Prescription for Love

by Radclyffe

“Oh God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “No reason you should have. My father was there, as much as he could be, but it was my mother who was always there, for everyone, all the time. More than anyone.” Flann grimaced. “More than me, for sure. I…I didn’t handle Kate being sick very well.”

  “You couldn’t have been very old yourself.”

  “Old enough to be a hell of a lot stronger than I was.” Flann’s voice was tinged with bitterness and self-reproach. “Harper was the strong one. No surprise there. I decided to rebel instead. I was pretty much a jerk, really.”

  Abby grasped Flann’s hand and squeezed. “That must have been a terrible time for everyone. And not everyone handles that kind of loss the same, especially not at first.”

  “Yeah, well, my mother and Harper did just fine,” Flann said softly. “You’ll like my mother. You’re like her.”

  “I am?” Abby caught her breath. “Why?”

  Flann drew their clasped hands onto her thigh, gripping her fingers tightly. Her dark eyes held no levity, only solemn sincerity. “She’s strong, fierce, protective of us. She’s never let any of us down, ever.”

  “Thank you,” Abby said softly. “I’m not at all sure I’m that strong, but I’m honored that you think so.”

  “I know so.”

  The front door opened and a woman looking like a regal version of Harper walked out. She called down to them, “Are you planning to bring her in for breakfast, Flannery, or let her starve out here?”

  Flann grinned and pushed open the car door just as Carrie pulled in behind them. “We’re coming, Mama.”

  Abby followed her out, for once as happy as Flann to pretend all that mattered was medicine and an occasional good time. She already liked the serious side of Flann a little too much for comfort, or safety.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Abby climbed the steps to meet Flannery’s mother, more nervous than she had any reason to be. She rarely worried about the impression she made, but this meeting had an air of importance others didn’t. She remembered the way Flann spoke of her mother, with deep affection and a little awe. This woman was Flann’s hero. Abby held out her hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

  “I’m sorry it took a night like last night to get us in the same house.” Ida squeezed Abby’s hand in both of hers. “My apologies, Dr. Remy, for not having you out to dinner when you arrived.”

  “Oh no, please. Call me Abby, and apologies are not—”

  “Nonsense. My daughter knows better. Now go into the kitchen, you two.” Ida slid an arm around Abby’s waist and gently but firmly led her forward.

  Helplessly, Abby glanced over her shoulder at Flann, who merely grinned, shrugged, and fell into line.

  The kitchen looked completely different than the last time Abby’d seen it. The table had been righted and put back into its original position, the rain-streaked floor scrubbed, the counters wiped down, and the windows cleaned. The one over the sink was cracked, she noted, and the back door stood open to the morning without benefit of the screen door, which was propped against the railing. “You’ve done a lot of work in here. What else can I help you with?”

  “Not a thing,” Ida said. “Blake and Margie pitched in. You can help me best by sitting right there at the table and drinking the coffee I just made.”

  “Where is my son? Not in the barn, I hope.” The box of chicks still sat in the corner with the new addition of two lamps shining into it. “I know they were worried about the kittens.”

  “I told them the barn was off-limits until Flannery and Harper got a good look at it in daylight. I sent the two of them off to shower. They both looked as if they’d crawled out of a mud pit.”

  “Uh…” Abby said.

  “Separate bathrooms,” Ida said without turning around. She set a flame under a cast-iron pan and laid strips of bacon into it. “What’s wrong with your leg, Flannery O’Connor?”

  “Just a scratch, Mama.”

  “Then why are you limping?”

  Ida hadn’t raised her voice or even glanced at Flann, but Flann actually squirmed in her chair. Abby watched, fascinated, and shook her head when Flann sent her an imploring look.

  “A little stiff, that’s all. It’s fine.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Ida cracked brown-shelled eggs into a big ceramic bowl. “How are things at the hospital?”

  “Under control, Mama.” Obviously relieved at the change in subject, Flann poured coffee for Abby, set a small pitcher of cream next to her cup, and sat next to her. “Abby’s got the ER humming like a watch.”

  “Nothing too serious last night, I hope.”

  Flannery grabbed a roll from a basket on the table, broke off a piece, and munched it. She passed the basket to Abby, who took one, suddenly ravenous. “Mostly broken bones, although Fred Endee gave us a little bit of a challenge with a punctured lung.”

  Flannery’s mother shot her a look. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he? You know his wife hasn’t been doing well for the last couple of years. If the both of them are laid up, it will be a problem taking care of Patty at home.”

  “I hope to have him out of bed tomorrow and home in a couple of days. I’ll ask Carson to get visiting nurses to stop by the house to check on Patty until then.”

  Ida nodded. “That sounds fine.”

  Presley, Carrie, and Glenn trooped into the kitchen from the back porch.

  “Oh my God, Ida, you’re a saint!” Carrie beelined for the coffeepot.

  Glenn pulled out a chair next to Abby. “I just called the ER. Dewers made it in, it’s quiet, and unless something changes, Dewers says for you to take half a shift off.”

  Six hours free. Abby sighed. “Glenn. Thank you for calling. My brain must not be firing on all cylinders, or I would have done that myself as soon as I got here.”

  “You would have as soon as you had something to eat,” Flann interjected abruptly. “Give yourself a break, Abby. You’re running on fumes.”

  Abby stared, surprised at the edge in Flann’s tone. “I didn’t do anything the rest of you—”

  “Flann’s right,” Glenn said, resting a hand on Abby’s forearm. “You saw twice as many patients as everyone else last night. You deserve to coast a few minutes, Abs.”

  Flann abruptly pushed back her chair and stalked out onto the back porch. Abby squelched the urge to follow. She’d seen Flann irritated, exhilarated, cool and calm, and forceful and commanding. She’d never seen the dark, brooding expression in her eyes before, and she wanted to soothe it away. Bad idea. Not her problem, and definitely not her woman to soothe. Still, the urge to go after her gnawed at her like an unfinished refrain.

  Presley paced, coffee cup in hand. “Ida, have you heard from Harper? I haven’t been able to reach her for the last few hours.”

  “The last I heard from her and her father was about midnight. They were heading out to start answering calls. I imagine—”

  “Hey, baby.” The back door opened wide and Harper strode in, her dark eyes alight and fixed on Presley.

  Presley set down her cup and launched herself at Harper all in one motion. “How are you? I was really worried.”

  Harper gathered her up, kissed her soundly, and after a long moment, let her go. “Everything’s good. Just tired.”

  Edward Rivers entered, glanced around the room, nodded to Abby and Glenn as if their presence was completely expected, and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Good morning, my dear. How was your night?”

  “I checked on the neighbors up and down River Road. Everyone was doing fine.” She wiped her hands on a towel and pressed her palm to her husband’s cheek. “Carson, Bill, and the baby are fine. They had some flooding and they’ll be busy with cleanup for a while, but nothing too bad.”

  “Good, thank you.”

  He covered her hand with his, turned her palm up, and kissed it. Ida smiled and turned back to the stove. Edward took off his suit jacket, shook out the wrinkles, and hung it carefully on a coat tree in
the corner. Tall, fit, and clear-eyed, he exuded quiet confidence. His white shirt had lost the creases in the sleeves, but he nevertheless looked as crisp and fresh as when Abby had been introduced to him in Presley’s office the first time. Abby could see Harper in his quiet surety, just as she could see Flann in Ida’s brisk authority and effortless command. Edward accepted a cup of coffee from Harper and sat at the head of the table. Everyone else filled in on either side. Flannery, Abby noticed with an odd twist of disappointment, sat at the opposite end of the table and did not glance her way.

  Keeping half an ear out for some sign of Blake and Margie, Abby joined in as Edward, Harper, and Flannery brought each other up to date on patients and follow-up situations. Presley and Carrie, both looking tired but content, sipped their coffee and quietly made plans to draw up emergency protocols for similar situations.

  Just as Ida began placing breakfast on the table, Blake and Margie tumbled into the kitchen like a pair of playful puppies. Blake’s hair was damp and stood on end as if he’d toweled it dry and not bothered to comb it. He wasn’t usually so casual about his appearance, especially not recently. He wore a blue-denim button-down shirt and faded jeans, both at least a size too big for him, and a wide grin. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, hon—Blake. Hi, Margie.”

  “Hi, Dr. Remy.” Margie had scooped her long blond hair into a green John Deere cap and pulled the damp strands through the back tab. She wore shorts and a scrub top with flip-flops. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Good morning, darlin’,” Edward said, pausing in his conversation with Harper.

  Ida said, “Presley, I hope you don’t mind, I raided your laundry room and grabbed some clothes from the clean pile for these two. I recognized Harper’s and figured they’d do better for Blake.”

  “No, of course I don’t mind.” Presley smiled at Harper and took her hand.

  Blake dropped into a free chair and Margie took one beside him. Abby couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him so unselfconscious and confident. She caught her lip between her teeth and swallowed hard. She just had to make everything here work out.

  Ida took her seat and everyone attacked the food. The breakfast was delicious, although Abby was almost too tired to eat it. Now that she was sitting, she realized how long it’d been since she’d had to work straight through the night with no relief. Everyone at the table was tired, but an undercurrent of exhilaration filled the room all the same. They’d faced down a crisis and everyone had spent the night doing what they did best. Despite the fatigue, the satisfaction won out.

  Abby joined Ida at the sink when everyone had finished and started piling their plates on the counter by the sink. “Really, I’d like to help.”

  “Ordinarily, Flannery and Harper would have dish duty,” Ida said, rinsing dishes and stacking them. “Under the circumstances, they’ll get a pass this morning. You too.”

  “Oh, really, I’d like to—”

  “I’m just going to fill the dishwasher and run it, and the rest of these can wait until later. Everyone should take a nap.”

  “That should include you too, then,” Abby said. “You’ve been up all night.”

  Ida smiled. “When you raise a house full of medical people, you get used to that. I’ll get my rest this afternoon when you all head back to the Rivers.”

  “You’ve raised a wonderful bunch, every one of them,” Abby said.

  “I’d be bragging if I agreed, but I can’t argue.” A glow of pride passed over Ida’s strong, bold features. “Your son seems to have handled the excitement of the evening very well himself.”

  Abby smiled at Blake. He and Margie were discussing something while staring earnestly into the chicks’ box. “He seems to have fallen in love with all things farm related. I have no idea why. I would have sworn he would always be a city boy.”

  “Some just take to it, like it’s in the blood. He might be one of those.”

  “Margie’s a wonderful teacher.” Abby met Ida’s steady gaze. “She’s just the kind of friend I was hoping he’d find.”

  “It looks like the two of them have taken to each other.”

  Abby tensed. Blake hadn’t talked to her about how he identified sexually, but his affection for Margie was obvious. Maybe Ida wouldn’t find Blake ideal friend material if she thought their friendship might become more than that.

  “It’s nice to see two kindred spirits connect,” Ida said.

  A weight lifted from Abby’s heart. “It is.”

  “Although I’ll wager the two of them are capable of raising a bit of Cain, if I know my daughter.”

  Abby laughed. “The two of us ought to be able to handle them.”

  “Most assuredly.” Ida glanced over to where Flannery and Harper were discussing patients who needed follow-up. “Exactly how serious is Flannery’s leg?”

  Abby hesitated.

  “She was limping when she came in, and she’s favoring it even when she’s sitting down,” Ida said.

  “I guess the kids didn’t tell you they were in the barn when it came down during the storm.”

  “They were too busy trying to explain why there was a rooster perched on top of one of the kitchen chairs when I came in this morning.”

  Abby folded her arms, just the memory of the night before giving her a chill. “Flann went after them when we saw the tornado touch down. I think she probably saved them from serious injury. She sustained a fairly deep laceration on her leg. It should be fine. I sutured it this morning.”

  “Did you now.”

  “I am an ER physician. It wasn’t—”

  “Oh, I have no doubt you’re more than qualified. Flannery, however, isn’t an easy patient. There were times when she was younger I practically had to tie her down so her father could to tend to some injury or other.”

  Abby smiled, watching Flann run a hand through her hair, a habit that only left her tousled locks more ruffled and her looking even more attractive. She was dangerously good-looking, and Abby had to work at not staring whenever they were in the same space. “I found threats to be effective.”

  Ida chuckled. “You seem to be fitting in very nicely.”

  Abby met Ida’s gaze. “I hope so. I want things to work out with…here.”

  “I can’t think of any reason why they shouldn’t.”

  At that moment, Flannery caught Abby’s gaze, and the dark brooding stare slowly turned to a simmering perusal that bordered on indecent. Deliciously indecent. Abby’s heart sped up, and heat flooded her cheeks. She hoped Flannery’s mother didn’t notice it, but of course not very much escaped Ida Rivers’s notice.

  “Now,” Ida said, “a few hours’ sleep will do you good. This place has a slew of bedrooms on the second floor. Presley and Harper have the room on the left at the top of the stairs and Carrie’s is on the right all the way at the back. Any of the other ones are fine.”

  Abby needed to wrangle her emotions back in line more than she needed sleep. Escape was her best option. At least then she wouldn’t be anywhere near Flann in a weakened state, since she couldn’t seem to resist her outrageous appeal. “I should just drive Blake home and—”

  “Nonsense. That will take extra time, and you’re already tired. You could get a call at any time.” Ida crooked a finger at Flannery. “Flannery, take Abby upstairs and find a bedroom for her. You too. Get some sleep.”

  Flannery rose, her grin widening as Abby blushed furiously. “Sure thing, Mama.”

  Abby surrendered. “Blake, I’ll be upstairs. If you need—”

  “All’s good, Mom. See you.”

  “Right.” Abby sighed and followed Flann into the hall and up the wide curving staircase. “Outnumbered and outvoted.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Flannery pushed open a big oak door in the center of the hall. “Sorry if my mother made you uncomfortable.”

  “No, she didn’t,” Abby said. “To be perfectly honest, it’s nice to be so well taken care of, I’m just not used to it.”


  “That’s too bad.” Flann motioned Abby inside. “You don’t need it, maybe, but you deserve to be tended to now and then.”

  Abby laughed, embarrassed by the attention and a little breathless from the yearning Flann’s words stirred. Flann kept blindsiding her with these tender statements out of nowhere that struck a deep chord inside her. What had she revealed that let Flann see her secret needs so clearly, when no one else ever had? She turned to the room to hide her confusion. “This is a fabulous place. I could hide out here forever!”

  The big, bright, high-ceilinged room faced a sweeping panorama of green pastures and distant mountains beneath a robin’s-egg-blue sky. Swaying branches of an oak tree framed the bay window with its wide, deep rose-patterned cushions, and the early morning sunlight fanned across wide plank floors in a golden tide. A big four-poster bed stood against one wall, the covers turned down, and a pile of white ruffled pillows beckoned. It looked so inviting she almost wept. “I didn’t realize how tired I was. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to go to sleep.”

  Flann let the door ease closed behind her. Abby’s face glowed in the slivers of sunlight showering her form. She’d pulled out the tie holding back her hair and thick waves tumbled onto her shoulders. Flann’s fingers itched to dive into them. Her throat suddenly dry, she rasped, “A little sleep is better than none, especially if it gets busy later. A couple hours, and we’ll head back.”

  Abby was suddenly aware they were alone and the bed suddenly looked less inviting and a lot more threatening. Flann stood absolutely still only inches away, but she seemed to fill the space with pent-up energy and heat. Abby pulsed inside, a warning and a plea. She couldn’t look at her, didn’t dare see her own desire reflected in Flann’s dark gaze, couldn’t bear the disappointment if she didn’t. “Yes, well, you should get some sleep too.”

  Somewhere else, anywhere but here. Go. Go away before I beg you not to.

  “I will, in a little while. I never really thanked you for looking after me earlier,” Flann said.

  Abby took a breath, chanced a glance into her eyes. God, she had beautiful eyes. Bittersweet chocolate this morning, flecked with gold. They spoke, her eyes, of passion and pleasure. “You don’t need to thank me. You might have saved my son’s life, and you got hurt in the process. And even if that hadn’t been the case, I wanted to look after you.”