like a skittish horse in a fireworks factory.

  Totally frustrated, he grabbed the phone and called Faith to see if she had plans, but she had been summoned to the other end of the county. His calf-roping buddies were busy, the stock was all fed and the stalls were clean. He had intended on pushing the vacuum while he dealt with the laundry, but the sky was too clear, the air too clean and he was too damned restless to stay indoors. Finally he thought of Willie.

  An hour later, the retired bull rider showed up with his saddle loaded into the back of his old pickup truck. Together they worked Denver and another of Chris’s Quarter Horses. Eventually the mounts began to tire, so the men unsaddled, cooled and brushed them before turning them out.

  “How about a cold one?” Chris asked.

  Willie’s weathered face creased into a smile. “Sounds great.”

  Since Chris was technically on call, he grabbed a beer for Willie and a soda for himself from the small fridge in the tack room. As they nursed their drinks, they leaned against the fence and watched the horses graze.

  “Denver’s coming along,” Willie commented between swallows. “You going to try him out?”

  Chris took a hefty swig of his cola. “I figured on hitting a couple of the smaller shows first,” he replied, referring to the scattering of weekend rodeos held in neighboring towns. Amateur riders like Chris competed in every event from calf roping and steer wrestling to racing barrels and busting broncs. Some did it for the experience, with the hope of moving up to bigger shows and bigger purses. Others, like Chris, just liked to compete.

  “What else is new with you?” Willie asked casually.

  When Chris looked at him from the corner of his eye, Willie stared straight ahead, as if mesmerized by the sight of grazing horses.

  The two men had been friends for a long time, but Chris had been raised to work things out himself while he looked out for everyone else, not to ask for advice in how to run his life. As he tipped back his head and swallowed the last of his soda, the impulse to confide in Willie passed.

  “Nothing much happening,” Chris said as he bent to pat Ringo. “How about you? Heard from your sister lately?”

  “She may come out this summer.” Willie pushed back the brim of his battered Stetson. “Florida gets muggy and she’s looking for a break.”

  C
hris was about to reply when the cell phone clipped to his belt signaled a call from the E.R. Excusing himself, he answered.

  “Dr. Taylor, I hate to ask on your day off,” said the triage nurse, speaking quickly, “but we’re short-staffed due to a conference in Butte. A woman with possible internal injuries from a beating was just brought in and two victims of a car accident are on their way. Can you come?”

  A bolt of intuition shivered through him. “The woman, what’s her name?” he asked.

  Hoping he was wrong, he listened to the nurse shuffle papers.

  “Anna Minsky.”

  His fingers tightened on the cell phone. “I’ll be right there. Meanwhile see if Dr. Hart is up in Labor and Delivery. She’d want to know about Anna.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You look hot today, Doc.” The middle-aged lab tech’s gaze settled a few inches below Zoe’s face as he stepped in front of her, blocking her path and slowing her headlong departure from the hospital at the end of her shift.

  Her hand itched to slap away his smirk, but she knew better than to let him provoke her. She settled for a contemptuous glare as she went around him. If she didn’t get out of here now, she was going to lose it.

  “Stuck-up,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear as she walked away.

  Moments later, she passed the security guard, waving her hand in acknowledgment before bolting through the front doors. The lump in her throat was so big that it threatened to choke her. Her vision blurred and her stomach churned as she hurried across the empty parking lot. Silently she prayed to reach her car without running into anyone she knew.

  She kept hearing the pleading in Anna Minsky’s voice before she’d been wheeled up to surgery with internal bleeding.

  “It was my fault,” Anna had whispered to Zoe. “He didn’t mean it.”

  Zoe knew that Anna wouldn’t press charges, nor would she talk to a counselor. The next time—and there would be a next time—Anna’s journey might take her directly to the morgue.

  With a gasp of relief, Zoe reached her car. She hit the remote, fumbled open the door and almost fell into the front seat. She beat her hands against the steering wheel to vent some of her frustration, but then a car drove by and the driver gave her a startled look. Feeling slightly foolish, she took several deep, steadying breaths as she stared unseeing through the windshield.

  For once Zoe regretted not living with the other residents, because it would be nice to go home and talk shop. She thought about stopping at the pub to see if anyone she knew was there, but the idea of walking in alone was too distasteful.

  If she went back to her apartment feeling so churned up, she would never be able to sleep tonight. She considered trying to find Vadivu, or even Barb, gave Chris a brief, longing thought and then dug her cell phone from her bag. She owed her mother a call and she really needed to hear a caring voice.

  Patrice answered on the first ring. “Hi, Baby. How are you?” As usual, her voice sounded rushed, as though she was urging Zoe to hurry up and get to the point. “I’m on my way out the door for a meeting,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course,” Zoe replied automatically. “But I—”

  “I was starting to worry, since I haven’t heard from you in so long,” her mother interrupted. “You must be really, really busy.”

  Guilt flushed through Zoe, even though she sent regular e-mails. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “My hours are so irregular and you’re hard to catch.”

  “So it’s my fault?” Patrice asked, voice rising. “I see. I’ll try harder to be available for you even though I’m working hard to pay for the rent on your apartment and the car.”

  “I didn’t ask for either of them,” Zoe protested without thinking. Damn. Now she sounded ungrateful.

  The silence on the line sent a fresh knot of tension to her stomach as she tried desperately to figure out where she had gone wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” she began again, but her apology was interrupted by an audible sigh.

  “I just want you to be safe,” Patrice said softly. “Is that so wrong?”

  “No, of course not. I do appreciate everything,” Zoe insisted. “I just called because—”

  “So your work is going well?” Her mother’s tone had brightened.

  “Pretty much,” Zoe agreed. “I had this patient tonight, though—”

  “Baby, I hate to interrupt, but I have to meet a client,” Patrice said. “He wants a second look at a listing in Bel Air. You know what that means.”

  “Big commission,” Zoe replied. “I understand. Well, good luck.”

  “Thanks, Baby. I’ll let you know if they buy it. Gotta run. Kiss, kiss.”

  Before Zoe could say goodbye, the line went dead. Biting her lip, she glanced at the luminous face of her watch. Her father would be home by now, his cell phone turned off. She dialed his other number, hoping his new wife didn’t answer.

  After three rings, there was a click and a message began in the voice of a very young child. Zoe’s half brother, Marcus. Part of the way through his stumbling, too-cute recitation of their phone number, Zoe gave up in disgust. At least if she drove home, she could write a couple of e-mails on her laptop. Perhaps then she might feel better.

  Zoe hadn’t noticed anyone following her out of the hospital lot, but another vehicle pulled in behind her when she parked in front of her building. In the bright glow of the headlights, all she could make out was a truck with one person inside.

  Half the people in town drove pickup trucks.

  Perhaps it was a stalker, she thought on a wave of grim humor as she got out of her car, purse held firmly in one hand and front door key in the other. She could tell him about her crappy day.

  As she glanced behind her, the headlights went out abruptly. It would probably serve her flip attitude right if she was being followed. A shiver of nerves ran through her. She wasn’t really crazy enough to hope for a confrontation with a stranger just because she was frustrated.

  With the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she got out of her car, set the alarm and wrapped her fingers around the pepper-spray container in her coat pocket. Her other hand was curled into a fist with her door key protruding between two fingers like a weapon as she hurried down the path to her unit.

  “Zoe, wait. It’s just me.”

  She turned to see Chris standing by his truck. Gulping in a deep breath, she let go of the pepper spray and uncurled her fist.

  “I’m sorry about Anna,” he said, coming to a stop on the pathway a dozen feet from her as though he wasn’t sure of his welcome. “I saw you leave work, so I just wanted to make sure that you’re all right.”

  Something inside her that had been wound so tight she had feared it might pull apart gave way abruptly. With it came a flood of emotion she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding back since her last glimpse of Anna’s gurney disappearing into the elevator.

  Zoe heard a sob. She was shocked to realize the harsh sound had come from her. As she crammed her knuckles against her lips to stop their trembling, Chris opened his arms.

  Without hesitation, Zoe bolted. When she reached him, throwing her arms around his neck, he enfolded her in a hug that nearly lifted her off her feet. She pressed her face against the front of his jacket, too relieved to speak.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair, swaying gently back and forth as he held her tight. “Shh. It’s okay now.”

  She melted against him, soaking up his warmth. Under her cheek, she could feel the reassuring beat of his heart.

  “How did you know to come?” she choked.

  His chest expanded when he drew in another breath. “Call it doctor’s intuition.”

  She looked into his eyes, as dark as the faraway ocean. “Will you come in?” she asked. “I don’t want to be alone.” It was a huge admission for her to make, but she was afraid he might leave.

  Except for a slight tightening of his arms, he didn’t react.

  “
You need me to listen?” he asked. “I’m good at that.”

  “I need you,” she repeated helplessly. “Not to listen.”

  “You’re vulnerable right now,” he argued as though he knew her better than she did herself, but she could feel his reaction as she snuggled against him. He, too, was vulnerable, but in an entirely different way.

  If she didn’t find an outlet for the emotions roiling inside her, she was going to explode. Impatiently she jerked away from him. “I know what I want and it’s not a willing ear.”

  A muscle flexed in his cheek. He tipped up her chin with his fingers, studying her through narrowed eyes. Something in her face must have convinced him, because he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers in a brief, hard kiss.

  “Okay, then. I’m your man.” His voice was harsh. Bending down, he scooped her into his arms and carried her effortlessly toward her unit.

  “Someone might see us,” she said without really caring. “Everyone knows you.”

  “My reputation with Mr. Gale is already shot,” he countered. “I’ve got nothing else to lose. How about you? Worried?”

  “Not a bit.” At least not about the neighbors, but she wasn’t too sure about her feelings.

  The moment he got her inside the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, she pulled his head down for another heated kiss. This time it lasted until they were both breathless.

  Chest heaving, he let her slide down his aroused body until she stood on her own shaky legs. Face flushed, gaze locked on hers in the faint light from the street, he peeled off his jacket and let it drop to the floor while she did the same. After another passionate embrace, she grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. Here, too, the blinds failed to block all the light from outside. The bed and the other pieces of furniture were faintly visible.

  The working part of her brain was glad she had left the room neat and the bed made when she’d left for work this morning, but the rest of her just wanted him naked as quickly as possible.