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A Temporary Arrangement
Roxanne Rustand
Much more than she bargained for…All Abby Cahill wanted was a quiet summer job in the beautiful Wisconsin woods. But the hospital where she' s filling in turns out to be overcrowded, understaffed and decidedly stretched for cash. And as if she didn' t have enough on her hands, the only vacancy in town for " single woman with mutt" is at the farmhouse of wildlife biologist Ethan Matthews, whose son is with him for the season, along with several newborn puppies.Ethan is a handsome, solitary man who seems to need Abby as much as she needs… Problem is, she' ll never find out what she needs. At the end of August she' s got to go back to her job in the city teaching nursing. And leave this temporary arrangement, which is starting to feel too darn comfortable. For all three of them.
He was silent for a long moment
Abby had the oddest feeling he was assessing her—truly looking at her—for the first time. “Go on, get inside,” he finally said.
“Thanks, Ethan. For this place…for the groceries. And for taking care of my dog. I definitely owe you.”
Inside the cabin she locked the door and leaned against it, wondering if the past few minutes had just been in her imagination.
Ethan didn’t really want her here. She was at his ranch only to help with meals and stay with his boy, Keifer, when Ethan went off on his late-evening research jaunts.
Which was fine. She had a great job waiting for her in California and she certainly wasn’t interested in any casual short-term flings.
Especially not with Ethan Matthews.
Dear Reader,
Writing the BLACKBERRY HILL MEMORIAL series has been such fun! Northern Wisconsin must be one of the loveliest places on earth, especially in the fall, when the leaves of the hardwoods are afire with brilliant color, in contrast to the dark green pines and sparkling, sapphire lakes. Author Lyn Cote lives on one of those stunning lakes, and visiting her and her husband each fall is an annual delight. She and I must hit every bookstore, garage sale and resale shop in the county…and I don’t even want to guess at all the calories we consume! Those Wisconsin visits were the inspiration for this series.
In A Temporary Arrangement, Blackberry Hill Memorial is facing the challenges common to many small-town hospitals, but there are darker problems in this idyllic place—hidden threats that jeopardize the future of the new director of nursing. And for a wildlife biologist who spends most of his time alone, threats come in the form of someone clearly bent on revenge and a lovely newcomer who just may steal his heart.
If you’ve missed the other two BLACKBERRY HILL MEMORIAL stories, Almost a Family and A Man She Can Trust, check for them at www.eHarlequin.com.
I love hearing from readers, and can be contacted at R. Rustand@juno.com or Box 2550, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 52406-2550, or at my Web sites, www.roxannerustand.com and www.booksbyrustand.com. You can find a free, downloadable cookbook at the first Web site, along with a contest, reviews and more. If you send a SASE to the P.O. box, I’ll be happy to send you some bookmarks.
Wishing you the best for your own happily ever after!
Roxanne Rustand
A Temporary Arrangement
Roxanne Rustand
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Roxanne Rustand’s love of romance began when a friend gave her a wonderful novel and dared her to put it down. She did—at four o’clock the next morning. Completely hooked, she read romance for several years before starting to write one of her own. Roxanne is a registered dietitian with a master’s degree in nutrition, and works at a residential psychiatric facility. As a wife and mother of three, she tries hard to balance family, career and writing commitments…. even when it means retreating to a hotel for the weekend to meet her deadlines.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With many thanks to my dear friend, author Lyn Cote, and her husband, Steve, for their hospitality during our wonderful “writers’ retreat weekends” in northern Wisconsin. And to Diane, Jacquie and Pamela for your invaluable friendship and support.
I feel so very blessed to know you all.
This one is for you, Emily, with thanks for all the wonderful treats and lunches and suppers you made while I was locked away in my office. You’re the sweetest daughter ever!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER ONE
ABBY CAHILL breathed in the crisp, pine-scented air, then stepped inside Blackberry Hill Memorial Hospital to start a new chapter in her life.
The retiring director of nursing, Grace Fisher-Edwards, met her inside the door with a broad smile. “I was afraid the tourist traffic would slow you down, but you’re right on time.” She ushered Abby down the hall to her office. “June can be a real bear around here.”
Abby laughed. “On par with five o’clock rush hour in Detroit, except the scenery is much, much prettier.”
“If you can see past the vehicles, that is.” Grace snorted as she settled behind her cluttered desk and shifted a stack of files to one side. “During the summer, our population triples.”
“And I think every last one of those tourists is on Main right now.” Grinning, Abby searched through her shoulder bag for her notebook and a pen. “I sure wish I could’ve come a few days earlier, but our nursing students’ graduation was on Saturday and then I still had to pack.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“No…though I do look forward to settling into my new place.” Abby sat back in her chair and uncapped her pen.
Grace’s eyes filled with concern. “I gather you haven’t stopped by the Hawthorne Apartments.”
“Not yet.” Abby flipped open the notebook, her pen poised over its pristine surface. “Meeting with you was my biggest priority, believe me.”
“The manager tried to call you yesterday. He even called the hospital, hoping Erin or I would know how to reach you.”
Abby stilled. “My home phone was disconnected yesterday morning, and I have a new cell. But there shouldn’t be a problem—I’ve signed a lease.”
“There was a fire over the weekend.”
“Oh, my,” Abby said faintly. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, but half your building was gutted, leaving seven families homeless…and now you, I guess.” Grace pushed a piece of paper across the desk. “I’ve done some checking, but there aren’t many apartments in this area. I’m afraid those displaced renters have already taken what little there was.”
“I’m glad I left most of my things in storage for the summer.” Abby considered the situation for a moment. “Maybe I can find a cabin to rent. Or even a motel, until the apartment building’s livable.”
“I’m not sure it ever will be.” Grace worried her lower lip. “We’ve heard rumors for years about the owner wanting to raze the entire complex so he can put up fancy condos.”
Dread settled in the pit of Abby’s stomach. “What are my options?”
“Even vacation lodging is hard to come by during the tourist season. Most places are reserved months ahead. But I did find a few possibilities.” Grace’s dubious expression didn’t bode well. “And you’re sure welcome to stay with Warren and me. We leave on our wedding trip in the morning, but you could stay on through tomorrow night.”
“You two just got married—what?—this past weekend. I’d hate to move in on you.” The pink tinging Grace’s cheeks made Abby smile. “Especially with you getting ready to leave.”
“I wish I could offer you more, but my house has been sold and the contractors start on Warren’s place Thursday morning. Once they tear up the plumbing and old wiring, I’m afraid it won’t be habitable until they finish in July.”
“Please, don’t even give it a thought. I’m only here for a few months, so I can make do with just about anything.”
She scanned Grace’s list. A motel along the lake with weekly rates. Several small resorts with cabins. A furnished house for rent.
But the bigger issue was her new job and the fact that Grace—the person best suited to groom her temporary successor—was leaving town tomorrow.
“I’d rather spend as much time as I can with you. I can figure out my housing problems later.”
“Are you sure?” Grace sounded doubtful. “With your background, you should have no difficulty taking over. Erin tells me you were a top student when you two were in training together. And your article in the Journal of Hospital Nursing last year was amazing.”
“Psychology of Patient Care in the Low Income Setting” represented three years of research and had taken her at least sixteen drafts. Reprints were now required reading in several nursing programs across the United States and would be included in a college textbook released next spring.
But that article—and the others she’d written—provided no more practical knowledge on running a nursing department than Wuthering Heights.
“As you know, it’s been a while since I worked in a hospital.” Abby managed a light laugh. “I may have been teaching nursing for years, but I’m going to need every bit of advice you can offer.”
“And I’ll be glad to give it. But first, I really think you’d better take a few hours to look for a place to stay.” Grace glanced at her watch. “Come back at, say, four o’clock?”
“But my orientation—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll still be here when you get back and we can stay as late as we need to.” Tapping the files on her desk, Grace gave her a grandmotherly smile. “Last month, we revised the facility-wide policy and procedure manuals, and they’ll explain every last detail of running this place. Coupled with the files I’ve pulled together for you, you’ll have everything you need to know.”
Updated policy and procedure manuals. Complete files. The words were a balm to Abby’s left-brained soul. She felt the tension in her shoulders ease. “Sounds like this should be a smooth transition, then. Thanks.”
“Everyone is looking forward to having you here.” The hint of admiration in Grace’s voice was unmistakable. “And though you’ll only be here for a short while, I know you’ll be a great asset.”
Three months, to be precise, until the new permanent director of nursing arrived. Surely she could handle a small, quiet hospital like this one for three months, and the experience would be perfect research for her next article.
Abby smiled. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to enjoying the slower pace up here.”
“Slower pace?” Grace repeated, a faint, enigmatic smile on her lips. “I think we’ll have a lot to discuss before this day is over.”
AFTER TWO HOURS of fruitless searching, Abby realized just how right Grace had been about this busy resort town.
It had all seemed so simple while she was packing. After the graduation ceremony, a formal tea at her mother’s Rosewood Lakes estate and a quiet farewell gathering at her father’s country club, she’d savored every moment of the beautiful drive north to the quaint Wisconsin town of Blackberry Hill.
She hadn’t been prepared for the bumper-to-propeller traffic during the final two hours of the trip or the crowds attending the Blackberry Hill Arts Festival. Not to mention there wasn’t a single place to stay within fifty miles.
Every possibility on Grace’s list was filled, along with three others she’d found in the local newspaper.
Scooping her hair away from her damp forehead, she tugged at the collar of her limp cotton blouse and knocked on the door of her last resort: an old house with a sagging front porch at the end of Bailey Street.
A minute later the door swung open to reveal a bony and bent eighty-something man with a scowl on his face.
“I’m not buying anything,” he snapped.
“I’m here about the room,” she said as he started to close the door. “Please—is it still available?”
The man in front of her was as charming as his advertisement.
She’d seen the scrawled note tacked to the bulletin board of the grocery store downtown, hidden beneath a flyer advertising Lawn Care—Good Rates.
Efficiency available by the month. Private entrance. No smoking. No drinking. No guests of the opposite sex. No pets. No noise. One month rent deposit. Hubert L. Bickham, 234 Bailey Street.
Hubert L. Bickham’s scowl deepened as he studied her from head to foot with narrowed eyes. “I don’t allow any hanky-panky. No trouble.” He jerked a thumb toward the side of the house, where she’d seen exterior stairs leading to the second floor of the small one-and-a-half-story house. “Those stairs go right past my bedroom, and any noise wakes me up. So no tromping up them stairs at all hours, missy.”
Despite the heat, the frustration and her need to get back to the hospital, Abby had to struggle to keep a straight face.
No one had ever accused her of leading a wild life. And right now, with her hair curly as Medusa’s in the humidity, this old guy imagined she could find someone to get wild with.
She held up her hand in a Scout salute. “I swear.”
