A Temporary Arrangement

by Roxanne Rustand

  Keifer sat glumly on the edge of the porch. "Why can't I go, too? I thought Saturdays were supposed to be fun."

  Since hearing the gunshot, Ethan had refused to let him come along. "Another time, maybe."

  Keifer's lower Up jutted out. "You said that last time. You're always on the stupid computer or taking some guy out fishing or watching those dumb wolves."

  It wasn't exactly true. Every day, Ethan took Keifer fishing or saddled up Buddy and let him ride...they'd been hiking....

  With every day, Ethan hoped they were forging a stronger bond.. .and was even more upset about the boy's imminent departure.

  But it was true that Keifer didn't have friends here, other than the Reynolds kids, and the days probably dragged for him.

  When Ethan was working in his home office, the boy either played with the puppies or came inside to watch DVDs and play video games.

  Not living here during the school year meant he didn't have connections with the local kids, and he'd turned down Ethan's offers to enroll him in swimming or baseball or other summer sports in town.

  Abby appeared on the porch and spared Ethan a

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  cool glance before smiling at Keifer. "Hey, remember what we planned for this afternoon?"

  The boy's shoulders sagged. "A movie."

  "You still want to go, right? It's our turn to treat the Reynolds kids."

  Keifer looked up at Ethan, then turned on his heel. "I guess. I got nothing else to do."

  Ethan watched him trudge up the porch steps and felt a bucket-load of guilt and regret settle in his chest as he climbed into his truck and drove the five miles to the Buford place. I promise. ..next week will just be for you.

  Chickens and ducks scattered as he turned off the highway onto a weed-choked lane. A half mile in, he found a clapboard house with a torn screen in the window and the door hanging ajar. A ramshackle barn listed seriously to the west behind the house.

  A battered pickup with its hood up stood in the middle of a barnyard cluttered with rusting implements. The broad rear end of a man in greasy coveralls hung out over the front fender.

  The frenzied barking of a coonhound chained to a tree brought the man backing out of the motor with a scowl. He hitched the strap holding up his coveralls and stood still, making no effort at hospitality. Rhythmically, he slapped the wrench he held against his opposite palm.

  "Harlan Buford?"

  That earned Ethan a cold stare.

  "I'm Ethan Matthews."

  "I know who you are." He bellowed at the dog to shut up and waited until it slunk to the far end of its chain. "What the hell do you want?"

  "I understand you had some trouble up here." When the man didn't answer, Ethan added, "I hear you lost a coonhound."

  "Damned wolves. You thought they were a great idea, some years back." He spat a stream of chewing tobacco juice on the ground. "You lost any livestock yet? Any of your dogs?"

  "A calf, though I'm guessing it was killed by another kind of predator."

  "I lost three calves this spring. Woulda been good breeding stock. This week I lost a hound."

  "You're sure it was the wolves?"

  "DNR guy came out and confirmed it," Harlan snarled. "So I'm gonna get restitution. But that don't replace the real value of my hound. The years of training." His lips curled. "And the affection of a man for his best friend."

  "The state goes by the recommendations of breeders. The kennel club. The current market."

  "I said, it still ain't gonna cover what that hound was worth to me" The man's eyes narrowed. His voice dripped venom. "And what the hell is it to you? You ain't working for the state now anyway, from what I hear. You got no authority—you're doing some pansy-ass study."

  "One of the yearlings in the pack of wolves I'm studying was shot a week ago. The next day, I

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  heard rifle fire. I'm worried about the safety of those wolves."

  "Safety? That's what the locals got to worry about" Harlan continued to slap the wrench against his palm, his stance the stiff, alert posture of a pit bull on the verge of attack. "If you're thinking it was me, you're wrong."

  "I'm just stopping by a few farms to spread the word. The state's doing a necropsy on the carcass, and there'll be a substantial reward for any information leading to the arrest of the person responsible." Ethan forced a casual smile. "If you knew who did it, you could make a heck of a lot of money with just a phone call."

  Harlan's gaze flickered. "Why in hell would I know?"

  Because it's written all over your face.

  Ethan shrugged. "See you around. Sorry to hear about your dog."

  One down, three to go. With the lure of a reward and the veiled warning about consequences, this trolling expedition just might scare the poacher into stopping or lead to a name.

  And either would help save the Lake Lunara pack.

  On Sunday night Keifer belly-flopped onto his bed, reached to pick his Game Boy off the floor and started playing Alien Space Invaders for the fifth time that day. After an entire year of being in school, he'd looked forward to being here with Dad. He'd imagined lots of adventures, just like the ones he'd read about.

  He'd let his imagination run wild, and he'd conveniently forgotten that northern Wisconsin didn't exactly have mountains and canyons and wild rivers. He'd also forgotten that Dad had to work...

  Keifer cut a quick glance at the darkened windows and wished there were curtains.

  He'd gone to feed Dad's horse an apple last night...and had nearly run into someone standing beside the barn.

  The guy had been wearing black, from his knit watch cap to his jeans, like someone out of a ninja movie. And the guy had seen him.

  Not only seen him, but had grabbed him by the shoulders and shaken him, hard. "You never saw me, kid," he'd rasped in a harsh voice. "You tell anyone and your dog will die. And someone else here is gonna get hurt, real bad. And you know what? It could be you. Understand?"

  Terrified, Keifer had been too stunned to speak.

  The guy had given him another hard shake. "You better, because I'll know if you tell. It'll be your fault if anything happens to your dad."

  And then he'd given Keifer a shove into the wild raspberry vines growing by the side of the barn. The tiny thorns left bloody scratches that stung his hands and face, but he'd been too afraid to crawl free until he'd heard nothing but the sounds of the livestock for a long, long time.

  Shivering from a cold sweat, his heartbeat still thundering in his ears, he'd slipped into the house un-

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  noticed. He'd washed with cold water until the blood was gone and just a thin network of scratches remained, but Dad had still noticed.

  So he'd lied and said he'd stumbled into the raspberries.

  Ever since, his stomach had been tied in knots and he'd flinched at every sound outside. He'd nearly cried Don't go! when Dad went out to do chores this morning.

  He knew he should tell. Maybe Dad could do something about that guy. Yet the forest was deep and dark around here, and stretched for endless miles.

  If Dad called the sheriff, that guy could hide too well to be found.. .but he still might see the patrol car, and then he'd know that Keifer had ratted on him.

  And then...

  Keifer tried to concentrate on the electronic game remote in his hands. He lost control and the superhero on the screen died in a blast of gunfire from the hidden Forces of Doom.

  He took a shuddering breath.

  If Keifer wasn't careful, the same thing could happen for real.

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  together, like maybe...fishing. I'd really, really like to do that."

  "Not tonight. But tomorrow, yes."

  Abby came out into the yard and shaded her eyes against the sun. "What's up?"

  Keifer glared at Ethan. "Now I know why I don't live with you," he cried. "Mom was right. You don't care if I
'm here or not."

  "Your mother said that?" Ethan fought to keep his voice even. "It's not true."

  "I overheard her talking to her boyfriend. Why would she lie?" He took the porch steps two at a time. The kitchen door slammed behind him.

  Abby watched him go, then turned back to Ethan. "Oh, dear. Not a good day?"

  "Keifer doesn't want me to leave this evening." Ethan sighed. "I don't blame him. He's only got three weeks left. I just wish this summer could have been different."

  "Give yourself a break," Abby said firmly. "You've done what you had to do. You had this year to complete your study, and you couldn't let that go. Right? Parents with full custody can't entertain their kids 24/7, either."

  "I wanted him to have such a great time that..."

  "He'd want to stay for good? It isn't his choice now, anyway. It's all set up in your custody arrangement."

  "I just want him to love coming here, every chance he gets. Instead, I think he's going to dread having to ever return."

  "You're a great father." She moved closer and rested a comforting hand on Ethan's arm. "He's not saying he hates being here. He just wants more time with you, because that's the best part of the day for him."

  "I guess."

  "And I couldn't help but hear that he's worried about your safety. Living in suburbia most of the year, he probably thinks the forest is a scary place. And that last outburst? He was just lashing out because he's upset. I wouldn't put too much stock in what he said."

  Some of Ethan's tension eased. "I suppose you're right."

  "Of course I am. Resident nurse and family counselor at your service, low rates." She grinned and waggled her fingers to shoo him away. "So get on your way, then. Everything will be fine here."

  In the face of her calm logic, he could almost believe it would be.

  Abby had changed into jeans and an old T-shirt with the hem drawn up into a knot at her waist. That simple arrangement accented her full breasts and the sweet flare of her hips, and completely distracted him from.. .whatever it was he'd planned to do.

  "Thanks, Abby." He brushed a finger along her silky cheek. "I'm not sure who's getting the better end of our deal, but I think it's me."

  "As long as you believe that, then Belle and I still have a good home. Take care, Ethan." She turned to go, then pivoted back to face him, her eyes troubled.

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  "And do be careful. Okay? I agree with Keifer. Those woods scare me, too, sometimes. Especially when someone could be out there with a gun, who might not appreciate your stance on wolves."

  A couple of the men Ethan had visited on Saturday had been almost hostile about the county's wolf population. Most were philosophical, figuring that the state promptly paid the market value of any livestock lost, and with a higher population of natural predators, there'd be less deer to ravage crops.

  Just one—a retired man living in a small cabin with a collection of fishing rods leaning against his front porch—had given Ethan a good lead. The past few evenings Oliver had heard rifle fire south of the lake, and thought he'd seen two or three men from a distance.

  On Sunday afternoon, Ethan had searched the area and found cigarette butts, beer cans and some stray ammo on a knoll overlooking one of the Lunara pack's rendezvous sites, with bent grass showing signs of recent activity.

  Someone else had apparently settled in to watch the wolves, but not with any sort of scientific study in mind.

  Ethan had promptly reported in to Frank Carter— leaving a message on his answering machine—then he'd called the county sheriff, who had promised someone would look into it "early next week."

  Ethan swung wide through the timber south of the lake and found a perfect spot where he could keep an eye on the knoll. Well hidden by brush, he shook

  out a canvas ground cloth and pulled out his binoculars and a camera with a 300mm lens. And then he settled down to wait.

  Keifer eyed the clock on the fireplace mantel. Nine-thirty. Exactly three minutes past the last time he'd looked.

  He shifted uneasily in his chair. The dogs had been barking a lot tonight. Just a while ago, there'd been a distant rumble of thunder.

  And Dad wasn't back. Wouldn't he come back if he heard thunder? What if—

  "Your turn," Abby said, handing Keifer the dice with a wicked gleam in her eye. His marker was headed straight for Park Place and a hotel, and he almost wished he'd land right on it and go bankrupt.

  "Where do you think Dad is?"

  "Where he always goes. Out into the timber." She tilted her head and frowned. "Are you worried?"

  "It just seems like he should be back. What if it storms?"

  "Your dad can take care of himself. I'm sure he's keeping a close eye on the weather."

  "What if.. .1 mean, maybe we should go check on him."

  Abby laughed at that. A nice laugh, though. Warm and reassuring. "I understand how you feel, but cell phone reception is really sketchy out there, and you know what would happen? We 'd get lost. And then he'd come home and worry about us."

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  Rufus and Belle started barking again, and a shiver of fear crawled down his spine. "But what if Dad got hurt?"

  "That's a good question. He's usually gone for about four hours. So, we'd hope he was able to make a call. But if he was really late, we could call the sheriff. Then the sheriff would probably gather volunteers to search for him."

  But that could take hours. And in the meantime...

  It '11 be your fault if anything happens to your dad.

  Keifer hadn't said a word. He'd been too afraid. But now the weight of that decision felt like a ten-pound sandbag on his chest. That guy wouldn't have been trespassing if he didn't already have something bad in mind.

  And now Dad was out in the woods. Alone. With no idea that a stranger could be out there, wanting to cause trouble. And if anything happened to Dad, it would be Keifer's fault. / should have told. I should have told. I should have told.

  Keifer halfheartedly tossed the dice and nudged his marker forward four spaces. "I'm sorta tired. Can we do this later?"

  "No problem. We can leave the game set up right here." She reached over the game board and touched his forehead with the backs of her fingers. "You look a little flushed. Are you feeling okay?"

  "Uh-huh. I should go out and put the pups and Rufus in the shed before it gets dark, though."

  "Want me to help?"

  "Nali..." He thought fast. "I think I'll play with them for a while, first."

  Yawning, she stood and stretched. "I'll unload the dishwasher and then come outside, too. I'm going to miss those little dogs when they start finding new homes."

  An uneasy feeling prickled at the back of his neck as Keifer hurried out, wanting to clear the yard before Abby came. It was still light enough to see. He knew the trail, so he could probably find Dad without much trouble.

  He'd better not be too late.

  Ethan propped himself up on his elbows and lifted his binoculars to scan the terrain below. The narrow ravine between his location and the knoll would preclude any fast pursuit should his quarry show. Still, photographing someone with a rifle raised could be enough proof for the sheriff and DNR to take action...especially if the ammunition matched the necropsy findings on that yearling.

  Dusk was turning the landscape to monochromatic shades of gray and soon it would be too dark for even the 1000 ASA film he'd loaded. Maybe the poachers wouldn't even show.

  The sharp crack of a branch not twenty feet away jerked his attention to full-alert.

  Ethan held his breath. Brittle weeds rustled as two people came close enough for him to catch the tang of cheap beer and the smell of cigarette smoke.

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  "I swear, we're gonna get 'em tonight," one of the men promised. "Maybe even the whole pack."

  "I want one of them pelts for my TV room. I deserve one, after what they done."

  The first voice dr
opped to a whisper. "Shut up, or they won't come anywhere close."

  Ethan cautiously moved forward a few inches and watched the men stumble down the steep bank of the ravine, then scramble up the other side to the knoll. Bingo.

  Two of them. Big, hulking guys carrying rifles.

  God willing, they'd see nothing to shoot at tonight.

  They stretched out on the grass at the edge of the knoll and lowered their rifles in front of them. Ethan picked up his camera, zoomed in and clicked off a series of shots.

  Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

  Darkness was closing in now. He lifted the camera again and studied them through the telephoto lens. The bigger guy excitedly elbowed his companion. They slowly lifted their rifles.

  Ethan snapped more pictures in quick succession, then grabbed for the .22 rifle at his side and fired twice into the air.

  And prayed the wolves would scatter.

  Keifer shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. Dumb idea. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  What had he been thinking? The beam of his flashlight was fading. The moon had slipped into the

  clouds and the deep, dark woods seemed to be closing in on him from all sides. The path he thought he knew so well had ended in a thicket of brambles, so he must have taken a wrong turn. And now—how could he ever get back?

  He turned and tried to see where he'd been...and froze.

  From somewhere ahead he heard something crashing through the underbrush. The noise stopped, then started again. And this time, it sounded as though it was heading in his direction.

  He struggled to find his voice, but barely managed a croak. "D-dad?"

  But Dad hardly made a sound when he walked in the woods. His steps were soft and sure.

  His heart hammering against his ribs, he backed up. His heel caught on some sort of a branch and he sprawled over a tangle of downed limbs. His breath rasped in his throat as he scrambled to his feet and dove behind a tree.