Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
CALYSTA
The line at the pharmacy’s front register was four people deep, normal for the end of the day.
St. Fleur residents were predictable, if anything.
Or perhaps it was that they wanted to beat the six-o’clock closing time.
After a quick look at my watch, I realized they had an hour left before Robin would lock the doors.
“Can I help you?” I called as a frantic-looking man took a step toward the line.
He lowered his hand from where he’d just shoved it into his dark-brown hair, the ends standing at attention.
“Sorry?” His familiar-looking eyes darted back toward where another person joined the growing line.
In his hands were a pack of tampons and another of pads.
Frustration crinkled the skin between his eyes.
“Here, I can check you out really quick,” I said, careful not to raise my voice and draw the attention of the others.
Relief seemed to wash away his worry in a single breath. “You’re a godsend.” He dropped both items onto the counter and reached for his wallet.
Chuckling, I waved the box of tampons. “No, I just recognize an emergency run when I see it.” I scanned the box and dropped it into a paper bag.
A low rumble of laughter slipped from between his lips. “Inconvenient timing is what it is.”
I paused at the rich sound before scanning the pads and adding them to the bag. “Twenty seventy-two, and I can promise inconvenient doesn’t tap the surface of whatever she’s feeling.”
His eyes widened as he muttered a curse and searched the products in his line of sight. “Tylenol!”
Rolling my lips in, I bit back another chuckle and pointed at the endcap on the other side of my counter. “Right over there.”
He darted over in five steps and looked left to right before snagging a box and hurrying back. “You really are a lifesaver!”
Adding the Tylenol to his total, I snuck a few glances his way. The tanned man was a few inches taller than me. My stomach did a little flip, and I realized I was attracted to him. Whoever these were for was a lucky woman.
“Seriously, though, I can’t believe I almost left without that.” He passed me two twenties, and I tallied his change. “My daughter would have killed me if she had to run in pain. Not that I’d blame her.”
My gaze dropped to his left hand and took in his ringless finger. “I’m glad I could help.” Smiling, I pressed the change into his open hand. A little zing of awareness flitted through my body, causing me to look up into his hazel eyes with surprise.
“Do y’all carry extra-long condoms?” a teenage boy asked, breaking whatever spell had come over me.
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes with annoyance just in time. At least once a week, one of the male teenagers in town asked me for something similar. My gaze moved to the handsome father, but he’d slipped away quickly.
“Condoms are at the end of aisle five,” I said and cast one last glance in the direction of the man slipping through the line up front.
Returning to my station at the back, I sat and stared blankly at the computer.
My mind conjured a fresh image of the good-looking father.
I’d seen him before but was at a loss for his name.
He’d been into the pharmacy over the years, but I’d have been married then.
No matter the state of my marriage, I had never betrayed Sergio.
It was a rare sight to see a man purchasing feminine products as if they were any other item.
My own father hadn’t listened when I’d been a teen trying to explain to Mami that I was bleeding more than the other girls.
Deep inside, I knew it didn’t make him uncaring.
The conversation was uncomfortable, so he dealt with it like he’d been taught, by walking away.
No one, least of all me, knew those periods would be the beginning of my infertility journey.
My gaze lowered to the bottom-right corner of the computer, and I sighed.
Thanks to my mind’s wanderings, I now had thirty minutes left to fulfil whatever prescriptions I could.
If I didn’t, it would only slow down my morning.
Nearly ten years of working at AB Pharmacy, or Abe’s as the locals had lovingly dubbed the mom-and-pop pharmacy, and I understood the mornings were filled with the seniors and parents of young kids, and the evenings with anyone grabbing things after work.
While I could work on autopilot after nearly twenty years as a pharmacist, I wouldn’t.
In my field, there was no room for error.
Those mistakes could be at the cost of another, something I never wanted to be responsible for.
It was one of the reasons I’d left a larger chain a decade ago for the smaller pharmacy.
Working closely with the residents of St. Fleur filled my cup, the same way having the men and women of Station Two over for a barbecue had when I’d been with Sergio.
The thought reminded me of when Marianne, friend and wife of one of Station Two’s firefighters, had invited me over for a particular cookout.
I’d politely declined every single invitation since Sergio’s death.
This one had been the easiest to back out of, as I was running in the 5k that morning.
Lord only knew the condition I’d been in at the end.
He’d died of bladder cancer, and everyone expected me to feel a certain way. And truth be told, I didn’t blame them. They didn’t know Sergio and I had been separated. We’d been living under the same roof as we figured out how to navigate our upcoming divorce when I’d found his prescription.
My stomach clenched, like it often did at the memory of finding his meds in the guest bathroom.
As a pharmacist, I was well-versed in most medication.
I’d taken the bottle to Sergio and confronted him.
He’d told me the truth, and I knew there was no way we would be divorcing until he was better.
Not because he would fight me but because even though I had stopped being in love with him, I would always love him as a friend.
And I refused to leave when he needed someone the most.