Free Loving Linsey by Rachelle Morgan

anything that doesn’t gain him in the long run.”
    â€œHe’s a doctor. It’s in his soul to heal.”
    Linsey decided not to voice her doubts about Daniel even having a soul. Instead she told her friend, “If things are that hard, I wish you’d let me help.”
    â€œOh, no. You know that Noah is too proud to take charity.”
    â€œIt wouldn’t be charity. It would be a donation for the children.”
    â€œThanks just the same, Linsey, but we’ll be fine. Are you in a hurry today? Do you have time for a visit?”
    Knowing that this might be the last time she’d see her friend, Linsey spent the morning visiting with Jenny, helping her with the few chores she couldn’t manage on her own, and entertaining the children, whose energy seemed endless. She soaked in all the little nuances of life and living that had seemed so trivial before: the creative comfort of baking pies, inane chatter over the latest fashions, the soft innocence of a child’s hand clasped in her own. . . .
    If Jenny noticed that Linsey got a little weepy-eyed now and then, or that she lingered at her side more than usual, she didn’t say anything.
    Neither did she bring up Daniel’s name again, much to Linsey’s relief, though he continued to hover at the back of her mind. She kept seeing him lolling on the sofa with a passel of children, kept hearing that rumbling from his lungs—that almost-but-not-quite laugh . . .
    Linsey finally took her leave after she and Jenny put the children down for their naps, her heart aching at the thought that she might not see her friend again, yet knowing she could tarry no longer with all the things yet left to do. Back in Horseshoe, after she returned the carriage, she decided to stop by Granny Yearling’s to see if Aunt Louisa might like company on her walk home.
    Granny Yearling lived in a little cottage onan offshoot road behind the schoolhouse. To get there, Linsey had to pass by the apothecary.
    Voices coming through an open window at the back of the building clashed through the air like swords. Linsey’s steps slowed. She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but something about the tone tugged at her, compelled her to pick up her skirts and wander closer.
    Reaching the sill, she stood on tiptoe and peeked inside an examination room. An open doorway in the far wall gave her an unobstructed view into the office across the hall. Daniel stood stiff and square-shouldered in the doorway while his father paced the floor in front of him.
    â€œ. . . the right, telling her she didn’t have to pay?”
    â€œShe didn’t have any money, Dad. I accepted the chickens as trade.”
    â€œWe aren’t running a charity, Junior. We have a service to perform, and by God, if folks want that service they’ve got to be willing to pay cold, hard coin for it!”
    â€œYou know as well as I do that every penny she and Noah make goes into those kids and that house. If we demand money, we might as well be stealing food from the children’s mouths. Even you can’t be that heartless.”
    â€œHeartless has nothing to do with it. Just you try paying the university admissions office with a bunch of damned farm animals, and see where that gets you. They want money, Junior.” He slammed one fisted hand into the palm of the other. “And every pennyyou give away adds one more day to getting into the university.”
    â€œDon’t you think I know that?”
    The reply came out in a harsh, anguished whisper that cut Linsey to the core.
    Doc Sr. stared up at his son for several long, tense seconds before he finally said, “Yes, Junior, I suspect you do know that. And I’m beginning to wonder if you want that surgical degree as badly as you claim you do.”
    He then burst out the door, out of sight. Daniel remained behind, alone in the room, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped.
    As Linsey