very moment, a low, rumbling laughter rose above the countertop. “Yes, Mrs. Williams,” he was saying, apparently into the phone, “not to worry one bit. Have that waiting for you by the time you get here.”
Likely story, Carly thought, working her way up to the window. It was finally her turn. The old man ahead of her had just retrieved a labeled bag from a wide hand reaching through the glass, and was bidding good-bye to the jovial pharmacist, who urged him to say hello to... of all things... his dog, Nelly.
Carly had endured just about enough of this and was ready to voice her complaint when she spied a small grocery sack through the murky pane. The pharmacist, his back to her, withdrew something from its rustling hollow that looked suspiciously like Walt and Winston’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream, and stowed it in a small refrigerator.
Carly’s heart rose in her throat as the pharmacist turned to greet her, and chestnut brown eyes fell on her own. An easy smile poured across his mustached lip. “Can I help you?” he asked with a casual grace, seeming to ignore her dumbstruck look.
“Maybe you could tell me where you get your Walt and Winston’s?” she asked, feeling like a foolish girl at a Sadie Hawkins Dance. “I mean,” she continued awkwardly, “someplace nearby, where you and your wife pick it up?”
“No wife,” he replied, his lips turned up slightly at the corners, his complexion taking on a ruddy hue. “Just me and a bunch of sick folks here.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Carly said, setting her prescription on the counter.
There was a tug at her sleeve. She looked down and, for the first time in five minutes, recalled she had a daughter.
“Aren’t we ready to go yet?” Becky asked, looking fragile and exhausted.
“Not just yet, sweetie,” Carly answered, squeezing her daughter’s hand.
“I’ll have this right up for you,” the pharmacist said kindly. He grinned at Carly in a way that sent all sorts of wild butterflies fluttering. “And, it’s at Kent's Store.”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, lost in the heat of his stare.
“The place where I pick up the ice cream. It’s over in Whitehall, near the vineyards. Do you know it?”
Carly numbly shook her head.
He laughed good-naturedly. “You must be new in town.”
“Not brand new, but we’re still getting used to things. I mean, just me and the kids. It’s just the three of us.”
“That so?” he asked, coloring from the neck up. “Well then, it sounds like you need someone to show you around. Or, at least, point you in the right direction--as far as Walt and Winston’s is concerned.”
Carly smiled as he turned to fill her prescription, with a bright, melodious whistle. Maybe this move to the country wasn’t only going to be good for the children. Perhaps there was to be something special in it for her, too. In fact, she thought, feeling her face flush, this fresh start might be just what the doctor ordered... for all of them.
The End
A Note from the Author
Thanks for reading The Right Medicine. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other people find this book.
1. This book is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so that she (or he) can discover me, too.
2. Help other people find this book: write a review.
3. Sign up for my newsletter so that that you can learn about the next book as soon as it’s available. Write to [email protected] with “newsletter” in the subject heading.
4. Come like my Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/GinnyBairdRomance .
5. Comment on my blog at: The Story Behind the Story .
6. Visit my website: http://www.ginnybairdromance.com for details on other books available at multiple outlets now.
ALSO BY GINNY BAIRD
The Sometime Bride
Real Romance
Santa Fe Fortune
How to Marry a Matador
The Christmas Catch
The Holiday Bride
Interested in hearing
Likely story, Carly thought, working her way up to the window. It was finally her turn. The old man ahead of her had just retrieved a labeled bag from a wide hand reaching through the glass, and was bidding good-bye to the jovial pharmacist, who urged him to say hello to... of all things... his dog, Nelly.
Carly had endured just about enough of this and was ready to voice her complaint when she spied a small grocery sack through the murky pane. The pharmacist, his back to her, withdrew something from its rustling hollow that looked suspiciously like Walt and Winston’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream, and stowed it in a small refrigerator.
Carly’s heart rose in her throat as the pharmacist turned to greet her, and chestnut brown eyes fell on her own. An easy smile poured across his mustached lip. “Can I help you?” he asked with a casual grace, seeming to ignore her dumbstruck look.
“Maybe you could tell me where you get your Walt and Winston’s?” she asked, feeling like a foolish girl at a Sadie Hawkins Dance. “I mean,” she continued awkwardly, “someplace nearby, where you and your wife pick it up?”
“No wife,” he replied, his lips turned up slightly at the corners, his complexion taking on a ruddy hue. “Just me and a bunch of sick folks here.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Carly said, setting her prescription on the counter.
There was a tug at her sleeve. She looked down and, for the first time in five minutes, recalled she had a daughter.
“Aren’t we ready to go yet?” Becky asked, looking fragile and exhausted.
“Not just yet, sweetie,” Carly answered, squeezing her daughter’s hand.
“I’ll have this right up for you,” the pharmacist said kindly. He grinned at Carly in a way that sent all sorts of wild butterflies fluttering. “And, it’s at Kent's Store.”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, lost in the heat of his stare.
“The place where I pick up the ice cream. It’s over in Whitehall, near the vineyards. Do you know it?”
Carly numbly shook her head.
He laughed good-naturedly. “You must be new in town.”
“Not brand new, but we’re still getting used to things. I mean, just me and the kids. It’s just the three of us.”
“That so?” he asked, coloring from the neck up. “Well then, it sounds like you need someone to show you around. Or, at least, point you in the right direction--as far as Walt and Winston’s is concerned.”
Carly smiled as he turned to fill her prescription, with a bright, melodious whistle. Maybe this move to the country wasn’t only going to be good for the children. Perhaps there was to be something special in it for her, too. In fact, she thought, feeling her face flush, this fresh start might be just what the doctor ordered... for all of them.
The End
A Note from the Author
Thanks for reading The Right Medicine. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other people find this book.
1. This book is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so that she (or he) can discover me, too.
2. Help other people find this book: write a review.
3. Sign up for my newsletter so that that you can learn about the next book as soon as it’s available. Write to [email protected] with “newsletter” in the subject heading.
4. Come like my Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/GinnyBairdRomance .
5. Comment on my blog at: The Story Behind the Story .
6. Visit my website: http://www.ginnybairdromance.com for details on other books available at multiple outlets now.
ALSO BY GINNY BAIRD
The Sometime Bride
Real Romance
Santa Fe Fortune
How to Marry a Matador
The Christmas Catch
The Holiday Bride
Interested in hearing
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