He and Keifer had left it clean, smelling of eau de Pine-Sol. In just forty-eight hours, Abby had made it a—
He smothered a laugh. "Hey, where's the lake trout?"
The framed painting had been hanging over the sofa when he'd bought the place. He'd never gotten around to pitching it; it had to be one of the worst pieces of art in the entire state. The painting had eventually grown on him, though, because every time he studied it, it seemed unbelievably worse.
"The trout?"
"It hung above the sofa. A wonderful example of regional art." He thought he heard her snort, but when he turned to look at her, her face was perfectly innocent.
"That's what I thought," she murmured. "Very regional art."
"In fact, I had a collector up here who gave me a bid on it."
At that, she gave up and laughed. "I'll just bet he
did." She tipped her head toward the living area. "It's behind the sofa now. I swear, those googly fish eyes followed me around the room. They were too eerie for words."
"Well, there's no accounting for taste," he said, which made her laugh even harder.
It was late.
Well after midnight.
She needed to be up early in the morning and he needed to leave. Yet he found it hard to simply walk out the door.
She could laugh at herself, and at him.
She could give her time without hesitation, even when she had to be exhausted.
And she could learn that the dog she loved was missing, and not lay blame.
But no matter how much she attracted him, Abby would be leaving in a few months and he would definitely be staying. Time to go home.
She tipped her head and looked at him. "What?"
"Nothing—nothing at all."
The moment stretched out, marked by his quickening pulse and temptation to find out if her lips would be as soft as he imagined.
Her gaze drifted down to his mouth, as if she was caught in the same spell.
And then her dimples deepened and she flashed a bright smile. "I think I must be falling asleep on my feet," she said. "And morning comes way, way too early around here."
144 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT
"Right." He headed for the door, raising his good arm in farewell. Halfway there he stopped, recalling Keifer's demand at bedtime. "We're going to watch the fireworks on Friday. Keif—uh, we wondered if you'd like to join us."
Her eyes widened and her smile slipped a little. "Wow. It's been years since I've done that. Thanks."
The invitation clearly touched her, and he realized that she was going to be alone out in her cabin now that her dog was gone, and perhaps she wasn't feeling quite so brave anymore. "That guest room in the house is still open, if you decide you'd like more civilization."
Her chin lifted. "I'm perfectly fine, but I do appreciate the offer."
With a nod, he left and sauntered down the moonlit path to the house, whistling as he made his way through the trees.
And found himself looking forward to the Fourth of July.
Abby had worried about Belle since last evening. She'd prayed that the dog would show up, but this morning there'd been no friendly face at her door, no wagging tail.. Just the chatter of chipmunks and the scattering of a few squirrels when she'd called Belle's name.
With Erin and Connor gone to Chicago and Dr. Olson leaving this morning for a three-day continuing education meeting at a golf resort near Madison,
it was only Dr. Edwards, Dr. Leland Anderson and her for the weekly breakfast meeting at Ollie's.
A meeting Abby hoped would last half the usual time, so she could run home to check for Belle before her day at the hospital started.
Leland, as fastidious as ever, slowly sipped at his coffee and neatly placed the cup back on the saucer, then clasped his slender hands. "There really isn't much point in meeting today, with two doctors and our administrator gone."
"Except that Ollie's cinnamon rolls are incomparable." Jill savored another sticky morsel. 'Though coming here is all for the good of the hospital, of course."
"Which brings up a good point," Leland retorted. "We're working at bringing in specialists from Green Bay. We've been remodeling, and will have that MRJ unit installed within two months. But we still aren't getting the staff we need." He looked over his half glasses at Abby, his mouth a thin, disapproving line. "I covered the ER last weekend, and the nurses had been run ragged. I heard them complain that nothing is being done. I realize you're just an interim DON, but what's the problem?"
Abby put down her fork and gave him a level look. "We've gotten some applicants, but most back away because of the benefit package and pay scale."
"No interviews this week?"
"Three. Two weren't quite what we're looking for. One.. flunked her ding test."
"Just three?"
Abby curbed her frustration. "We've got to convince the hospital board to raise salaries and improve the benefits, or we're never going to be competitive."
"The hospital has been struggling, Abby. There are other benefits to living up here—it's a vacation paradise. Maybe you haven't been selling all of the positives to these people."
Jill jerked a napkin out of the dispenser. "Believe me, she's not only working on that, but she's also pulling second shift duty after a full day in management. For someone who's here short-term, she's giving a hundred-fifty percent."
He dipped his head in acquiescence. "That may well be. But I've got another issue that's come up.. .and I'm more than concerned. When we're done here I'd like to talk to you privately, Abby."
"Sure." Mystified, she caught Jill's eye, but Jill just shrugged. "If this is about the hospital, though, I think we should talk about it right now."
He splayed his hands on the table. "I don't think—"
"Please. This is a very private area. Whatever you have to say will stay right here."
"Very well. As a member of the board, I try to be vigilant about potential problems, and right now, if a state inspector was to walk through our front door, we could get dinged on violations any first year nursing student knows to avoid."
"I'm not sure what you mean/* Abby said slowly. "Have you found discrepancies with the med passes? Patient care?"
"'Charting." He lowered his voice. "I did my rounds early this morning and the initial nursing assessments weren't done on the two patients who came in last night."
Abby's mouth fell open. "Of course they were. That's the first step with every admission, and I was there covering a shift. I filled out those forms myself."
"Maybe things got too hectic, and you set them aside to do later."
"I clearly remember doing them, and I put them in the charts. Ask Dr. Olson."
"I'll do that when he gets back to town." Leland's voice grew excessively slow and patient. "I understand this job would be challenging to someone coming from an educational setting. It's just not the same now. is it?"
"Of course not. But I assure you—"
"And another thing.. .about the corrections in your charting," he tsked-tsked as he shook his head. "you surely know the protocol regarding this."
"Corrections?"
"It's universal medical procedure, in even hospital policy manual I've ever seen. A simple, thin line through the error that doesn't obliterate the original, and an 4 M.E.' initialed there for Medical Error. Not." he added firmly, "scribbles that hide the original, and that might be perceived as covering up
a serious error. That could open us up to all sorts of trouble if there's ever a medical review."
Uneasy, she thought back over the two shifts she'd covered as an R.N. during the past two days. With the exception of one miswritten word— which she'd dealt with per standard protocol—she couldn't remember any corrections. 'Tm well aware of that"
"Good"
But the censorious tone in his voice and the quick second glance he gave Jill said it all. He not only believed she'd been ignorant, but that perhaps she'd been trying to mask some sort of err
or on her part— and now wasn't owning up to the truth.
She hadn't cared much for the man before. Opinionated, always the devil's advocate and cynical about the improvements at the hospital, he'd made her uncomfortable since their first meeting.
As a member of the board he would've seen her application. Since he seemed to be absorbed by every 7 last, persnickety detail of anything that crossed his radar, he had to remember that she'd had three years of clinical nursing experience before going back to college, and had worked weekends in an ER until she'd completed her degrees.
Yet he'd just accused her of ignorance and incompetence, over incidents that hadn't even occurred. "Where did you find these altered progress notes?"
His eyes narrowed. "The Ferguson chart. Inter-
disciplinary progress notes. But it isn't anything you can fix."
She struggled for an even tone. "Of course not. I just need to see what was done, because I've never made the types of errors you've described."
Jill quickly steered the conversation toward the annual Fourth of July parade, the street dance following the fireworks and the holiday sailboat race out on Sapphire Lake. Abby nodded now and then as she considered Leland's accusation.
When the discussion wound down, she cleared her throat. "I just want to add one thing. Leland believes those missing assessments and charting errors are my fault. But my question is—who else could've done it...and why? Maybe it'll happen again, and one of these days, a patient's life could be at stake."
"I agree," Jill said firmly. "I think we'd all better keep our eyes open. Because heaven knows, our hospital has had enough trouble as it is."
ROXANNE RUSTAND 151
But how could she have missed all the signs of trouble along the way?
"A nickel for your thoughts," Ethan said over Keifer's head, from his side of the blanket they'd spread out on the grass.
"Um...the weather. It's definitely a nice night to be out here."
"Good weather?" He grinned wryly. "That would certainly account for the grim expression."
"And, truthfully, I've been worrying about Belle all day. What if she's hurt? Hungry? What if..." She couldn't bring herself to say the words.
"Keifer and I both went looking again today. We hiked for several hours, and also went out in the truck." He frowned. "It's hard to believe she'd take off like that, unless she took out after a rabbit and just went too far to find her way back."
"If she was a stray long enough, maybe she learned to hunt to stay alive." Though she'd been so gaunt, she sure hadn't been very good at it. "And it's only been a couple days, now. I still have hope."
Keifer leaned forward to grab a Mountain Dew out of the cooler and swatted at a mosquito with his other hand. He watched a couple of boys saunter past.
"Hey," the taller redhead said to him without breaking stride.
"Hey." Keifer's face fell when the two kept walking.
He settled back on his elbows and stared glumly at the sky. "It's almost dark. Isn't this supposed to start?"
"Another twenty minutes, probably. Do you want
152 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT
a hot dog?" Ethan reached for the back pocket of his faded denims and pulled a five out of his wallet. "Do you want anything, Abby?"
She shook her head. "No thanks."
She'd been up early and at the hospital by eight this morning, hoping to get done in time to get back to Ethan's to finally make a supper. Instead, with a multicar pileup out on the highway and short staffing, she'd ended up working until almost eight. Even now, her senses humming with residual adrenaline, the thought of eating made her stomach tense.
Keifer accepted the money and bounded down the knoll to the park baseball diamond, where a concession stand had drawn long lines since they'd arrived.
Ethan propped an elbow on the blanket and rested his head against his palm to watch him go. "This is the first time he's been here for the Fourth. I imagine he's missing his friends and the much bigger celebration down in Minneapolis."
"Does he know any kids up here?"
"No."
"Maybe you could introduce him to Erin Reynolds's kids. They're close to the same age, I think. He certainly wouldn't have a quiet moment with those three around."
"Aren't those the ones who got you evicted?"
Abby laughed. "Only because my landlord had zero tolerance for noise. He even thought I was rowdy, so you have to factor that into your assumption about Erin's boys. Lily is just a lamb."
A sudden bang reverberated through the air, followed by a blinding flash and an earthshaking explosion Abby felt clear to her bones.
A second later, another rocket launched upward with a loud whoosh—and this time, a sparkling sphere of red stars filled the sky overhead. A collective gasp of delight rose from the crowd.
"Beautiful," Abby breathed. "I haven't seen fireworks in years."
Ethan nodded, watching the crowd near the concession stand. "Looks like Keifer found some kids to hang out with."
Sure enough, he was standing with the boys who'd passed by earlier. All three stared up at the sky with rapt attention. "That should make this even better for him. Oh, look!"
A thick shower of diamonds shot high into the air, splitting into multiple branches that arced far out over the park. The next shell produced crackling sparks and intense bursts of light followed by an explosion that rained silver ribbons of stars.
Ethan eased onto his back and, mindful of his bandaged arm, stacked his hands beneath his head to watch the show. "How come you didn't spend the holiday with relatives?"
"Detroit was a tad far, and I certainly don't have any vacation time."
"Still, it's a three-day weekend. Do you have a lot of family back there?"
"Parents. A few cousins. The rest of the family is out east."
Detroit wasn't quite far enough. Her father's disapproval and her mother's disappointment over her summer plans and the job in California were still too fresh. And just in case she might forget, in their weekly phone calls they still begged her to rethink her decision, come home and be sensible.
There were even murmurs about coming up to see her.
Abby sighed. At thirty-two, she was still subject to parental lectures on life, and it was getting just a little old. "So how about you?" she asked, fending off any more questions with a parry of her own. "Local?"
"Grew up in Minnesota. Worked there, Wyoming and Montana before moving here."
Curious, she turned to look at him. "I'm not even sure what you are.. .or do."
He shifted uncomfortably, then gave up and stood, hooking a thumb in his back pocket. He scanned the crowd during each burst of light until he picked out his son. His shoulders relaxed. "Wildlife biologist, mostly. I've dabbled in a few other things along the way. I'm on a sabbatical right now, of sorts."
Keifer had mentioned something about Ethan taking photographs for a book, so she waited, wondering if he would say anything. But he just stared up at the sky. "Peony," he said. "Nice one."
She got to her feet, too. "What?"
"That last shell. The stars fly outward and then drift down. No tails. The Willow droops, too, but the falling stars have thick, sparkling trails."
He was far more informative about the fireworks than himself. Typical man.
Which, she reminded herself, had been one of the bigger problems with Jared. No information. And where did it get her? Canceled florists and photographers and testy three-piece string ensembles, and a dizzying amount of lost deposits.
The darkness, interspersed with flashes of light, created a sense of intimacy despite the crowd farther down the slope. Even in the poor lighting she was all too aware of just how close Ethan was. How big, with that broad, hard chest and those long, lean legs.
She suddenly wished Keifer was back on the blanket between them.
Another dozen brilliant explosions of color filled the sky before she noticed Ethan watching her instead of the show. "What?"
"I w
as just wondering why a woman like you isn't married with six kids."
"You mean, a woman my age," she said dryly.
"At whatever age."
"For one thing, I'm not the maternal type. For another...' She hesitated a moment too long over the half-truth. "I've always thought my career was more important than picking up someone's socks."
"Ever been married?"
"No!"
"Engaged, then." His dimples deepened. "Definitely engaged."
"I.. .was. Big mistake. Very big."
"Ah."
"It all comes down to having the right priorities. Making careful decisions based on thoughtful and thorough analysis. I think—"
A moment ago he'd been an arm's length away. Now he seemed to loom over her. He gently cupped her chin in his hand. "Thinking is a good thing," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "But sometimes, impulse is even better."
His hand was calloused, warm. His hazel eyes glittered with the reflection of the light bursting overhead. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepened as he flashed a faint grin and then lowered his mouth to hers for a brief kiss.
Her breath caught. Heat flooded through her, warming her clear down to her pink-polished toenails and in every place in between.
She blinked, and it took a moment before she could gather her scattered thoughts. "I—I don't think that was a good idea."
Another lie, because nothing had ever felt so good. So absolutely right. Even now, there was a distinct possibility he'd just shorted out her entire autonomic nervous system, because her heart still wasn't hitting on all four cylinders.
He took a step back, his face a mask of regret. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have done that."
She'd always been practical. Unemotional. Cost benefit was a logical approach to most things in life, and with the exception of her blindness where Jared had been concerned, she usually made wise and defensible decisions. But there was something about Ethan's mouth on hers that made her want to throw caution to the winds.
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