2. Prescription For Love

Abby seemed bent on denying Flann even existed, let alone stirred anything inside her. Maybe she had the right idea. Flann folded her arms as Abby put a maternal hand on Blake’s shoulder. Blake glanced at his mother with a quick smile. There was the bond Abby cherished, and rightly so. Flann had no business even thinking about a relationship—hell, she wasn’t thinking about a relationship, more like a sizzling, incendiary night or two—with a woman like Abby. A woman who had a life and responsibility far greater than Flann ever wanted to have.

Flann looked away and caught Carrie’s gaze. Carrie smiled. Flann relaxed a little. Safer, much safer. They were already friends with no dangerous undercurrents, nothing to pull her down and drag her into places she didn’t want to go. No gut-deep tug of craving she was better off without. She smiled back.

CHAPTER TEN

“Why don’t you two take the chicks into the barn,” Harper said. “We’ll get them set up with a heat lamp and a pen after we eat.”

“We’ll put them in that back stall,” Margie said. “That way the kittens can see them, and they’ll get used to each other.”

“Good idea,” Flann said.

Blake picked up the box of chicks and said to Margie, “Maybe we should put them up high on something for now, so the mother cat doesn’t bother them.”

“Good idea,” Margie said. “Come on, I’ll show you a spot.”

The two of them ambled off toward the barn. From the bits of conversation Flann had heard on the ride back from Tractor Supply, Margie and Blake seemed to have bonded around the animals, books, and movies. Margie was the perfect person to introduce Blake into the local teen circles—she was popular, smart, and sure of herself. Any new kid needed a sponsor, and Blake almost certainly more than most.

“They’re getting along well,” Abby said from beside Flann.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Margie is special.”

“Yeah. She’s the baby and we might have spoiled her a bit, but it doesn’t show. She’s smarter than the rest of us already, and she’s got a big heart.”

“Blake is lucky to have made a friend like her so soon. I was worried he might not. He’s not usually shy and never had any trouble making friends before

” Abby hesitated.

Flann glanced behind them. The others had disappeared into the kitchen. “Coming out can be hard enough. Coming out as trans must be tougher on a lot of levels.”

Abby sighed. “Being different in any way is a hurdle for a teenager—this, well, I feel like I’m in uncharted waters most of the time. Did Margie say something about it?”

Flann shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind. Harper told me in private that Presley mentioned it.

We figured the kids would work that out for themselves.”

“I’m trying to let Blake decide who he tells, and how much, and when—but sometimes it’s so damn hard. I want to jump in and fix things for him.”

“Sure you do,” Flann said. “He’s your son. I’d feel the same if it was Margie or a kid of mine.

Looks to me like you’re doing just fine.”

“Thanks. I’m so close to the situation, I can’t really tell sometimes.”

Flann grinned. “Anytime you need a curbside consult, just ask.”

“I’ll remember that.” Abby rested her hand on Flann’s forearm. “I guess I could use a few understanding friends too.”

Where Abby’s soft fingers rested, Flann tingled. Heat bloomed in her belly. A rush of want surged through her. Any other place, any other time, any other woman, she would have reached for her, pulled her close, whispered an invitation. Flann stilled, at a loss.

“Sorry,” Abby murmured, pulling away.

“No.” Flann grabbed her hand. “I mean, you do. I

all of us

you’re not alone.” “I’m glad,” Abby whispered.

Presley appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Time to bring the food out. All hands on deck.”

Abby dropped her hand and Flann stopped herself from reaching for it. A rumble of thunder rolled over the ridge on the far side of the back field, and she checked overhead. Mountains of blue-black clouds filled the western sky.

Flann frowned. “Be right there.”

The air suddenly turned hot and heavy. Pent-up electricity raised the hairs on the backs of her arms.

The leaves on the trees shading the yard turned underside-up with the shift in barometric pressure, sure signs of a storm bearing down.

“Hey, Harp,” Flann called.

Harper walked out onto the porch. “What’s up?”

“We might have to change our minds about eating outside,” Flann said.

Harper craned her neck. “You’re right. It’s a big one.”

“Yeah, and it’s coming fast.” Unease roiled in Flann’s chest. The wind had picked up another notch in just the last few seconds. Summer storms were nothing new, and thunderstorms often tore through the valley in a matter of minutes, seemingly having risen out of nowhere and disappearing almost as fast, leaving behind brilliant sunshine and clear, clean skies. This one was barreling down even faster than most.

Abby stepped up beside her. “I can’t believe how it’s gotten so quickly.” She glanced toward the barn. “The kids are going to get wet.”

“They should be back before it hits.”