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“No.”Not since I faked a stomach bug and the doc-in-a-box prescribed a generic anti-emetic just so I could see you.
“Can I help you with anything else today?” Her toothy smile devastates me.
“Yes,” I blurt before I lose the shred of nerve.
She waits patiently for me to continue, with her smile bright like the sun. I could stand here and bask in her light all afternoon. Behind me, Ben the brewery guy clears his throat. I overheard him on the phone earlier, something about a kid at home with a double ear infection. Behind him, Owen Majors from the feed store is looking downright stressed. I seem to recall he just found out he’s raising a kid all on his own. Sad situation, that is. The poor guy is frazzled every time I go in to pick up supplies for the ranch. Right, let’s get this over with.
“It just so happens the, uh, sheriff is sponsoring a table at this year’s Christmas ball, and we’re having trouble filling the last two seats.”
A little bit of the light goes out of Ursula’s eyes. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, but I’m not much help. I’m not married, and I don’t have anyone to go as my date.”
That was a confusing choice of words on my part. “Let me try that again.” A long, exasperated grumble from Ben flusters me. His text notifications are blowing up. I dab my lip with the back of my hand and swallow. “Ursula, would you like to go with me as my date to the Christmas ball tomorrow?”
Her eyebrows rise to full height. Those pink glossy lips part in astonishment.
And I wait.
“Um,” she says, glancing down at the paper bag I hold in my sweat-soaked fist. Finally, she leans forward and whispers with a pained wince, “Should you be going on dates? Under the circumstances?”
Shit.
I knew I should have faked a less unsettling ailment than a skin rash.
ChapterTwo
Ursula
Noah Taylor does not have a skin rash in his groin area.
At least, that’s the most common use for this type of fungicide ointment, but I’ll bet he doesn’t know that.
If he did have a rash, he would’ve had a hitch in his giddy-up when he walked into my store. Instead, he carried himself in here with his usual swagger, lining up just as cool as a cucumber.
I also am fairly certain he did not have an upper GI virus when he came to me for anti-nausea meds last month. His color was too good. All that perfect, smooth skin showed nary a single bag under his sparkling eyes. Ugh. It’s totally unfair how he’s in his early 40s and never looks tired. Must be all that free coffee from Ruby, I snarkily think to myself.
So no, this man is not suffering from an itch in his undercarriage. Whatever is wrong with him is between him and the sporadically available urgent care doc who should have retired eons ago.
“Oh, that,” he says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s for my dog.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He lifts up his hat and scrubs a hand through his silky hair. The kind of hair that even with hat head makes a woman’s hands itch to find out how soft it is. Funny that Sheriff Mooney lets his male deputies get away with anything longer than a buzz cut, but our sheriff is one of a kind.
“Actually, I don’t have a dog.”
“Oh,” I say, nodding and trying not to smirk.
“I just didn’t want you to think…that is to say…”
Behind him, Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. I reach down to the basket under the counter and grab the bag that contains the amoxicillin for little Gabby. “Here you go, Ben.”
“Are you sure?” Ben pulls out his wallet. “My copay…”
“Is not going to ruin the books. We’ll settle up later. Go home to the wife and kids and tell Gabby I hope she feels better soon. And grab some Pedialyte pops on the way out. That’ll help, too.”
From everything I know about the retired Curries who own this pharmacy, that’s how they’ve always done business. They know who’s good for it. These days, they’re hands off, giving me free rein to run the medical side of things as I see fit. Which is perfect for me. I like working alone and taking care of the folks here.
Lately though, as my 30th birthday has come and gone and my five-year anniversary in Fate approaches, I’ve been feeling the need for a change. More of a challenge. The Curries have hinted around that they might sell the pharmacy to a big chain, but that would just be sad. Sure, the soda shop and lunch counter are defunct, but I’d hate to see someone like CVS demolish all of that history.
