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They’d all been restless last night and had finally dozed off at the end of Lily’s movie, but for some inexplicable reason they were all awake by six…their occasional arguments or bursts of laughter bringing energy and excitement to the apartment and making her laugh.
But Hubert would be waiting for the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. And then he’d be on his front porch when she came around the house, ready to complain about her latest Noise Infraction. Hubert, she thought grimly as she dried the final piece of silverware, needed a life.
“Now, we’ve got two choices,” she said as she wiped the last of the crumbs off the counter. “It’s beautiful outside, seventy degrees and sunny. We could stay here and watch old movies…or go out to the lake and feed the ducks the rest of these waffles.”
“Ducks?” Drew rolled his eyes. “We’re not little kids.”
“So then, how about feeding the ducks and then going on a hike?” Belatedly, Abby remembered Lily’s weak left leg, from a club foot that hadn’t been properly treated when she was in foster care. She thought up a fast excuse to avoid a long walk. “I’m too tired to walk very far, but we could follow Sapphire Lake and watch the Jet Skis and sailboats for a while.”
Tyler and Drew exchanged bored looks that revealed just how exciting that sounded. Then Drew gave Tyler’s shoulder a playful shove. Tyler bent to tackle him at the waist and they hit the floor, wrestling like a pile of puppies until Abby managed to call a halt.
“Monopoly? Scrabble?” Abby searched her memory for anything she’d liked at their ages, but without siblings or close friends, she’d spent most of her childhood between the pages of good books. “Cards?”
Drew dove in for a sneak attack on Tyler and they crashed against the sofa. It screeched against the hardwood floor.
“Stop!” she ordered. “Now.”
Chastened, they fell apart, breathing hard—and then Tyler punched Drew in the ribs and they were at it again.
“Grab your shoes. We’re leaving.” She thought fast. “I could use your advice, really. Do you guys know anything about pets?”
That got their attention.
“Why?” Tyler asked, dodging another feint by Drew.
Hubert’s broom handle began pounding an all too familiar rebuke.
“I, um, think I’ll be moving very soon.” Maybe sooner than I planned. “And I was thinking about checking out the animals at the shelter. Would you like to go there and help me look? We’ll need to hurry, though. I think they close at eleven on Saturdays.”
“Awesome!” Drew spun away and pulled his Nikes from the pile of shoes the kids had left at the door. “A big dog would be really cool. Like, a guard dog, or something.”
“Something cuddly,” Lily ventured, her eyes downcast. “With big brown eyes and lots of white fur.”
“Maybe a hedgehog.” Tyler grabbed his own shoes and jammed his feet into them. “You could even keep it in your pocket when you were at work.”
The image made Abby laugh out loud. “Interesting idea, sport. Now tell me how you’d get it out of your pocket!”
Given an interesting activity, the boys seemed to have forgotten their wrestling techniques. Abby breathed a sigh of relief. After an hour at the shelter and an hour or so at the lake, they could stop at that little malt shop in town for lunch.
With luck, she could find something else to entertain them until three, and then she could give them all back.
If she lasted that long.
How on earth did mothers survive day after day after day?
THE KIDS BOUNDED out of Abby’s car when she pulled to a stop at the animal shelter. She rested her palms at the top of the steering wheel and dropped her head against them for a moment, still reeling after Hubert’s announcement from his porch.
That’s it. Your phone jangles day and night. You come and go twenty-four hours a day and create a ruckus. Be out of here when your month’s rent is up July eighth. If you find another place sooner, I’ll gladly refund the difference.
He’d stalked back into his house but, Hubert-like, didn’t slam the door. He closed it quietly…with the finality of a judge passing sentence on a habitual felon.
She’d tried explaining the late-night calls from the hospital staff. The times she’d had to go back to the hospital for emergencies or to cover for a nurse who’d called in sick. The fact that the kids were just a one-time deal.
But to Hubert the explanations hadn’t mattered.
If she hadn’t been so aware of the stares of several neighbors watching from their porch swings and the curiosity of the three kids, she might have found it almost funny.
At a sharp rap on her car window she looked up to find three eager young faces plastered to the glass.
“Come on!” Drew urged. “They won’t let kids in there without an adult!”
Hurry, Tyler mouthed, as if she couldn’t hear through the door.
She got out of the car and took them into the shelter where the smell of pine disinfectant, dogs and cats assailed her nostrils.
An employee on the phone waved them on back. Down a short hall behind her, two rooms housed dogs and cats, and a third held a variety of small pets.
The boys headed straight for the door marked Dogs, while Lily veered off into the room at the left with a cat decal on the door.
Abby wavered, then bore to the right, figuring that the cats could scratch…but dogs had bigger teeth and she already knew the boys were impulsive.
Sure enough, Drew was on his knees in front of a giant black dog, his finger wiggling through the wire mesh. “Drew!”
He shot an unrepentant glance at her and went back to cajoling the dog to come closer.
“Drew,” Abby repeated, touching his shoulder. “We have no idea about that dog’s temperament. I want to give you back to your mother in one piece.”
He reluctantly pulled his hand back. “This is a really cool dog.”
Several cages down, Tyler had passed a pen of gamboling beagle mix puppies to crouch at a cage that appeared to be empty at first glance. “What did you find?”
He looked up at her, his eyes swimming with tears, then threaded his fingers through the mesh and whistled softly. “Here, boy. Come, on.”
At the back of the cage, a medium-size dog had pressed itself as far into the corner as it could. Possibly a springer-golden retriever mix, Abby guessed, given its dingy gold-and-white-spotted coat and the freckles.
Drew’s favorite glowed with good health, its coat and eyes gleaming. This poor fellow, with one bandaged leg, was covered in mats and burrs. His thin sides were heaving as if he’d just run a long way. Pneumonia, maybe?
“This is the saddest one here,” Tyler whispered. “This is the one you should take. He needs you.”
“He does look sad, but I can’t choose one just yet.” Abby rested her hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “I need to find a new place to stay—and there aren’t many options. I might not be able to find one that allows pets.”
“That almost happened when we moved here. We had to get permission before we could keep our dog Scout. Maybe you could ask?”
The dog in the corner lowered its head and painfully eased onto its belly to crawl forward a few inches. Its sad brown eyes were fastened on hers as it moved, and its timid approach drew her more than any of the bouncing, excited tail-wagging in the neighboring pens. “I wonder what happened to this one.”
At the sound of footsteps, Abby turned to see the attendant coming down the aisle. “Stray. She’s not doing too well, though.”
“So it’s a girl, then.”
“Yep. Looks like she had puppies a couple months ago, but no one has seen any sign of them. Maybe the owner found homes for them and just dumped her off in the country.”
Outrage burned Abby’s stomach. “That’s horrible.”
“The jerk probably figured it was cheaper than paying to have her spayed.” The middle-aged woman shrugged. “Happens all the time, and we end up with whatever survives. This one got hit. I’d guess she was out on some road, trying to follow her owner’s car after he dumped her.”
Abby’s stomach churned. “Someone who didn’t even care if she starved.”
“She’s still starving. Won’t eat. Barely drinks. I’d guess she’s homesick, in addition to her injuries.”
Sure enough, full pans of food and water in the pen appeared to be untouched.
“But she’ll find a good home, here. A second chance?”
The woman glanced briefly at Tyler, who was still staring at the dog. She shook her head. “People want young and healthy dogs. Outgoing, playful animals. This one’s so scared and nervous, we haven’t even been able to brush the knots out of her coat.”
The dog stopped at the center of the cage and rested its chin on the concrete between its outstretched front paws.
The pain and sadness in its huge brown eyes seemed to wrap around Abby’s heart. “I wish I could have a dog where I live now.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I just moved here, but I’ll be looking for another place to live. Do you think she’ll still be here at the end of the month?”
“There’ll be other dogs. Young, healthy, low-maintenance dogs.”
“And I work full-time, so a dog would be alone…”
“Then you should get a cat. Me? I prefer cats. No worries about letting them in and out.”
“But…” The pager vibrated at her hip. Abby looked down at the text message and sighed. “Hey, guys, we’ve got to go.”
“Aw, can’t we stay longer?” Drew had ventured to the other side of the aisle, where he’d started fondling the silky ears of a cocker. “Please?”
“I’ve got to get to the hospital.” Abby fingered the shoulder strap of her purse before meeting the woman’s eyes. “How much time?”
“Time? Oh, you mean for Belle.” The attendant lifted a page on the clipboard fastened to the front of the run. Her expression turned sympathetic. “Tomorrow, I’m afraid.”
“If I paid…” Abby hesitated, then plunged ahead despite the warning bells in her head. “Like a deposit, or something. Would that save her for a while?”
“We can’t do layaways, ma’am. The manager says its strictly cash and carry.”
“You can’t hold her? For just a while?”
“People walk out and forget to come back, leaving us wondering what to do.” The woman held out her hands, palms up. “We’ve had animals in limbo for months that way. Our budget is so tight we just can’t afford it.”
This clearly was not meant to be. Abby didn’t have a home herself, much less one for the sad creature staring up at her. There’d be vet bills—maybe huge ones. And the pager at her hip was buzzing again, so she had to leave now.
“How much does adoption cost?” Abby said as she herded the boys toward the door.
“Eighty, with spay, worming and shots. But, ma’am—”
“What if I pay that, plus her daily board until I can take her? I’d give you my phone number and come back every day to check on her. Deal?” Abby spied Lily studying a canary in the Small Pets room and motioned for her. “But right now, I’ve got an emergency at the hospital and I’ve got to leave.”
The woman frowned. “A rushed decision isn’t always a good one. Come back tomorrow morning and I’ll make sure she’s still here. Okay?”
“Perfect.” Abby handed her a business card, then followed the kids out the front door. “I’ll be back!”
“THE DOCTOR will be here in just a moment, Mr. Matthews,” murmured the ER nurse as she took his vitals.
Ethan winced and looked away when she lifted the edge of the blood-soaked bandage on his forearm. Keifer’s voice filtered down the hallway from the receptionist’s desk, where the woman had promised to keep an eye on him. “Where’s my dad? I want to see my dad!”
An indistinct voice responded and his son quieted, but Ethan knew this ordeal had to be terrifying for him.
Hell, the boy’s mother had just dropped him off last night for the summer, and at this very moment she was flying out of the country. And then on his very first morning here, the poor kid had seen his dad nearly lose an arm in the power-take-off mechanism of a grain auger.
The stuff of nightmares, surely, and the irony was almost as painful as Ethan’s injury.
He’d wanted the next three months to be a wonderful adventure. He only saw his son for part of each summer and on alternating holidays.
From the lobby area, Ethan heard kids arguing over something. He frowned, remembering the icy blonde who’d walked into the hospital just ahead of him with her three children.
She’d breezed through the lobby with an offhand, “Keep an eye on these three, Beth!” And then she’d disappeared down the hall.
Some people, like his ex-wife and that presumptuous blonde, certainly showed little interest in motherhood, far as he could tell.
A woman in a white lab coat with a stethoscope draped around her neck hurried into the room. “I’m Dr. Jill Edwards,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “I hear you had an argument with an auger.”
“It won. The painkiller is really starting to kick in, though.” Ethan rested his head against the paper-covered pillow on the gurney and regretted every moment of this day as Dr. Reynolds carefully unwrapped his haphazard bandaging.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “This is beyond the scope of a hospital this size, Mr. Matthews.”
Startled, he looked up at her as she gently cleansed the edges of the wounds and then firmly wrapped the arm again with clean bandaging. She nodded to a nurse, who quickly shoved an IV stand next to the other side of the bed and opened a package of IV supplies.
He winced when she placed the IV needle in his arm. “It’s only a few lacerations, right? You can sew them up?”
Dr. Edwards shook her head. “It’s more involved than that. You’ve lost a lot of blood and you stand a good chance of losing function of your hand—or worse—if this isn’t done right. I’m referring you to an excellent surgeon in Green Bay.”
Ethan closed his eyes as the deadline he had to meet and the activities he’d planned for Keifer all went up in smoke. “That isn’t necessary. Hell, last year I needed thirty stitches when a bull took after me. Doc Olson stitched it up in his office and it healed good as new.”
“The tendons and nerves are involved, and the wound is badly contaminated.” The doctor nodded curtly to the nurse, who moved to an intercom on the wall and instructed someone to make arrangements for transport and admission to a hospital in Green Bay. “You need this taken care of as soon as possible.”
“I…can’t do it.”
“Mr. Matthews—”
“No. I have my son with me for the summer. I don’t have relatives here, and there’s no one else to take care of him.”
Removing her gloves, Dr. Reynolds murmured something to the nurse, then she turned back to him and lifted the rail on his gurney. “We’re going to find someone to help you out, so don’t worry.”
“If…if I do go, that would just be an outpatient deal, right? Back here today?”
“Maybe. And perhaps you could come here for follow-up care.”
“Follow-up?”
“If you should need IV antibiotics and dressing changes.” She looked over her shoulder. “Ah, here you go. I need to check on someone else, but I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Someone slipped into the exam room just out of Ethan’s visual range and spoke quietly to the doctor, then moved to his bedside.
It was the blonde who’d, like the Queen of England, so casually dumped her kids on the overworked receptionist. “I’m Abby Cahill, the director of nursing. I understand there’s a problem?”
He was starting to feel woozy, now that the pain meds were hitting his system, but he wasn’t too out of it to catch her patronizing tone. “I just need to take care of this here and get home. In fact, I could probably just leave right now.” He started to sit up, but she gently pushed him back down. “If I keep it bandaged—”
“Mr. Matthews!” She blew out an exasperated sigh. “I really don’t believe you’re thinking clearly right now. Do you realize how serious this is?”
First patronizing, now insulting. He felt his blood pressure kick up another notch. “I can’t go to Green Bay. What about my son? Keifer must be terrified.”
“Beth is entertaining him,” Abby said quietly. “As for you, the helicopter should be here in fifteen minutes. When it arrives, you need to get on it.”
He swore under his breath as the room began to spin. “You don’t understand. He’s only ten, and—”
“He’ll be fine. I’m sure the hospital social worker can handle this.”
He bristled at her nonchalance. “I—I will not pawn him off on a total stranger.”
“Mr. Matthews—”
“This is…the first time I’ve had him for an entire summer. I don’t know any child-care people. But—” he gripped the rails of the gurney as his stomach started to pitch “—that…doesn’t mean I’ll let him go with just anybody.”
“Our social worker is very trustworthy. I’m sure she knows some good families—people who work here at the hospital, even.” Abby nodded decisively and headed for the door. “We’ll get Linda in here right now, and see what we can come up with.”
Abby was back in five minutes with a bony, middle-aged woman who looked about as comforting as a truant officer. “This is Mrs. Groden.”
Frowning, the woman stepped to his bedside. “Our local foster families are full right now, but I’ll certainly find a place for your son if you’re admitted in Green Bay.”
“Overnight? No way.”
“Rest assured—”
“Dammit, no. How assured will Keifer feel, with someone we’ve never even met?” He tried to shake off the nurse who’d started taking his blood pressure again, but she clucked impatiently and he gave in.
“All right, then,” Abby said. “You’ve met me, at least. I can keep him for the rest of the day. Overnight, if need be.”
Not on a bet. He’d already seen her in action with those rowdy kids of hers, and he wasn’t impressed. “I think…you have your hands full.”
She glanced impatiently at the clock. “I’ll just be here for an hour or so, until we can bring in a nurse to cover second shift. Your son will be safe with me until you get back. Scout’s honor.”
“No.” But his head was spinning in earnest now and his stomach was queasy. And, Lord help him, both Ms. Iceberg and her skinny social worker were starting to look just a little like angels with fuzzy halos above their heads.
“I am a nurse, Mr. Matthews.” Abby’s voice came from far away. “I’ll care for him as if he was my own.”
“I’d volunteer, but I’m on call all night.” The doctor’s voice floated by. “Abby’s an old friend of our hospital administrator and has taught nursing for many years. I assure you, your son couldn’t be in better hands.”
Ethan swallowed hard, fighting the inevitable. Then reached out blindly with his good arm for the plastic basin on the metal table next to his gurney.
Abby was there in an instant, one arm supporting his shoulders, the basin in position, and murmuring some sort of comforting words that barely registered as he threw up.
Minutes passed before he could find his voice. And he knew, finally, that he had to give in when the doc took another look at his arm and shook her head.
There was no way he could drive home.
“The Life Flight copter is just a few minutes out, Mr. Matthews,” Abby said. “We need to get you ready for transport.”
“M-my keys.” He fumbled at his side with his good hand and found the truck keys in his jeans’ pocket. “Two miles…out of town. Right on the church road…ten, eleven miles to the old corn crib and north past the Peters place. K-Keifer…knows.”
And then the light in the room faded and darkness enveloped him as he listened to the soft murmur of voices too distant to hear.
CHAPTER THREE
KEIFER KNOWS, Matthews had said as he’d awkwardly tossed Abby his set of keys.
The boy knew what? How to get home? Knew about something that had to be done?
His father had certainly had quite a reaction to the Demerol…first exhibiting drowsiness and dizziness, then signs of respiratory depression. Coupled with his nausea, he’d been one sick puppy.
During her years in nursing Abby had rarely seen that level of response.
And now Abby was facing his son—a boy masking his obvious fear and confusion with a veneer of arrogance—who really, really didn’t think he wanted to go with her, anywhere.
Pale and slender with close-cropped strawberry-blond hair and a dusting of freckles over his upturned nose, she wanted to reassure him with a hug. Fat chance.
The difference between him and the rowdy Reynolds boys—who’d gone home with their mother an hour ago—was night and day. The Reynolds were exuberant, mischievous, with a penchant for noise and trouble. This boy sat glaring silently at her as if she planned to kidnap him and sell him into child slavery.
It wasn’t a surprise, though. Keifer had only seen his dad for a few minutes before the helicopter left, and the man had been ghost-pale and too groggy to make any sense. That alone must have been scary.
“Honey, your dad just had a little reaction to the pain medicine,” Abby said gently. “He needs to have those cuts fixed on his arm, and then he’ll probably be back here tomorrow. If they want to keep him longer, I’ll take you up there to see him, okay?”
Keifer didn’t quite meet her eyes, and his mumbled response might have been a yes or no.
“In the meantime, I told your dad I’d take care of you. I’d been thinking that you could just come home with me, but he gave me directions to his place. Do we need to go there?”
Keifer’s chin jerked up and he gave her a level, challenging stare. “Chores.”
“Like, dogs maybe? Cats?” The boy didn’t answer, but feeding and watering a few pets wouldn’t be hard. She took Ethan’s keys out of the pocket of her lab jacket. “What time of day does he do these chores?”
“All day.”
“You mean, several times a day?” Abby looked up at the clock. “I imagine he took care of everything earlier this morning. We could go out now and get it done, then get back to town for a late supper.”
That earned her a derisive glance, but at least the kid followed her out to her car. He surveyed the vehicle with a dubious expression before hiking a thumb toward a battered pickup with big, big tires and a hydraulic winch mounted on the grill. “You should take Dad’s.”
It looked huge. It probably had a standard transmission. And driving it, she suspected, would be like maneuvering a bulldozer. “My car will be fine. Hop in.”
Keifer slumped in his seat, glued to the door, and folded his arms over his chest. She finally gave up trying to engage him in conversation when she turned off the main highway onto a loose gravel lane through stands of pine and hardwoods.
Heavy gray dust boiled up behind the car during the endless miles to the corn crib Ethan had mentioned…which, she hoped, was that small structure just ahead. Tipping drunkenly into a maple tree, it could have just been an old shed.
A dirt road veered off into the trees a dozen yards past the rickety building, but there were no street signs or mailboxes anywhere. In fact, she hadn’t seen signs of life for the past five miles.
“Okay, sport,” she said after stopping the car. “Is this where we turn?”
Keifer slumped lower in his seat. “Maybe.”
“We’ve come the right way so far?”
He craned his neck to peer out the window and shrugged.
“You’ve never been here?” Surprised, she turned to look at him.
“It was dark when I got here last night,” he said defensively. “And we were going the other direction this morning. I don’t remember from last year.”
Last year? What kind of dad only saw his son once a year? Her opinion of Ethan Matthews dropped. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” She drummed her fingernails on the steering wheel, considering. “What do you think—should we take a chance on this little road?”
“I guess. I just remember it was kinda muddy.”
A description that fit the farm lane quite well from what she could see after they made the turn. Leaning forward to see ahead better, she negotiated the ruts and bumps of the first mile, then breathed a sigh of relief as the road started to climb.