A Temporary Arrangement

by Roxanne Rustand

  Warm? She felt more than warm, and not from the balmy late-afternoon breeze fluttering the curtains. "You're right." She shouldered the delicate strap of her purse. "We'll, um, be lucky if we make it to the fairgrounds by five."

  Keifer grumbled as he grabbed his backpack and went out onto the porch.

  Abby started to follow, but Ethan touched her arm. She glanced up at him, prepared for one more reminder that she should think about moving back to town, but then their eyes met and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver through her.

  With just a half step toward him, she knew she'd be walking right into his arms...and moving into a situation she wasn't ready to handle.

  Especially not with a ten-year-old boy pacing the porch.

  "You look stunning tonight, Abby." His voice was low, and a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

  And just like that, the careful distance they'd maintained seemed to melt away like ice cream on a hot summer's day.

  "There's just something about red sequins.. .or is it those shoes?" he added. "Must be the shoes."

  He dropped a swift kiss on her mouth, then lifted her chin with a forefinger. "You are going to drive those old guys wild."

  teers fold each napkin into an upright tulip tied with a mauve satin bow, and dressed each chair in a mauve linen cover tied at the back with a snowy tulle bow.

  The little napkin soldiers were all still standing at attention, thank goodness, and the silverware gleamed in the candlelight. Perfect.

  "You've all absolutely outdone yourselves!"

  Abby turned to discover Grace at her side. The older woman was dressed in a fuchsia full-length dress topped with a mint-fuchsia-and-black floral jacket that flattered her stocky figure. The glittery peacock brooch on her jacket didn't begin to match the sparkle in her eyes.

  Abby gave the hospital's retired director of nursing a swift hug. "Amazing, isn't it? We've already grossed almost nine thousand on the meal and dance alone."

  'The donor list is impressive." Grace waved one of the brochures she'd picked up by the door. 'The volunteers have done a fantastic job."

  "And the silent auction, have you taken a good look?" Abby nodded toward the tables along the back wall, where gift baskets, merchandise and posters advertised the items being offered.

  One piece, a crystal sculpture of a howling wolf with a pup at its side, was so exquisite in its detail— Abby couldn't believe someone would donate such a treasure. And at the end of the table, a large color poster displayed the crowning item: a restored, candy-apple-red 1966 Mustang donated by three area car dealers.

  "The car alone is already up to almost eight

  thousand," Abby marveled. 'This should be an exciting night!"

  Grace smiled. "Thanks to you and the others who've worked so hard. I'm afraid I haven't been any help at all."

  "You had Erin's boys for a while, though, and I hear you've done more traveling since then. Was it Washington, D.C.?"

  "A couple weeks out east. Since then we've been busy wallpapering and painting."

  Abby bit her lower lip and glanced around the near-empty room. "I'd like to talk to you sometime. Privately, if I could. About something that happened at the hospital."

  "Of course." Grace's eyebrows drew together. "Is there something wrong?"

  So Dr. Anderson hadn 't reported the charting situation to her, then. He and Grace went back so far in their association at the hospital that Abby had figured he might have. She glanced around once more and lowered her voice. "I've had a problem with someone. I think it's one of the nurses, though I can't identify who. I thought you might have some ideas."

  The furrow in Grace's brow deepened. She took a piece of paper and a pen from her evening bag, jotted down her name and number, and handed it to Abby. "We can certainly discuss it, though I honestly never had a lick of serious trouble with any of the staff at the hospital now. But do call me tomorrow."

  "Thanks."

  A distinguished, elderly gentleman waved to Grace from the silent auction display. "That's Warren," she said fondly. "I'd better see what he's up to."

  "And I'd better see if Erin needs anything done." Abby laughed. "I've been her administrative assistant for this affair, but she's so efficient I haven't had much to do."

  She found Erin in the entry way of the pavilion, her face flushed and her eyes wild. A hospital van had been backed up to the wide double doors. "They're here early" she moaned. "And of all things, we've got parmesan-crusted chicken breasts. We can't keep them warm here—and if we send them back, they'll be overdone and dried out in another two hours. Chicken is so fragile."

  The recently hired manager of the dietary department, Georgia Yancey, pulled herself up, clearly in a snit. "We were told five o'clock. And it wasn't easy, preparing all of this while taking care of the patient and staff meals at the same time."

  "But the flyers have been all over town. In the hallways at the hospital. There were several articles in the paper."

  "Mr. Crupper specifically said five o'clock," Georgia repeated. "He called just this week, to make sure everything was in order."

  Erin turned to Abby. "Leo must have gotten it mixed up," she said grimly. "Five o'clock was the time for us to be here for the last-minute preparations. Not dinner. Where is Leo, anyway?"

  "I haven't seen him.'* Abby stared at the banks of stainless-steel containers in the truck. "What are our best options, Georgia?"

  "Start over."

  "Okay, then—what options can we afford?" Abby thought fast. "You've had a number of years experience in a Chicago country club, right? What about putting the chicken directly on the wild rice, instead of having them separate, and then covering it all with some sort of white wine sauce?"

  "I could do that, sure. Menu won't match what we advertised."

  "At this point, we need edible. Memorable. Not a perfect match."

  "I'll seal it in foil, then, while it's being held. With plenty of the sauce, low heat. A touch of bacon, sauteed mushrooms, maybe." Georgia pursed her lips. '"Caramelized onions as a garnish?"

  "Wow. I think I should come along and help you taste test. You're even making junior hungry." Erin grinned and patted her round belly. "People should actually be coming well before seven to bid on the silent auction. Maybe we can serve earlier, if they're all here?"

  Georgia's eyes opened wider. 'The servers. Oh, man—they're already on their way." She scurried out to her van, flung open the driver's side door and lunged inside for her cell phone.

  After a few minutes of animated conversation

  she rounded the back of the truck, closed the doors and drove off.

  "Leo was head of the food committee, but he should have gone through me for anything involving hospital staff." Erin watched the van disappear. "I'm going to personally kill him. The minute that man walks in the building, he is history. What else can go wrong?"

  "Nothing. It's a perfect summer evening. The decorations are lovely." A group of men in tuxes appeared at the door carrying instrument cases and music stands. "And with the orchestra here, we should be set. Best of all, I saw the hospital's maintenance crew out here this afternoon, spraying for mosquitoes."

  "Thank heavens." Erin's face lit up. "That reminds me, believe it or not, of something I've been meaning to ask you."

  "Fire away."

  "The surgeon in Chicago was really positive about correcting Lily's clubfoot, and he has a sterling reputation. Lily is so thrilled.... Yesterday we got a letter saying he has an opening in his surgery schedule the last week in August."

  "Will you take it?"

  "Absolutely. Lily has been beaming ever since. She'd hoped to be just like the other kids when school starts again." Erin smiled. "She's such a little trouper. She knows she'll have a cast and crutches for the first few weeks of school, but she doesn't want to wait a moment longer."

  "Wonderful news." Abby gave her friend a quick hug. "Do you want me to watch the boys again?"

  Erin regarded her dou
btfully. 'They got you evicted last time, and this would be for five or six days."

  "Keifer will be back in Minneapolis by then, but 111 still be in town that last week. I'll check with Ethan."

  **I cant thank you enough. I figured it might be too much for Grace and Warren again, and none of our relatives live anywhere close."

  "Just curious, though—how in the world did mosquitoes remind you of this?*

  Erin made a face. "Yesterday evening the boys took Lily outside to play catch, without bug spray. All three came back covered with bites—especially Lily. Connor told her it's because she's such a sweet girl, but she moves a lot slower than the other two, so she's probably an easier target."

  "Poor bab>."

  "I owe you, after this." Erin touched Abby's hand in gratitude. "Oh, look, people are already coming!"

  They stood and watched as couples started strolling into the building; a rainbow of pretty dresses contrasting with the dark suits and blazers. People Abby recognized from businesses in town and from church. Hospital board members and their spouses. Staff members including Gwen, who arrived with several of the other nurses, and Carl, who'd arrived with one of the nurse's aides.

  Dr. Edwards walked in arm-in-arm with her husband Grant. Her long skirt and loose, silver-se-

  quined halter top masked the curve of her five-month pregnancy, although the attentiveness and obvious adoration in Grant's eyes still gave it away.

  Gwen waved, then stopped next to Abby. "This is going to be a wonderful night for the hospital, isn't it?"

  "I'm just hoping it all goes well."

  "I've been meaning to ask you about your new dog." Gwen touched a rhinestone poodle brooch pinned to her filmy emerald dress. "A friend mentioned that you'd gotten one, and I just wanted to tell you about the obedience classes at the high school every fall. What kind of dog did you get?"

  "A mix, probably some springer and golden retriever. She's too shy for crowds, though."

  "Really." Gwen regarded her thoughtfully. "That'll change if you take her to the lessons. They sure helped my Petey." She rose up on her tiptoes and waved to someone across the room. "Oops, there's my daughter. I'd better get over there before she buys everything in sight."

  She crossed the room and disappeared into the crowd around the Mustang display.

  Ethan broke away from a conversation and sauntered toward Abby.

  Easily a head taller than most of the other men, his confident, easy grace set him apart from the others.

  "He looks like he really wants something. Probably you." Erin gave Abby a nudge and a wink. "Now, tell me that man doesn't have the hots for you. Just look at the gleam in his eyes!" She feigned

  an exaggerated glance at her wrist. "Oops, I think I need to check on...something. I'll leave you kids to yourselves."

  "So," Abby said crisply, waving a hand to encompass the pavilion and the people. "What do you think?"

  Ethan's left dimple deepened. 'That you're easily the most beautiful woman here. That your dress is... amazing."

  "Spandex and sequins. I look forward to being able to breathe in about five hours."

  He moved closer and rested a possessive hand at her waist. "I can't begin to tell you what it does to me. Not," he amended, "that you aren't awfully cute in jeans and a tee."

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dr. Ericks-son hovering not more than fifteen feet away, and realized why Ethan had moved so close. "Thanks. I'm sure he got the message this time."

  "Who?"

  "You are definitely my white knight. Keep it up and I'll make breakfast tomorrow—even if it isn't part of our deal." She tipped her head toward the silent auction tables and looped her arm through his. "Let's go take a look and see if there's anything you simply can't live without."

  Anything you can't live without. That wouldn't be the trinkets and time-shares and electronic gizmos displayed so artfully between mounds of silvery gauze. But Abby...

  198 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT

  Tonight she'd twisted her blond hair up into some sort of knot, with curly tendrils framing her face.

  How it stayed in place was a mystery...but it looked as if unfastening that single bar of diamonds might release the entire thing and let all that silky hair cascade down her back. The prospect intrigued him.

  And the dress.

  He'd mostly tried to avoid looking—which might be why he'd been focusing on her fancy hair— because the dress had definitely been designed with seduction in mind.

  With the release of that one bejeweled strap over her shoulder, would the entire thing just drop into a puddle at her feet? It caressed and molded every curve, which brought up an even more intriguing question. How could she possibly have anything on underneath?

  The idea had been haunting him since he'd first seen her tonight.

  The openly appreciative glances from the other men in the room made him irritable.

  "Where's that shawl?" he asked, scanning the room. "You should have it on."

  She was leaning over to study the stunning crystal sculpture of a wolf, her palms braced on the table, and the damned dress had hiked up to reveal far too much of her long legs. "I'm fine, really. It's not cold."

  "Then maybe," he advised testily, "you'll want to be more careful? You're going to give poor Leo a heart attack."

  Tugging down the hem of her dress, she straight-

  ened sharply, color rising in her cheeks when she glanced over her shoulder to where Erin was having her talk with Leo about the meal delivery.

  Erin was talking, anyway, but Leo didn't appear to be listening. His gaze was fixed on the back of Abby's low-cut dress.

  "Oh." She glared at Leo and folded her arms across her chest. "Honestly, he needs to find someone his own age."

  "Honey, a man of any age has to look at someone who's truly hot. We're hard-wired that way."

  Her color deepened and one hand fluttered at her throat. Her eyes met his for a millisecond and then veered away.

  He gave himself a mental kick. If he wasn't careful, he was going to risk destroying the delicate balance they'd managed to achieve—camaraderie— with any sort of physical awareness held firmly in check.

  "So, did you, um, have a nice visit with Peter?"

  Another little tendril of hair had escaped its mooring and now hung provocatively at her cheek; a gleaming, curling ribbon of gold. It took him a second to remember who Peter was. "Uh...yeah."

  She watched him expectantly, one delicately arched brow raised. "You two looked awfully intense. Is anything wrong?"

  "Nothing that should interfere with tonight."

  She frowned. "Okay, now you have to tell me. Is it something about your trespasser? Or Belle?"

  200 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT

  A good question. "Peter sees a lot of local traffic at his store—farmers buying feed and seed, townsfolk coming for dog food. The guys hang around to drink coffee and play cards. He says there's been rising anger over some recent wolf kills. Given the location, it was probably the Lake Lunara pack."

  A narrow line creased between her brows. "The one you've been studying."

  "Right. Two kills were verified and the compensation forms have been submitted. It's illegal to hunt the wolves, but there's talk about someone needing to take care of the problem, once and for all."

  "Did he catch any names?"

  "None of them were stupid enough to say they 'd do it. The state pays fair market value. But they're saying that reparation doesn't begin to cover the years of cultivating good breeding stock, or the emotional attachment if a pet is lost."

  "I guess I understand that, but it's still illegal to hunt wolves, right?"

  "To the tune of some hefty fines."

  "If the guy is caught."

  "But thousands of acres of timber, wetlands and the sparse population up here make that a tough job." Ethan shook his head slowly. "Catching a single poacher in Northern Wisconsin is about as easy as finding a lost contact lens in a lake, unless someone calls in
a tip."

  An image of the Lunara pack's alpha female playing with her pups flashed through his thoughts. Last year she'd whelped four and successfully raised

  two. Both had been with the pack this summer as yearlings, though come October, they'd likely disperse perhaps seventy miles or more to establish their own territories.

  One of them wouldn't be making that trip.

  "Frank Carter is the interim wolf biologist for this area. He called me this afternoon, and said there's a mortality signal coming from a radio collar in the Lunara area."

  "That doesn't sound good."

  "It isn't. The collar has been still for too long. Occasionally a wolf can slip a collar, but it usually means the wolf is dead."

  The dinner —despite Leo's interference—came off without a hitch. The spinach, strawberry and mandarin salads were topped with a zippy raspberry vinaigrette dressing, the chicken was moist and tender on its bed of wild rice.

  Georgia hadn't been able to salvage the broccoli, which had turned olive-drab and had to be pitched, but the second batch was bright green, al dente and perfect.

  And even better than the decadent cappuccino mousse swirled into edible chocolate cups for dessert, the orchestra was innovative and Ethan, by all accounts, proved to be a superb dancer.

  That meant Abby ended up giving him to the bank president's wife, Erin, and to several other women who'd practically wrenched him away for the privilege of a dance.

  202 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT

  "I'm back, and I'm not leaving," he said, grinning down at her as he led Abby through an intricate salsa. "If one of those other women come back, feel free to belt them."

  "Heck, no. You can get arrested for assault, not me." She stumbled slightly but he held her securely. "Oops, sorry. I don't think I've done this one since college. Where did you learn to dance so well?"

  "My ex-wife. She was a dance instructor when we were in college."

  "Very private lessons," Abby teased.

  "Much needed, but not all that successful," he said with a wry grin. "She said I was one of her least adept students. Ever."