2. Prescription For Love

The picture had never occurred to her before, although why not, she couldn’t imagine. Harper was practically a carbon copy of their dad. A family physician who made house calls and always would. Rooted in the community, born to head a family. Of course Harp would want her own family as soon as she could, now she’d found the woman she would make a life with.

“That’s a splendid idea,” Edward said. “How long do they expect the process will take?”

“Cool,” Margie added. “Can you get two at once?”

“Yes, possibly,” Harper said, laughing. “As to how long, I don’t know. The agency says the average time is a year to two, but we could get lucky.” Harper lifted a shoulder. “We’re flexible about things like age or ethnicity, as long as we have a healthy child. The rest will be up to us, then, right?”

“All a child needs,” Ida said, “is love. You let us know if there’s anything we can do, and when the time comes, with the two of you working, I expect to be lending a hand in that child’s care.” “Thank you, Mama,” Harper said softly.

When dinner was finished, Flann helped Harper and Margie clear the table while her mother and father retired to the back porch with a glass of wine.

As soon as the last dish was dried, Margie said, “I’m going into the village for a while. See you.” “See you,” Flann said.

“Be careful on your bike,” Harper called as the back door slammed.

Alone in the kitchen, Flann searched for a neutral topic of conversation, something she’d never had to do with her sister before. The silence drew on until it felt awkward. “So what do you think?” Harper said finally.

“What do you mean?”

“About the kids thing.”

“I think the two of you will be great parents.” Flann meant every word from the bottom of her heart.

“Big change, though, huh?”

Flann grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, flicked off the top on an old bottle opener screwed to the undersurface of the wooden counter, and handed it to Harper. She opened one for herself. “It’s about time. You probably should’ve been married five years ago. You were made for it.”

Harper laughed. “It feels now like that’s the truth, but I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I met Presley.”

“Then I guess that’s a sign you found the right woman.”

“So about the wedding,” Harper said. “We’re going to have it here, of course, and we both want pretty traditional.”

Flannery laughed. “No surprise there either.”

“So you’re going to stand up with me, right?”

Flann’s chest tightened. “Harp, I’ll always stand with you. No matter what.” “Thanks.”

“That’s a dumb-ass thing to say. You don’t thank me for being your sister.”

“How about for being my friend?”

“Not that either.” Flann scrubbed her face. She hadn’t been doing a very good job of letting Harper know she was happy for her. Too busy feeling sorry for herself. “Is falling in love and getting married turning your brain to mush?” “Only sometimes.”

“I think Presley is great, and the two of you are going to be super together.” Flann grinned. “As for the kids thing? Bring ’em on. We need new blood for the softball league, and we can get started training them up.”

Laughing, looking younger by a decade, Harper took a long pull on her beer. “So, how do you really feel about Abby?”

Flann tensed. Had Harper read something in her face earlier? Because Abby Remy kept intruding on her thoughts. A lot more than a new professional colleague, even one who’d effortlessly moved in on her territory, should have. She kept remembering the quick sure movements of her hands as she examined the patient, the steady certain tone in her voice, the focus in her eyes. She was a strong woman, attractive just for that. And then there was the elegant curve of her cheekbones and the sensuous lift of her lips, on the rare occasions when she smiled, and the dynamite shape in a tight, curvy-in-all-the right-places body. Thinking about Abby’s body was a really bad idea, since heading down that path would only lead to disaster. She only had to spend five minutes with Abby to know she wasn’t the kind of woman to cut loose for a night and then walk away with a smile and a wave. And those were the only kind of women Flann wanted to think about—fun-loving, field-playing women just like her. “Presley made a good call. Having someone competent in the ER so we don’t have to worry when we can’t get there right away will take a load off us all.”

“I’m glad you’re okay with it,” Harper said. “Presley really likes her. They were pretty tight in college and then—well, you know how it is when you get to med school. You have a tough time keeping any kind of relationship going with anyone most of the time, and they haven’t really seen each other for a while. But the connection is still there.”

“Yeah, I got that when I talked to Presley earlier. She told me a little about when she and Abby were in college—pretty impressive,” Flann said, “that Abby made it through college and med school and residency while raising a kid.”