Free Waiting for Daybreak by Kathryn Cushman Page A

just too intriguing to ignore. “How about I look it up?” She walked to the back computer and typed in the web address for an online Bible. “Let’s see, 2 Timothy 4:20, got it right here, it says ‘Erastus stayed in Corinth, and I left Trophimus sick in Miletus.’ ” Paige looked at the woman and resisted the urge to giggle. “Uh, I guess your memory for references didn’t quite work this time.”
    “Course it did. It says, ‘I left Trophimus sick,’ doesn’t it?”
    “Yeah.”
    “It was Paul doing the talking, right?”
    “Yeah, I guess so.”
    “Course it was. It was from Paul’s letter to Timothy. Now, back to my point, lots of sick people were made well when Paul touched them and prayed for them, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, there you have it, clear as Vicks VapoRub.” She put her prescription bag in her purse, then looked up at Paige as if she were an idiot. “Sometimes healing doesn’t happen, even when the faith is there. Sometimes The Big Man just has other plans, and those plans don’t involve the person in question getting better. See?”
    Was that supposed to be encouraging? Time to get this lady out of here. “Well, thanks, Ora. I’ll walk you out so I can lock up behind you.”
    Ora set her empty mug on the counter. “Next time, use cold water.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “In your coffee maker. If you start with cold water, the coffee tastes better. Yours isn’t very good.”
    Paige bit her bottom lip. “Umm, thanks for the tip.”
    “No problem. You opening tomorrow morning?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Good, I’ll come by then. You can try again.” The woman turned and disappeared out the door.
    Paige looked at the ceiling. “God, what is going on? I’m claiming Your Word, I’m doing all I can, and You seem to be answering every request with the complete opposite. I asked for a friend, and You’ve sent me a crotchety old lady who criticizes my coffee and gives me bizarre Bible references that have nothing to do with anything. Do you even hear me anymore?”

chapter thirteen
    Monday morning marked Paige’s first full week at work. Things felt almost normal, though it still hurt to head home every night to her parents’ empty house. She was washing out her coffee pot when Clarissa arrived and began to scrub everything that didn’t move. As she wiped at the counter for at least the tenth time, Paige walked over and put her hand on Clarissa’s arm. “Is everything okay?”
    Clarissa continued to rub at an imaginary spot. “You ever heard of Parrish Apothecary?”
    “Yeah. Isn’t that a boutique pharmacy? Great service but higher prices, and doesn’t take insurance?”
    “Milton Parrish is coming in today. The Milton Parrish. He’s part owner of this store along with my grandfather, but he’s never actually been here before. He’s also sole owner of the Parrish Apothecary chain. He’s decided to sell franchise rights to a select few people, and I want to be one of them.”
    Paige nodded. “Got it. Something special you want me to do?”
    Clarissa straightened the Zithromax Z-Paks on the shelf. “Tidy up anything that needs it. When he’s here, provide your best service and try to look happy.”
    Paige saluted. “I’ll give it my best.”
    Clarissa did not acknowledge the attempt at humor. Instead, she looked toward the door and began to drum her fingers on the counter. “I hope Dawn shows up wearing something halfway nice today. I told her to dress her best, but looking back, I think I should have been more specific.”
    “Maybe she’ll surprise you.” In truth, Paige had never seen Dawn in anything besides faded jeans and wrinkled shirts, but now was not the time to say as much.
    When Dawn arrived at ten after nine, quite early by her standards, she was wearing a long khaki skirt and a black turtleneck sweater. “If either one of you says a word about these clothes, you’re dead. Let’s just understand that up front.”
    Clarissa snickered. “Can I ask just one