Just as Ida began placing breakfast on the table, Blake and Margie tumbled into the kitchen like a pair of playful puppies. Blake’s hair was damp and stood on end as if he’d toweled it dry and not bothered to comb it. He wasn’t usually so casual about his appearance, especially not recently. He wore a blue-denim button-down shirt and faded jeans, both at least a size too big for him, and a wide grin. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, hon—Blake. Hi, Margie.”

“Hi, Dr. Remy.” Margie had scooped her long blond hair into a green John Deere cap and pulled the damp strands through the back tab. She wore shorts and a scrub top with flip-flops. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Good morning, darlin’,” Edward said, pausing in his conversation with Harper.

Ida said, “Presley, I hope you don’t mind, I raided your laundry room and grabbed some clothes from the clean pile for these two. I recognized Harper’s and figured they’d do better for Blake.”

“No, of course I don’t mind.” Presley smiled at Harper and took her hand.

Blake dropped into a free chair and Margie took one beside him. Abby couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him so unselfconscious and confident. She caught her lip between her teeth and swallowed hard. She just had to make everything here work out.

Ida took her seat and everyone attacked the food. The breakfast was delicious, although Abby was almost too tired to eat it. Now that she was sitting, she realized how long it’d been since she’d had to work straight through the night with no relief. Everyone at the table was tired, but an undercurrent of exhilaration filled the room all the same. They’d faced down a crisis and everyone had spent the night doing what they did best. Despite the fatigue, the satisfaction won out.

Abby joined Ida at the sink when everyone had finished and started piling their plates on the counter by the sink. “Really, I’d like to help.”

“Ordinarily, Flannery and Harper would have dish duty,” Ida said, rinsing dishes and stacking them. “Under the circumstances, they’ll get a pass this morning. You too.”

“Oh, really, I’d like to—”

“I’m just going to fill the dishwasher and run it, and the rest of these can wait until later. Everyone should take a nap.”

“That should include you too, then,” Abby said. “You’ve been up all night.”

Ida smiled. “When you raise a house full of medical people, you get used to that. I’ll get my rest this afternoon when you all head back to the Rivers.”

“You’ve raised a wonderful bunch, every one of them,” Abby said.

“I’d be bragging if I agreed, but I can’t argue.” A glow of pride passed over Ida’s strong, bold features. “Your son seems to have handled the excitement of the evening very well himself.”

Abby smiled at Blake. He and Margie were discussing something while staring earnestly into the chicks’ box. “He seems to have fallen in love with all things farm related. I have no idea why. I would have sworn he would always be a city boy.”

“Some just take to it, like it’s in the blood. He might be one of those.”

“Margie’s a wonderful teacher.” Abby met Ida’s steady gaze. “She’s just the kind of friend I was hoping he’d find.”

“It looks like the two of them have taken to each other.”

Abby tensed. Blake hadn’t talked to her about how he identified sexually, but his affection for Margie was obvious. Maybe Ida wouldn’t find Blake ideal friend material if she thought their friendship might become more than that.

“It’s nice to see two kindred spirits connect,” Ida said.

A weight lifted from Abby’s heart. “It is.”

“Although I’ll wager the two of them are capable of raising a bit of Cain, if I know my daughter.”

Abby laughed. “The two of us ought to be able to handle them.”

“Most assuredly.” Ida glanced over to where Flannery and Harper were discussing patients who needed follow-up. “Exactly how serious is Flannery’s leg?”

Abby hesitated.

“She was limping when she came in, and she’s favoring it even when she’s sitting down,” Ida said.

“I guess the kids didn’t tell you they were in the barn when it came down during the storm.”

“They were too busy trying to explain why there was a rooster perched on top of one of the kitchen chairs when I came in this morning.”

Abby folded her arms, just the memory of the night before giving her a chill. “Flann went after them when we saw the tornado touch down. I think she probably saved them from serious injury. She sustained a fairly deep laceration on her leg. It should be fine. I sutured it this morning.”

“Did you now.”

“I am an ER physician. It wasn’t—”

“Oh, I have no doubt you’re more than qualified. Flannery, however, isn’t an easy patient. There were times when she was younger I practically had to tie her down so her father could to tend to some injury or other.”

Abby smiled, watching Flann run a hand through her hair, a habit that only left her tousled locks more ruffled and her looking even more attractive. She was dangerously good-looking, and Abby had to work at not staring whenever they were in the same space. “I found threats to be effective.”

Ida chuckled. “You seem to be fitting in very nicely.”

Abby met Ida’s gaze. “I hope so. I want things to work out with…here.”

“I can’t think of any reason why they shouldn’t.”

At that moment, Flannery caught Abby’s gaze, and the dark brooding stare slowly turned to a simmering perusal that bordered on indecent. Deliciously indecent. Abby’s heart sped up, and heat flooded her cheeks. She hoped Flannery’s mother didn’t notice it, but of course not very much escaped Ida Rivers’s notice.

“Now,” Ida said, “a few hours’ sleep will do you good. This place has a slew of bedrooms on the second floor. Presley and Harper have the room on the left at the top of the stairs and Carrie’s is on the right all the way at the back. Any of the other ones are fine.”

Abby needed to wrangle her emotions back in line more than she needed sleep. Escape was her best option. At least then she wouldn’t be anywhere near Flann in a weakened state, since she couldn’t seem to resist her outrageous appeal. “I should just drive Blake home and—”

“Nonsense. That will take extra time, and you’re already tired. You could get a call at any time.” Ida crooked a finger at Flannery. “Flannery, take Abby upstairs and find a bedroom for her. You too. Get some sleep.”

Flannery rose, her grin widening as Abby blushed furiously. “Sure thing, Mama.”

Abby surrendered. “Blake, I’ll be upstairs. If you need—”

“All’s good, Mom. See you.”

“Right.” Abby sighed and followed Flann into the hall and up the wide curving staircase. “Outnumbered and outvoted.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Flannery pushed open a big oak door in the center of the hall. “Sorry if my mother made you uncomfortable.”

“No, she didn’t,” Abby said. “To be perfectly honest, it’s nice to be so well taken care of, I’m just not used to it.”

“That’s too bad.” Flann motioned Abby inside. “You don’t need it, maybe, but you deserve to be tended to now and then.”

Abby laughed, embarrassed by the attention and a little breathless from the yearning Flann’s words stirred. Flann kept blindsiding her with these tender statements out of nowhere that struck a deep chord inside her. What had she revealed that let Flann see her secret needs so clearly, when no one else ever had? She turned to the room to hide her confusion. “This is a fabulous place. I could hide out here forever!”

The big, bright, high-ceilinged room faced a sweeping panorama of green pastures and distant mountains beneath a robin’s-egg-blue sky. Swaying branches of an oak tree framed the bay window with its wide, deep rose-patterned cushions, and the early morning sunlight fanned across wide plank floors in a golden tide. A big four-poster bed stood against one wall, the covers turned down, and a pile of white ruffled pillows beckoned. It looked so inviting she almost wept. “I didn’t realize how tired I was. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to go to sleep.”

Flann let the door ease closed behind her. Abby’s face glowed in the slivers of sunlight showering her form. She’d pulled out the tie holding back her hair and thick waves tumbled onto her shoulders. Flann’s fingers itched to dive into them. Her throat suddenly dry, she rasped, “A little sleep is better than none, especially if it gets busy later. A couple hours, and we’ll head back.”

Abby was suddenly aware they were alone and the bed suddenly looked less inviting and a lot more threatening. Flann stood absolutely still only inches away, but she seemed to fill the space with pent-up energy and heat. Abby pulsed inside, a warning and a plea. She couldn’t look at her, didn’t dare see her own desire reflected in Flann’s dark gaze, couldn’t bear the disappointment if she didn’t. “Yes, well, you should get some sleep too.”

Somewhere else, anywhere but here. Go. Go away before I beg you not to.

“I will, in a little while. I never really thanked you for looking after me earlier,” Flann said.

Abby took a breath, chanced a glance into her eyes. God, she had beautiful eyes. Bittersweet chocolate this morning, flecked with gold. They spoke, her eyes, of passion and pleasure. “You don’t need to thank me. You might have saved my son’s life, and you got hurt in the process. And even if that hadn’t been the case, I wanted to look after you.”

“Did you?” Flann brushed a strand of hair from Abby’s throat. Her fingers lingered.

“Yes.”

“You think I need looking after, do you?”

“Oh no, not you. I forgot, you don’t need anything except a little fun and companionship.” Abby meant to say it lightly, but it came out more seriously than she intended. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate and—”

“You’re right, most of the time. You’re not right now, though.” Flann clasped her upper arms gently and drew her forward. “Right now I need something else. Something very, very specific.”

“Flann,” Abby protested.

“You, Abby. Right now I want you so much I can’t think.” Flann slid her palms from Abby’s shoulders and down onto her forearms, tugging her until they were a whisper apart. “You looked really good sitting at the table this morning. Like you belonged there. You fit this place, Abby, this world.”

“Flann, I don’t—”

“Don’t think.” Flann leaned close. “Just take, Abby. Take.”

Impossibly, Abby couldn’t think. Somewhere a voice, her voice, cried Yes, for once, yes, take.

Flann kissed her, the first silky caress of her mouth barely more than a whisper, gently at first, building with each teasing pass to possessive and sure.

Abby stiffened, swamped by a hunger she’d never experienced. A little afraid, and terribly greedy for more. Flann held her firmly, unapologetically, as if Abby belonged to her. She’d never been held with so much authority, never been kissed with so much assuredness. Their bodies weren’t quite touching, but heat enveloped her. She tilted her head to get more of Flann’s mouth, slid her arms around her neck, breathed her in. Her nipples tensed and her thighs trembled. Another kiss stole through her, lightning fast, heat lightning, setting her ablaze. She pressed closer, heard herself moan softly.

Flann groaned and swept her hand down Abby’s back, tugging her scrub shirt up and spreading her fingers over Abby’s lower back. Her touch was a claim. Mine. Mine. Abby arched into her, pressing close, closer, her heart beating against Flann’s.

“God, you feel so good.” Abby laced her fingers through Flann’s hair, cupping the back of her neck, sealing the kiss as Flann’s lips parted and they delved deeper.

“Abby,” Flann groaned again, leaning back on the door and dragging Abby hard against her. A dizzying swell of desire rocketed through her. Flames raced across her skin, burning her with pleasure. Abby tasted so sweet, like hot honey on fresh biscuits, rich and full. Her kisses were wild, and so, so ready. Flann swept her palms down Abby’s sides and up again, thumbs stroking the undersurfaces of her breasts. “I want my hands all over you.”

“Your leg,” Abby gasped.

“It’s fine,” Flann growled, kissing her again. Abby’s breasts were firm against her own, the pressure a tease that shot to the pit of her stomach. Abby’s skin was soft and Flann let her hand drift beneath the top of her scrub pants until her fingers feathered the swell of her ass. Abby fit, every curve and sensuous plane of her. Their bodies were perfectly aligned. Every tilt of her head, every sweep of her tongue and Abby was there, answering. Passion for passion, need for need.