Free A Dream to Follow by Lauraine Snelling Page A

chignon, she fulfilled the picture of classical beauty, but for the detested dimple in her chin. “Though I believe you play better than the pianist they had.”
    Elizabeth tightened against the words she knew were coming. In the secret place of her heart she wished she could be the daughter her mother dreamed of.
    “If only you would give your piano playing the concentration you apply to your lessons. Why, with a . . .” Annabelle dropped her extended hands back to her sides and sighed.
    Since they’d discussed this topic to death more times than she cared to count in the last couple of years, Elizabeth just nodded. Much as she loved the piano and music, she loved medicine and helping people get well far more.
    Annabelle sighed again. “Would either of you like a cup of tea?”
    Elizabeth made herself look up and smile. “Yes, please.” When her mother left the room, she and her father exchanged a glance. Tea was not necessary, but quiet was. Fighting the guilt that stalked in on stiff cat legs, Elizabeth struggled to get back to her studies. Her mother could say more with a sigh than a ranting politician could say in an hour.

    Three days later Elizabeth staggered home from her last exam and collapsed to sleep around the clock. She woke to someone tapping on her door; in her dream the tapping had been the sound of her pencil against the desk as she failed her biology test.
    “Yes?” Blinking her eyes open, she pushed back the covers and stared out the window. Dusk? But she was in her nightdress. The last she remembered was promising herself a nap.
    “I was getting worried about you.” Her mother crossed the room to sit on the end of the four-poster bed. “You’re not sick, are you?”
    “No.” Elizabeth stretched her arms above her head, then pushed herself up enough to sit against the pillows she punched behind her back. “I feel like my head is full of wool, but other than that . . . did you come put me to bed, or did I dream it?”
    Her mother nodded. “I couldn’t let you sleep in your clothes.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I haven’t put you to bed for many years. Brought back good memories, it did.” Annabelle clasped her hands around one knee and leaned against the bedpost. “You talked with me, but I knew you had no idea what you said. You were sound asleep again before I even turned out the lamp.”
    Elizabeth rubbed her grumbling midsection. “Will supper be ready soon?”
    “As soon as you get dressed and come down. Since it will be just the three of us, if you’d rather stay in your wrapper, you may do so.”
    Elizabeth knew what a concession her mother was making by the offer. She leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks, but no thanks. Give me a few minutes to wash and dress, and I’ll be down.
    Perhaps we could go for a walk later.”
    “I’d like that.” Annabelle stopped at the door. “Down along the river would be nice.”
    Elizabeth nodded. “Then tonight I am going to take a long, long bath with bubbles and candlelight and a novel. How long it has been since I read something for pleasure.”
    “I just finished the latest Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court . You can read it next, as long as you don’t drop it in the water.”
    The two of them chuckled at the memory of the night Elizabeth had fallen asleep reading in the bathtub and was awakened by the splash her book made.
    Elizabeth stretched again and, pushing her arms into the sleeves of her wrapper, wandered down the hall to the bathroom. By the time she’d washed and dressed, she felt ravenous enough to eat a . . . well, whatever Cook had chosen for the meal.

    “So what are your plans for the summer?” They’d finished supper, and now Elizabeth and her mother were strolling along the river path. While mud showed the line where the river had nearly run over its banks, green horsetail weeds and grass were already poking through the gray. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at the dirty mud