2. Prescription For Love

“Wait a minute,” Flann grumbled. “I should drive. I know the roads—”

“So does Presley.” Abby plucked Presley’s keys from the table, slipped them into her pocket, and gave Flann a no-discussion glare. “If you expect to work later tonight, you need to rest now.”

Flann scowled. “I can see how you got to be chief so fast.”

Abby grinned. “By being right, you mean?”

“I was thinking more like hard-as—” Flann glanced over at Blake and Margie, who didn’t seem to be paying them any attention. All the same, she muttered, “Not quite what I was thinking.”

Presley set the roast that was to have been their picnic dinner in the center of the big oak table. “Everybody should grab a sandwich. If the power is out at the Rivers, the cafeteria won’t have food for long. Grab water from the fridge too.”

“Double-check you have flashlights,” Harper said, slicing thick slabs off the roast as Presley set out bread and sandwich bags.

“Good idea.” Abby put together sandwiches. “Blake, Margie—come and eat.”

When they’d grabbed sandwiches, she made two more and handed one to Flann. “Eat this now. I’ll pack some more for later.”

Flann took the sandwich, her fingers grazing Abby’s. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Abby said, not entirely sure why she’d made Flann’s without even thinking about it. And that was not anything she wanted to keep thinking about right then.

Inside of ten minutes, they were ready to go. Presley walked Harper to the back door and kissed her. “Be careful. I wish you weren’t going alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Harper said. “I’ll meet you at the Rivers just as soon as I’ve checked the homestead. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me. Phone reception is likely to be iffy.” Presley nodded, her lips tight.

Harper hugged her, murmuring something too quietly for Abby to hear. Presley’s expression softened and she leaned into Harper for an instant, her arms locked around Harper’s waist. Abby looked away, directly into Flann’s eyes. Flann’s pensive gaze skimmed her face and settled on hers, capturing Abby again in the dark, seductive undertow Flann exuded with effortless force. Abby broke away reluctantly and physically turned aside, not trusting herself to resist the strange pull of Flann’s attention. “Blake, Margie—remember, no searching outside.” “We should check for Rooster,” Margie said. Blake nodded.

“Rooster is a survivor,” Presley said. “If he hasn’t made an appearance by morning, we’ll all look for him. Abby’s right, though, it’s not safe out there until we’re sure the storms have passed.” “You’re all going out,” Margie pointed out with her usual certainty.

“Yeah, Mom,” Blake added in solidarity.

Great, Abby thought. Now there’s a pair of them to bargain with.

“Besides,” Margie said, “if we keep an eye on the sky and promise to—”

“No deals,” Flann said, joining Abby. “You stay inside until one of us comes back. Let’s have your word on it.”

Blake and Margie glanced at each other in some kind of silent communication, then at Abby and Flann. Whatever they saw must have convinced them, and together, they said, “Word.”

“Good enough,” Flann said. “Margie, you’ve got all our numbers. We’ll call when we hit the

Rivers.”

“Thanks,” Abby whispered to Flann.

“No problem.” Flann grinned. “Never try to negotiate with my sister. She always wins.” “Runs in the family?”

“Usually.” Flann dropped her voice and leaned close. “You’ve been doing pretty well on that score with me, though.”

“I’m not counting.” Abby savored the heat of Flann’s bare arm against hers for an instant, an unexpected guilty pleasure, before snatching up the bag of sandwiches. “All right then, we’re ready.”

Harper drove out first with Presley close behind. They had to stop twice before the end of the long driveway so Presley and Abby could climb out and help Harper clear downed tree limbs from the road. Flann grumbled about not helping but stayed in the car.

When they reached the two-lane, Harper turned in the opposite direction and was gone. Abby shivered at the sudden sense of being very alone in an alien landscape. Despite it being only early evening, the sky was unnaturally dark, layered with angry black storm clouds. Their headlights were the only illumination as they traveled slowly toward the village. The farmhouses they passed had no power and stood as blackened silhouettes against the ominous horizon. Presley, both hands gripping the wheel, managed to circumvent all of the downed limbs in the road for the first few miles. When they rounded a bend, she let out a sigh. A distant glow heralded the village up ahead.

“At least some of the village has power,” Abby said.

Presley said, “Hopefully the hospital does too.”

“They’ve got the generators,” Flann said, “but they’ll only do for twentyfour hours or so.”

“I’ll get on the line with the power company as soon as we arrive and get an idea of what the local grid looks like,” Presley said.

Abby leaned forward and narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the shape in the road ahead. Her breath caught. “Pres, there’s a truck off the road.”