Loving Linsey by Rachelle Morgan Page A

bellow stopped him in his tracks.
    â€œJunior!”
    Daniel’s eyes slammed shut. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Bad enough everyone in the county had dubbed him Doc Jr.; hearing his dad call him Junior felt as pleasant as a splinter under his fingernail. It was just one more reminder to Daniel that he’d never meet up to the old man’s expectations. He schooled his features and turned toward the curtain that divided the examination rooms from the main shop.
    The old man appeared a second later, pewter gray hair sticking up from his shiny pate, his sagging cheeks freckled with age spots. “Did you get that buggy—what the Sam Hill happened to you?”
    Daniel glanced down at the clothes sticking to his chest and thighs. He thought about putting the blame for his appearance at Linsey’s feet where it belonged, yet a strange compulsion made him say, “Hell, Dad, it was so nice outside I decided to go for a swim.”
    Daniel Sr. narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to assume that you’ve got time to stand there giving me lip because those crates sprouted legs and loaded themselves into the buggy.”
    Outwardly Daniel held firm under his dad’s disapproving scrutiny, yet inside he found himself battling that old feeling of failure. “I’ll finished getting them packed as soon as I’ve changed into some dry clothes.”
    â€œYou best put some fire under those feet, then. I’m pulling out at ten o’clock and not oneminute later.” Daniel Sr. poked his index finger into the air. “Efficiency! That’s a physician’s creed! If you ever want to make something of yourself, Junior, you’d do well to remember that.”
    As if he could ever forget. The words had been drummed into his head since he was old enough to slobber on his father’s stethoscope.
    â€œI’ve got half a dozen kids waiting on those vaccines and I don’t have time for—”
    The monotonous tirade broke off as suddenly as it started. Both Daniel and his father became aware of a third presence at the same time, and both turned their head toward the apothecary entrance.
    The first genuine smile Daniel had felt all day inched across his face at the sight of the stoop-shouldered woman watching them with amusement.
    â€œIf it isn’t my favorite doctors sharing a tender moment of affection,” Louisa Gordon greeted them with a twinkle in her rheumy blue eyes. “Good morning, Daniel.”
    God, how he loved the way she could make an insult sound like a compliment. “Miss Louisa.” His mood improving considerably, Daniel met her halfway across the room, picked up a veined hand, and kissed her knuckles. No matter what he thought of Linsey, her aunt had secured a fond spot in Daniel’s heart. Not only was Louisa Gordon the only one in Horseshoe who didn’t call him by that annoying nickname, but she’d been nothing but kind to him his whole life. And at no time had he appreciated her unfailingwarmth more than at the death of his mother six years earlier.
    â€œTook a little bath, did we?”
    â€œSomething like that. How are you faring, ma’am?”
    Louisa frowned, making the wrinkles in her forehead multiply like pleats in a linen sheet. “Better than Granny Yearling, I fear. I found her lying abed this morning.”
    â€œShe feeling poorly?”
    â€œShe says her bowels are giving her a bit of grief. I was hoping either you or your father would have time to pay her a visit.”
    Daniel nodded. “If you’ll give me a minute to change my clothes—”
    â€œI’ll fetch my bag,” his dad said at the same time.
    Daniel sent a startled glance toward his father. “I thought you were heading out to Jenny Kimmel’s place.”
    â€œNo reason why you can’t give those kids their vaccinations.” Daniel Sr. reached beneath the counter for a black leather bag as old as he was and