Bluebonnet Belle. Lori Copeland

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Bluebonnet Belle - Lori Copeland Mills & Boon Silhouette

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monthlies. She’s got the gout!”

      “And female problems, I bet. She has to. She’s old as dirt. At least offer her some, and see if she agrees to take it.”

      Dragging a chair to the shelf, Beulah climbed up on it, balancing her bulk as she reached for a gallon jug well hidden behind a row of bottles. “If Papa ever gets wind of this he’ll take a belt to me.”

      “Just tell him the truth. In addition to filling Mrs. Faith’s prescription, you suggested a mild tonic that one of your customers makes and uses herself.” April helped lower the gallon jug. “That isn’t a lie.”

      “Well…we do sell and ship a lot of nettle tea to Mrs. Pinkham.”

      Reaching for a funnel, Beulah poured some of the compound into a small brown medicine bottle. “See what you’re making me do?”

      “You’ll be glad you did it when you see how perky Mrs. Faith becomes.”

      When the bottle was full, Beulah stuck a cork in it and hurriedly shoved the jug of compound back on the shelf.

      The two young women emerged from the back room, smiling. “I’ll fill your prescription now, Mrs. Faith.”

      April browsed the small pharmacy, keeping an eye on her friend as she attended her duties.

      “Here you are, Mrs. Faith,” Beulah said a few moments later, as she came down the steps carrying the medicine.

      “Humph. High time,” Mrs. Faith grumbled. She dug in her purse for a coin. “How much, Porky?”

      “Twenty-five cents.”

      “Twenty-five cents! Where’s your gun? Does that young whippersnapper doctor think I’m made out of money?”

      “Papa’s working hard to get the prices down.”

      “Does he believe money grows on trees?”

      “I don’t think so.”

      Handing her the coins, Mrs. Faith turned to leave.

      Shooting a warning look, April motioned to the bottle of compound Beulah was still holding. Her friend’s face screwed into a stubborn mask.

      April held her gaze, daring her to back down.

      “Oh, Mrs. Faith?”

      The old woman paused in the doorway. “What is it?”

      Clearing her throat, Beulah grinned. “Would you like to try some tonic?”

      She frowned. “Some what?”

      “Some tonic. It will give you get up and go.”

      The old woman glared indignantly. “Are you saying I don’t have get up and go?”

      “No, of course not. You’re in fine shape…for your age…”

      Mrs. Faith’s frown turned menacing.

      April quickly stepped in. “Oh, you mean that wonderful tonic everyone is talking about? Do you have some?”

      Beulah nodded halfheartedly. April could see she wasn’t in the spirit of the sale.

      “Well, I’d love to try some. Wouldn’t you, Mrs. Faith?”

      “Don’t need it.” She started out the door again.

      “Wait!” April hurried over to take the bottle out of Beulah’s grasp. Handing it to Mrs. Faith, she smiled. “Just take a couple of spoonfuls a day for the next week and see if you can tell any difference in how you feel.”

      “I feel fine.”

      “I know, but you’ll feel even better.” April confidently tucked the bottle into the small basket the woman habitually carried on her left arm.

      Mrs. Faith studied the bottle. “Don’t think I’m going to pay for it.”

      “Certainly not—you wouldn’t think of charging her for it, would you, Beulah?”

      Shaking her head, Beulah busied herself dusting the foot powders.

      “Well, guess it can’t hurt.” The old woman eyed the two girls sternly. “Porky Ludwig, does your papa know you lollygag around, whispering and giggling, when he’s not here?”

      “Yes, ma’am, he does, and he’s warned me about it,” Beulah assured her. April held the front door open as the woman hobbled out.

      When the door closed, Beulah flew into her. “I hope you know what you’re doing, April Truitt!”

      April laughed. “She’ll be swinging from the rafters this time next week.”

      Returning to her dusting, Beulah fretted. “Dr. Fuller will tell Papa if he finds out I gave her Lydia Pinkham’s compound.

      “He won’t know it’s Lydia’s compound.”

      “Dr. Fuller caters to Mrs. Faith, you know. Tells her she’s beautiful. She laps it up—but then, most of the unmarried women in town and half the married women suddenly have a ‘problem’ now. Have you noticed?”

      “That he’s single?”

      “That he’s handsome, silly.”

      “I’ve noticed.” April brushed an imaginary speck of dust off the counter.

      “Now, there’s a man I’d like to kidnap.”

      “Well, he is nice-looking, but he isn’t my type.”

      “Meaning he doesn’t agree with your opinion of Mrs. Pinkham’s compound?”

      “You should have seen him at the rally the other day. I don’t know why he was there. Standing there in the midst of all those women, arms crossed, looking as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Spoke right up about how females should trust doctors. Nearly started a riot. He saw me, and if looks could kill, I’d be lying in Grandpa’s front parlor right now.”

      “Golly.” Beulah’s eyes widened. “Does he know who you are?”

      “No. He visits on the porch with Grandpa occasionally, but it’s dark and I keep well-hidden. He hasn’t seen me, I’m almost certain, or he would have told Grandpa about the compound. He’s a snitch.”

      “How do you know?”

      April shrugged. “He’s too good-looking to be honorable.”

      “Well, if the compound’s everything Mrs. Pinkham claims it is, the good doctor would be out of business in a week.”

      April snorted. “I don’t think he’s threatened either by the compound or by me.”

      Beulah paused, her dust cloth suspended in midair. “You didn’t

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