Temporary Fiancée by Judy Rogers

pain pill. His leg really was killing him.

Chapter Eight
    As Haley left the bedroom, Carrie’s voice called up from the bottom of the stairway, “Delphine’s mother is here to get her.”
    Haley leaned over the railing. “Tell her I’ll be down in a minute.”
    Carrie nodded then turned and raced back to the living room yelling, “She’ll be down in a minute.”
    “Delphine’s out in the yard. I’d better get her. Phyllis will probably want to leave right away.”
    Because Haley’s usually expressive face was carefully neutral, Rand knew she was unhappy about the dog leaving. He, on the other hand, was ecstatic, and in a fit of gallantry said, “I’ll talk to her while you round up the dog.”
    Haley nodded, and Rand had sudden misgivings when he saw the glint of mischief in her eyes. “Is there something I should know about Delphine’s mother?” he asked suspiciously.
    “Nope,” Haley said, refusing to look at him as she bounced down the stairs two at a time.
    Rand followed, leaning heavily on his cane. He’d spent too much time on his ankle the day before and now it ached like a bitch. He could hear Angela’s agitated voice before he made it to the bottom of the stairs.
    “She did attack me,” Angela insisted.
    “You must be mistaken, dear,” a soothing voice replied. “Delphine was in the throes of a deep depression when I left her with Haley. She barely has the energy to even eat when she’s like that.”
    Rand grinned to himself. Delphine’s owner sounded as defensive as Haley.
    “That’s ridiculous,” Angela snapped. “Your dog is a menace, and as you can see, my fiancé has a small child on the premises. Please take your animal now. I’ll explain to Rand.”
    Rand frowned at the reference to their engagement. His ex-fiancée had no qualms about twisting the truth to get whatever results she wanted.
    “I would like to see Haley before I leave,” the other woman insisted.
    “Haley’s in Uncle Rand’s room,” Carrie’s voice piped up. “She slept there last night.”
    Rand groaned, wondering if there was a way to teach a five-year-old to be circumspect. As he finally turned the corner into the living room, he stopped, stunned by the apparition in front of him—it had to be Delphine’s mother.
    A wild kaleidoscope of colors enveloped her tiny frame in what looked like a tied-dyed Indian sari. Large hoop earrings stood out on either side of her face like handles on a loving cup. Her long white hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head in a loose knot and strands drifted delicately down the sides of her face and neck. Her fingers, each one adorned with multicolored rings, moved in some sort of manic hand ballet.
    Although she retained remnants of great beauty, she was obviously as nutty as a fruitcake. Rand sighed. He was willing to bet there wasn’t one normal person in Haley’s entourage of friends.
    The woman finally noticed him hovering in the doorway and stopped waving her hands. For a long moment, she stared at him in clear-eyed assessment. Rand was forced to revise his opinion. Eccentric maybe, but certainly not out of touch with reality.
    With a regal grace that would have done honor to a member of the royal family, she glided toward him and held out her hand. “Good morning, Andrew McNeil. I am Phyllis Riddick, Delphine’s owner and mentor.”
    Rand raised his eyebrows. “Mentor?”
    Phyllis nodded emphatically. “In her previous life, Delphine was a sixth level Italian Duchess, which is why she is so given to emotional upheavals. I am responsible to see that this life will be more satisfying for her.”
    Rand blinked and nodded, again revising his opinion in favor of benevolent insanity, “Yes, well, Haley will bring the duchess to you in a minute.”
    The misty other-world look in her eyes cleared, and she again regarded him with her strange unblinking stare. “Haley is a particular friend of mine, I would hate for unhappiness of any kind to cloud her