A Temporary Arrangement

by Roxanne Rustand

  "No, a book about wolves."

  She glanced at Keifer, but the boy kept trudging on with his attention on the ground in front of him.

  If the kid had said Ethan Matthews raised platypuses and giraffes, she couldn't have been more surprised. "He writes books?"

  "Not kid books, though."

  "Really." Maybe the boy had things a little confused. The man she'd met at the hospital had hardly seemed the erudite, professorial type.

  Ahead, probably another twenty yards, the first slivers of sunlight picked out a wooden barn that must have been constructed recently, and beyond it, a fenced pasture and a much older barn weathered to pewter-gray.

  On the south side of the new barn, a ten- or twelve-foot pipe gate hung askew from just one hinge, its top bars bent.

  "I think we've just discovered how your dad's livestock got out," Abby said, relieved. "He must've forgotten to chain the gate."

  "Dad doesn't do stuff like that. He's real careful."

  "Maybe when he got hurt out here, he couldn't get it fastened. Let's bring a bucket of grain from the barn and see if we can lure some of those animals back, okay?"

  "I'll get it." Keifer ran through the gate and disappeared around the building. He returned a moment later, ducked into the barn, and soon came out with a bucket of corn that was obviously a heavy load for a kid his size. Puffing, he set it down at her feet. "I think this is weird, though."

  She caught the handle of the bucket in one hand

  and tested the weight of it, then started back down the lane. "What's weird?"

  Keifer chewed at his lower lip. "The pens for the sheep and goats were open, too!"

  Abby switched the heavy bucket to her other hand and flexed her tender fingers. She smiled down at him. "He was hurt, so he was probably in a hurry."

  "No. I mean, he was—but I was out here with him when it happened. He never opened those other gates."

  Abby paused. "You said goats were smart and hard to keep penned, so maybe they just played Houdini."

  "Who?"

  "Houdini was a guy who could escape from just about anything."

  "No." Keifer's voice held an edge of fear. "It wasn't the goats. The locks were sawed off, Abby. Why would anyone do something like that?"

  Abby eyed the muddy barnyard. "I'll take a look if we actually get any of the livestock back up here," she said. "Now, let's see if we can round up some critters."

  Thirty minutes later Abby was hot, muddy and frustrated.

  The sheep and cows were nowhere to be seen, but shaking a bucket of grain certainly attracted the goats. They charged toward her as if that grain were their last, desperate hope for survival, then shouldered one another out of the way and nearly knocked her off her feet.

  ROXANNE RUSTAND 69

  She hurried to the barn, with three irate goats butting at the bucket, and her.

  Headline: Foolish Nurse Lures Angry Goat Mob With Grain — Trampled To Death. On Woman Chased By Goats — Spends Two Weeks In A Pine Tree.

  Both sounded entirely too plausible by the time she'd finally trapped them in their pen.

  Keifer, who'd brought up the rear, eyed them warily as she poured part of the grain into a feeder and quickly slammed the gate shut again.

  Leaning against the gate to catch her breath, she ran a hand wearily through her hair. T ve definitely lost my fondness for goats,*' she announced. "How about you?"

  But Keifer wasn't paying attention. He'd squatted by the gate to study something and held up a long heavy chain and padlock. "See, I told you," he said.

  She stared at the ruined padlock. Then turned slowly to scan the nearly impenetrable forest surrounding the little buildings on three sides.

  Shadows seemed to coalesce, materialize, then slink away. Every boulder every clump of undergrowth offered a place to hide.

  Someone had cut that padlock after Ethan left. Someone who'd wanted to cause trouble. But why?

  And the bigger question... Where was that intruder now?

  She turned to Keifer and reached for his hand just as a much taller shape loomed out of the mist not twenty feet behind the boy.

  She bit back a scream.

  have asked you to come out here. Especially not in this wea—"

  Lightning struck somewhere close with an ear-splitting crack followed by a long, ominous roll of thunder. Raindrops rippled the puddles of standing water at their feet, and then it began to fall in earnest.

  "The goats are in," Abby said over the rising wind. "But I didn't...get..."

  The goats? He shook his head, unable to hear her clearly. "Get back to the house!" he shouted. Keifer took off like a jackrabbit. Abby tried to yell something else, but he gestured and started down the hill, shielding his arm with the tail of his shirt. If the damned thing soaked through, he'd probably need to go back to the hospital again. A long drive. A waste of time.

  Whatever she wanted to say would just have to wait.

  Keifer was already there when Ethan reached the back door. "Uh...just so you know, there's a surprise, Dad. I mean, maybe not a surprise for you, but to us."

  The kid looked worried about Ethan's reaction, for Pete's sake. "What, is the power off again?"

  "That, too."

  Not for the first time, Ethan wondered about the life Keifer led with his mother. There was strict, and then there was too strict.

  "I'm sure everything's fine," Ethan said as he stepped inside. "I— ,%

  Rufus bounded across the room from her make-

  shift bed, her tongue lolling and her tail wagging her entire back end. When he crouched to give her a two-handed rub behind both ears, she leaned into his touch, her eyes closed.

  High-pitched squeals erupted from her bed—a chorus of voices he hadn't expected for another week. He held the dog's face in his hands. "Well, there, Roof. How big a family did you have?"

  "Seven," Keifer said in a small voice. "I heard her barking outside. It was stormy last night, so I went to find her. She was locked in the shed."

  Knowing how timid the boy was about the dark, that search for Rufus had taken considerable courage. "How'd you get shut in there, old girl?" He gave her a final pat and clapped Keifer on the shoulder on his way over to see the pups. "I'm glad you brought her inside. I hadn't fixed up a bed for them in the shed yet." Keifer's words suddenly registered. "You two came all the way out here yesterday, too?"

  "We stayed. All night."

  Abby stepped inside and shucked off her boots. "I see you've met the new additions."

  He hunkered next to Keifer and counted them, then lifted each one. "Four boys, three girls. Nice ones."

  "Rufus sure thinks so. She seemed really worried when we carried them to the house, and she's barely left them alone since."

  "I understand you two stayed overnight. I sure never meant for you to go to all this trouble."

  "That was unintentional, though probably just as well." Abby waved a hand around the kitchen. "We had a few problems."

  He straightened. Tm sure everything's fine. I'm just thankful..." His voice trailed off as he glanced around the kitchen. There were muddy dog prints everywhere. There were also three cake pans on the floor and one on the counter catching water drops from damp spots on the ceiling. **Oh."

  "It's not just here." She indicated the living room. "I've got two buckets by the door. Your phone and electricity have been out since yesterday."

  The kitchen was in a single-story addition to a two-story farmhouse, added when the former owners decided to side the place with rustic half-logs. They'd taken more than a few shortcuts that weren't up to code, as he'd been discovering ever since he bought the place five years ago.

  The roof had started leaking after a wild storm this spring, and topped a long list of repairs to deal with this summer—just one more thing that would have to go on the back burner until his arm healed.

  "I'm really sorry for all your trouble. Not what you expected to be doing on a Saturday night, right?" He groaned, suddenly r
emembering seeing her with her three wild kids at the hospital. "Oh, God. What about your family? Your husband can't be too happy about this."

  "Family?" She cocked her head as if mystified, then chuckled. "You must have seen me with Erin

  Reynolds's kids. Believe me, I'd be gray if those three were mine. I took them overnight as a favor, but I was sure ready to give them back."

  Oblivious to the conversation above him, Keifer looked up at Ethan. "Can I name the pups?"

  Ethan nodded. "I don't see why not. I'll bet you're better at it than me."

  "Which leads me to ask, who named her Rufus?" Abby grinned. "Or was her gender ambiguous at the time?"

  Keifer blushed. "I named her when I was little, 'cause of the way she barked. You know, grrrr-roof"

  "Perfect." Abby laughed, her smile lighting her face and transforming it from pleasant to downright beautiful. "I definitely think you should name all those pups."

  She raised a brow at Ethan and tilted her head toward the living room, probably planning to give him hell out of earshot. Which, truthfully, he probably deserved. Taking a deep breath, Ethan followed her to the fireplace.

  She frowned at his bandaged arm. "Dr. Edwards thought they'd keep you a few days."

  "Nice idea, but I couldn't stay."

  "You went AMA?"

  He shrugged. "Against medical advice? I guess, but I'll be fine."

  "And how on earth did you get back out here so early?"

  "A handy deputy brought me most of the way—

  though some fool left a car blocking the road a half mile back, down by the creek."

  "Really." Her eyes narrowed. "How inconvenient. For the person driving that car, too."

  He winced. "It's yours? I was just going to ask if you'd seen the driver."

  "I called for a tow truck before the phone went dead, but the place was closed. I'm hoping the guy listens to his messages, because there's no way I can get my car out on my own. It's buried to its axles."

  "Which means my truck is..."

  "Back at the hospital."

  "Damn." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I should've called."

  "But the phone's dead, so you couldn't have. Even if you'd tried."

  His arm was starting to throb like hell and he still felt a little woozy. He dropped into the closest chair and leaned back, his eyes closed. "So now we're stranded, until I can get someone to bring my truck out."

  "Except I have your truck keys here. Still, you're lucky I didn't try learning to drive a standard transmission last night." Her voice turned cool. "Count your blessings."

  He'd already seen her bossy, take-charge side at the hospital, so her prickly side came as no surprise. The similarity between her and Barbara was chilling. "Believe me, I'm frustrated with myself, not you." He rolled his head against the cushion to look at her. "This whole mess is my fault."

  She appeared mollified, but that wasn't really a surprise. Barbara always had to be right, too.

  Abby moved closer to inspect his bandage. "So tell me about this arm. Did they do surgery last night?"

  He nodded. "Should've been a simple outpatient deal, so I could leave right after recovery. But the docs figured there was too much contamination. They gave me some sort of antibiotic superdrug by IV."

  "Surely not just a single dose!"

  He curbed his impatience. "I insisted on leaving, but for the next ten days I have to go back to town every day for IV antibiotics and a new dressing. At least I can go to Blackberry Hill Memorial instead of Green Bay."

  "How can you drive your standard transmission to get there?" She eyed him doubtfully. "Do you have anyone who can help out?"

  "I'll manage." Though the surgeon had been adamant about not using that arm for at least four weeks while the nerves and tendons healed. And after that, he was supposed to have rehab.

  In the meantime, he had work to do. Chores. Customers coming in two weeks for a fly-fishing trip...and a son who wouldn't be enjoying the kind of summer he deserved.

  But Ethan would have to figure it out. He had no choice. "Thanks for taking care of my son, and for coming out here. I know I must've been a real jerk at the hospital, yet you went above and beyond the call."

  Abby stared at him in obvious surprise. Dammit, he could be sociable, when his life wasn't going to hell.

  ROXANNE RUSTAND 77

  "I was glad to help out. Though I'm afraid we had some other problems besides puppies and a leaky roof." She worried her lower lip. "Keifer doesn't believe me, but I saw a huge wolf in your driveway."

  "I've never found any wolf tracks near this place, but you might have seen a coyote. They look like wolves to most city folk."

  "It was a wolf. It was big and long, with close-set yellow eyes, and it stared at me for a good minute before it turned away." She shuddered. "I think it was sizing me up for dinner."

  He shrugged casually to allay her obvious fear. "If you were a deer, maybe. Did I hear you say something about the goats?"

  Abby brushed her fingertips over a bronze statue of a wolf on an end table. "That, and just about everything else around here with four legs—you name it, and it was probably on the loose."

  "I shouldn't have asked you to come out here. Just keeping Keifer with you in town was—what did you say?"

  "None of this would've been a problem, if I'd known what chores to do—and if I had any animals to do them for. But when we got back, your cows, goats and sheep were roaming near the house."

  He sighed heavily.

  "It was stormy and getting dark when we arrived," she continued. "I got the gate closed down by the road and just prayed there were no other escape routes."

  "That gate would keep them on my land, but the sheep and goat pen gates were chained and padlocked when I left yesterday. So was the gate to the cow pasture by the barn."

  "If you didn't lock Rufus in the shed, why was she in there? And your gates didn't open by themselves. Those chains were cut. Who would come out here and do something like that?"

  He kept his voice nonchalant. "Maybe just some kids.. .a high school prank."

  But he knew that wasn't true. A lot of people in the county were angry. A lot still held a grudge. This was the most personal retaliation so far, but he knew there would be more.

  It was just a matter of time.

  Abby mopped the kitchen floor while Keifer and Ethan went to the shed to build a roomy dog bed with high sides, so the pups couldn't wiggle away.

  "Very nice," she said after they'd each taken a handful of puppies to their new home. "What are your plans for these little guys?"

  Keifer looked at his dad in alarm. "You'll keep 'em, right?"

  Ethan propped the door partway open with a cement block so Rufus could come and go as she pleased. "I don't need a pack of dogs roaming out here. I'll probably keep one and find homes for the rest."

  "Do you think Mom will let me have one? Could you ask her?"

  "I'll ask, but I can't guarantee she'll say yes, Keif."

  "But you'll talk to her?"

  Ethan nodded, though his hesitance was clear. "You know my opinion doesn't cany much weight with your mom. She's the one who'd have to figure out arrangements when she travels."

  "She has old Mrs. Murdock stay with me when she goes someplace," Keifer said stubbornly. "So I could still take care of a dog when she's gone. And she's gone a lot anyway, so she wouldn't have to put up with a dog much herself."

  Ethan's eyes reflected deep regret as he looked down at the boy. "I'll talk to her. I promise."

  "Yeah." Downcast, Keifer went back into the shed.

  "I get the feeling her answer will be no," Abby ventured.

  Ethan's expression darkened. 'The last thing she'd want is the noise and mess of a dog."

  Abby glanced nervously at her watch. "Speaking of dogs, does your cell phone work? I need to call the shelter."

  "My cell provider has pretty good coverage out here." He unclipped the phone on his belt and tossed it to her. "Be my guest.
"

  "Do you have a phone book I could use?"

  "In the kitchen, but they'd be closed on Sunday morning."

  "I certainly hope so." At Ethan's bemused expression, she added, "I was there with Erin's kids yesterday, and I sort of fell for a hard-luck case."

  Ethan gave her an odd look. "You're adopting a dog?"

  "I have to, or they'll put the poor thing down. I don't exactly have a place to keep her, though. I'm sort of in between homes myself."

  "So I heard."

  "How? I just found out yesterday."

  "Deputy Krumvald is the guy who gave me a ride this morning." A flash of humor lit Ethan's eyes. "Apparently he was sent out on a disturbance call at the Bickham house yesterday. You weren't there when he arrived."

  Dumbfounded, she stared at him. A disturbance call? Hubert was even crazier than she'd thought. "How on earth did the topic ever come up?"

  "I told him you had Keifer, and I needed to pick him up. But I didn't know where you lived, and you weren't answering the cell phone number the hospital gave me. Krumvald remembered your name."

  The heat of embarrassment crawled up the back of her neck. Two weeks here and the police already knew her. Who else had heard about Hubert's complaints?

  "I didn't know where you lived, so the deputy took me to your place," Ethan continued. The fans of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened, and she could see he was struggling to contain a grin. "The old guy was still fuming."

  She stiffened. "Hubert has a real problem with noise."

  "Apparently not when he makes it. He took one

  look at the deputy's car and came outside to rant about late nights and phone calls all night, and hooligans disturbing the peace."

  "Believe me, I'm more than ready to move out."

  "You might want to get him calmed down first. He was babbling about you being a 'woman of ill-repute.'" Ethan held up his hands when she started to sputter. "His words, not mine."

  She broke into helpless laughter. "There could not be a woman on this planet with a less exciting life than mine."