2. Prescription For Love

“Hey, Becky,” Flann said with a start. “How’s Baker doing?”

“He’s good. Vitals are stable. The last blood gas was normal,” Becky said. “How are you?”

“Great. You?”

“Oh, sure, great.” Becky paused. “You know, no law says we couldn’t get together for a drink sometime. Talk about old times.”

Flann laughed. “Talk about them?”

Becky’s laughter pealed, and Flann flashed on Becky straddling her, her blond hair flying about her shoulders, her breasts rose-tipped and bouncing gently as she rocked on Flann’s hand. A nice image that did nothing for her.

“Well, you know

I miss

some things,” Becky said.

“Be surprised how much fun you could have giving lessons. You should try it,” Flann said lightly.

“Call me if there’s any problems with my patient.” “Of course,” Becky said, a distinct chill in her voice.

Smiling wryly, Flann hung up the phone. She didn’t have any strict rules against dating married women in general, but she preferred they not be actually living with their husbands when she did. Besides, Becky was way too close to home. She didn’t care to advertise her bedroom activities to the world. And all that aside, the idea of climbing into bed with her just didn’t appeal. She might think differently after a good night’s sleep, but she doubted it.

Halfway back to her apartment on the outskirts of town, Flann changed her mind and reversed course. No way could she sleep yet, and sitting around in her apartment was the last thing she wanted to do. Ten minutes later she turned down the drive to the homestead, but instead of pulling under the porte cochere where she usually parked, she followed a winding dirt road past acres of cornfield down to the main barn. The big doors were open and the clank of cows at the milking station rang like bells as she stepped from the Jeep. The Rivers family had leased their land for crops and dairy cows for as long as she could remember to a farming family who owned the adjoining land a mile or so downriver. Melanie Cochran, the oldest daughter, was supervising the morning’s milking. She waved to Flann. “Come to help out?”

Flann laughed. “Those electronic robot milkers are way too high-tech for me. The cows are safer with you.”

“Chicken.”

“How’s the summer going?”

“Great,” Melanie said with obvious pride. Her older brother had opted for a teaching job in the city, and Melanie appeared to be the heir apparent to follow in her father’s footsteps. “We got a good round of heifers this spring, rain’s been good, temperature’s been high.” She grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a good season if you don’t mind a tornado now and then.”

“Everything okay over at your place?”

“We lost half a field of soybeans, but we’ve got time to replant. All our stock are fine. We were lucky.”

“You know it. The whole village was pretty lucky.”

“I hear Harper’s new place got torn up a little bit.”

“The barn took a hit, but it’s repairable.”

Melanie adjusted one of the suction tubes on a cow’s udder and dusted off her hand. “I heard there’s going to be a barn raising. You gonna be there?”

“I didn’t get an invitation,” Flann said with a grin, “but I haven’t talked to Harper since yesterday.

When?”

“This weekend.”

“Barring emergencies, I’ll be there.”

Melanie cocked a hip and sent Flann a slow grin. She was a good ten years younger than Flann, but more than a few above legal age. She was strong, sunburned, and pretty in a wholesome way. “Well then, I’ll see you. There’ll be dancing, I hear.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Flann walked toward the tack room, shaking her head. Must be the day for invitations. Nothing to complain about, but the usual thrill of the hunt eluded her. She pulled down one of the bikes that looked about Blake’s size from hooks along one wall. The tires were in good shape and she dug out a foot pump and filled them to make sure they held up before she gave it to him. She wheeled it back out of the barn and wrestled it into the back of her Jeep. As she made the turn into the drive, her mother came out onto the back porch, set her hands on her hips, and fixed Flann with a stare she could feel through the windshield. She pulled over, cut the engine, and climbed out. “Morning, Mama.”

“You were thinking to leave without stopping by, I take it?”

“Ah—”

“Come on in the kitchen. I imagine you haven’t had breakfast.”

“I could do with some food.”

Ida laughed. “When can’t you?”

Flann stepped into the kitchen and was immediately enfolded in the scent of warm bread, fresh ham, and sweet strawberries. The smell of home stirred an ache in her depths, and she settled at the table with a sigh.

Her mother set a cup of coffee in front of her. “Long night?”

Flann rubbed her face with both hands. “Long couple of nights. How are things with Dad?”

“He finally got a break last night and didn’t get a call out until after breakfast this morning. He’s fine.”

Flann nodded and swallowed some coffee. “Good.”

“What were you looking for down at the barn?”

“Oh, I was getting one of my old bikes out for Blake.”

“That’s nice of you.”