The Family Plan

by Gina Wilkins

  Because she did sympathize, she said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  He seemed to have a little trouble following her transition. “You’ll do what?”

  “I’ll stay with Isabelle tomorrow morning while you talk to your mother. What time do you want me here?”

  She could hear the relief in his voice when he replied. “Most of the stores open at ten, don’t they? You can pick her up just before then and let her pick out some decorations for her room. Anything she wants to make her feel at home here. You can put it on the company card and I’ll pay when the bill comes in.”

  “Maybe you’ll want to hold off on redecorating until after you talk to your mother.”

  He read her unspoken subtext easily enough. “You think I’ll change my mind about keeping her after I talk to my mother?”

  Caitlin knew Lenore would do her best to talk her son out of this plan. Could he really withstand her tears, her accusations of betrayal, her pleas and threats? “I just think it might be a good idea if you—”

  “No matter what my mother says, I’m not changing my mind about Isabelle,” Nathan insisted stubbornly. “I’ve already anticipated everything she could possibly say, even if she refuses to ever speak to me again. I would regret that, of course—hell, it would break my heart. But Mom would still have Gideon and Deborah. Isabelle only has me.”

  It seemed that there would be nothing anyone could say to change Nathan’s mind about this. Having spent the past couple of hours watching him with his little sister, Caitlin realized that their bond was already too strong to be broken by warnings or threats.

  She looked at his determined expression with a touch of awe, realizing that she’d underestimated him. She’d never realized quite how forceful he could be. And she hadn’t expected him to be so courageously self-sacrificing—for any reason. There was a great deal more to Nathan McCloud than he had allowed her to see during the past nine months—maybe more than he allowed anyone else to see, even those who were closest to him.

  “All right. I’ll pick her up at ten in the morning,” she said, committing herself to taking his side in the coming controversy and hoping she didn’t regret that decision. “But I warn you,” she added in an attempt to lighten the mood, “it’s dangerous to send two women shopping with your credit card and no budget.”

  She was pleased when he gave her a semblance of his enticingly lopsided smile. “So I’ll sell my golf clubs, if necessary. I have a feeling I won’t be needing them as much for the next, oh, fifteen years or so.”

  Hard to believe he could keep smiling when he said that. Caitlin swallowed. “I’ll try not to go quite that crazy.”

  “Buy her whatever she wants.”

  Caitlin frowned at him. “You aren’t going to spoil her, are you? You’ve seen in court what happens when children are overindulged. It ruins them for life, teaches them to expect everyone to give in to their expectations.”

  “I’ll try not to spoil her,” he promised, smiling more broadly as he raised one hand in a mock vow. “Just buy whatever she needs to turn this into a nice room. I want to make a good home for her here.”

  Because the sentiment touched her, even though she was trying her best to retain an emotional distance from this entire situation, she looked away from him and spoke brusquely. “If there’s nothing else you need this evening, I’d better head home now. I have a stack of paperwork in my car I need to go through tonight, especially if I’m going to be free for a shopping excursion in the morning.”

  “Did anything come up at work I should know about?”

  “Several things,” she replied, thinking of the medical malpractice case she would be working on most of the night. She would have to discuss that with him, of course, but it could wait a few hours. “We’ll talk about them later this weekend.”

  He followed her to the front door. “Irene was giving me some pretty deadly looks before she left the office earlier. I got the impression she was only being passably courteous because Isabelle was with me, which I could tell was making her crazy with curiosity.”

  “She doesn’t know yet that you’ve taken Isabelle as your ward. I didn’t tell her why you were in California, only that you were tending to personal business. She probably thinks Isabelle is visiting you for a few days or something. She’ll understand better when you explain the situation to her.”

  “So she thinks I was in California spending a week at Disneyland while you were carrying the load here?”

  “Maybe something like that,” Caitlin conceded. “It wasn’t my place to discuss your personal business with her, of course.”

  “Nice to know our office manager has such a high opinion of me,” he grumbled.

  “Well, you haven’t done much to change that opinion,” she reminded him. “You either clam up or bolt—or both—whenever she’s around. And you have to admit you play havoc with her schedules and routines. You know how obsessive she is about that sort of thing.”

  “Do I ever,” he muttered. “Wonder what she’s going to say when I tell her I’ve taken in a three-year-old? She’ll probably think I should be committed. I’m quite sure she’ll think I’m completely unqualified to raise a child, considering her low opinion of me.”

  Because Caitlin still wasn’t quite convinced, herself, that Nathan had made the right decision, she decided not to comment.

  Nathan covered the doorknob with his hand when she reached for it, detaining her for a moment. He was standing so close to her that his arm brushed hers when he turned to face her. His expression was serious again, and his gaze held hers when he spoke. “Before you leave, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me tonight.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. “I was happy to give you a hand.”

  “Don’t brush me off. I mean it, Caitlin. I really needed your help this evening—and your company. Bringing Isabelle home alone…well, that was pretty scary for me. Having you here for moral support, even when you were questioning my sanity, meant a great deal to me.”

  She became even more aware of how very close he stood. Their faces were only inches apart.

  The intimacy of their proximity—and maybe something about the way he was looking at her—made her stomach muscles tighten. “That’s the sort of thing business partners do for each other,” she said inanely.

  He smiled then. “No. That’s what friends do for each other,” he corrected. “Thank you for being my friend tonight, Caitlin.”

  Maybe he intended the kiss he gave her to be nothing more than a friendly peck on the cheek. His lips were warm when he pressed them against her cool skin, just to the right of her mouth. So close to her mouth that their lips almost, but not quite, touched. And the temptation to turn her head just that small amount was suddenly so strong that she jerked backward as though his touch had burned her.

  Stumbling awkwardly, her face flaming, she fumbled for the doorknob. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

  He moved out of the way so she could make her escape, though she felt him watching her. She felt like a fool as she all but fell out the front door. She didn’t look back when she jumped into her car and drove away, but she had the feeling that Nathan watched her until she was out of his sight.

  He was probably wondering what the heck had gotten into her. She wondered about that herself. It had only been a friendly kiss on the cheek, after all.

  It had to be the very long, stressful week getting to her, she figured, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles ached. That, combined with the shock of discovering that her partner had suddenly become a single dad, had made her jumpier than usual. Prone to overreaction.

  Maybe she had fantasized a few times in the past nine months about what it might be like to kiss her sexy partner, but that had nothing to do with her reaction tonight.

  At least, that was what she told herself as she drove a bit too quickly away from his house.

  “Purple’s my favorite color, Nate. Can I have a
purple bedspread?”

  “Poppet, you can have any color bedspread your little heart desires, but if you don’t hurry and finish your oatmeal, you won’t be ready when Miss Caitlin comes to pick you up.”

  Isabelle dutifully spooned another bite of oatmeal into her mouth. “Why can’t you go shopping with us?” she asked as soon as she had swallowed.

  “I told you, there’s something I have to do this morning. I’ll help you fix up your room this afternoon with all the pretty things you and Miss Caitlin buy, okay?”

  She squirmed on her stack of law books. “Okay.”

  Nathan added “booster seat” to the list he had been writing out while Isabelle ate her breakfast. He was fully aware of the magnitude of the favor Caitlin was doing for him today. He made a mental vow that not only would he never impose on her like this again, he would find some way to repay her.

  He wanted to get their relationship back on an even footing. Only then could they evaluate what might develop between them in the future—whether it would ever be more than a business partnership or a casual friendship. Obviously, his own circumstances had changed dramatically.

  The catalyst of all that change pushed her oatmeal bowl away and squirmed again on the books. “I’m full now.”

  He set his pen on the pad. “I guess you’d better get dressed, then.”

  “I didn’t get my bath last night ’cause I was so sleepy. Do I take it now?”

  Bath? Nathan cleared his throat. “Uh, can you do that yourself?”

  Isabelle looked indignant. “I’m almost four,” she reminded him. “I can take a bath.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “But I can’t wash my hair.”

  Oh, man. Reminding himself that he’d known what he was getting himself into when he’d asked Alan Curtis to help him get guardianship of his sister, Nathan nodded. “Okay, you take your bath, then I’ll help you wash your hair. We’d better hurry, though. Caitlin will be here in an hour.”

  “Miss Caitlin,” she corrected him as she climbed down from her chair.

  He chuckled. “Miss Caitlin.”

  Isabelle wasn’t ready when Caitlin arrived. Her hair was still damp and she was dressed only in panties and a purple terry cloth robe.

  The bath had taken longer than Nathan expected, and he needed a bit more practice at hair washing before he considered himself proficient at the task. He’d had trouble getting the shampoo out of Isabelle’s hair without getting it in her eyes. Since then he had been trying to detangle and dry her fine blond hair.

  He groaned when the doorbell chimed.

  “That’s dry enough,” he decided, setting the blow dryer aside. “Run get dressed while I let Miss Caitlin in. And try to hurry, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll hurry.” She ran full speed toward her bedroom. They had already selected an outfit for the day. It was lying on the bed, ready for her to pull on. Nathan figured she could dress without his assistance.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to open the door,” Caitlin said when he finally made it to the living room.

  Moving aside to let her in, he smiled wryly. “It may take a few days to develop a morning routine here. Isabelle’s almost ready.”

  “Problems?”

  “No. We’re just running a little behind.”

  Isabelle entered the room then, her hair tousled around her face, her feet still bare. She had donned her red and white shirt and navy pants, but she carried her socks and shoes in her hands. “I need a little help.”

  She was such a bright, articulate child that Nathan tended to forget at times how young she was. She was still little more than a baby, really, and her tiny fingers hadn’t quite caught up with her clever mind.

  He picked her up and set her into a chair, kneeling in front of her. “Okay, Cinderella, let’s see if these slippers fit.”

  Isabelle giggled. “They aren’t slippers. They’re sneakers.”

  “That’s okay, honey. He isn’t really Prince Charming, either,” Caitlin murmured.

  Nathan gave her a look over his shoulder. “No comments from the wicked witch, please.”

  Isabelle laughed again. “There wasn’t a wicked witch in Cinderella, Nate. It was a wicked stepmother.”

  “Oh.” He kept his eyes on the tiny foot he was stuffing into a white cotton sock, and decided not to pursue that particular story line. “Well, what story was the wicked witch in?”

  “Sleeping Beauty. And Snow White. And the Wizard of Oz. But not Cinderella.”

  He managed to work her foot into a sneaker. “Wow. That was one busy witch.”

  “They weren’t all the same witch, Nate. They were different witches.”

  “Oh. I see I’m going to have to brush up on my fairy tales.”

  “I suppose Nathan told you our plans for this morning?” Caitlin asked Isabelle.

  The child nodded. “We’re going shopping for a room.”

  That made Caitlin smile. “Not a whole room, exactly. Just the things we need to make your room prettier. Is it okay with you if I take you?”

  “Do you like purple?”

  “I love purple,” Caitlin assured her.

  Isabelle dimpled and wiggled her now-shod feet. “Then it’s okay.”

  Caitlin reached down to brush a stray lock of hair from Isabelle’s face. “Maybe we should brush your hair first? Do you have a barrette or a ponytail holder we can use to hold it back?”

  “I’ll be right back.” Isabelle turned and ran toward her bedroom.

  “She seems to have two speeds,” Nathan commented. “Very fast and very slow. She’s been in slow speed all morning, which is why her hair isn’t done.”

  Caitlin eyed him quizzically. “You were going to do her hair?”

  “I’ve got to learn how,” he said with a shrug. “I figure it can’t be too hard to learn how to do a basic ponytail or braid or something.”

  She paused a moment, then asked, “Have you called your mother yet to tell her you want to talk to her?”

  “Not yet. I thought I’d call as soon as you leave. She’ll be home. She’s always home on Saturday mornings. That’s when she does her housework.”

  “You can’t be looking forward to this.”

  Major understatement. He decided to let it pass.

  Isabelle returned clutching a hairbrush and a barrette with a red fabric bow attached. Her stuffed white owl was tucked beneath her arm. “Will this bow work? And can Hedwig come with us?”

  Caitlin replied, “The bow is just right. And is Hedwig your owl’s name?”

  Isabelle nodded. “From Harry Potter. Aunt Barb read the books to me. And I’ve seen the movie a bunch of times. It’s got a scary part, but I like the owls.”

  “You like books, Isabelle?” Caitlin asked as she carefully brushed the child’s silky hair back at the top. Nathan watched closely, hoping he could replicate the style.

  Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, making her hair tumble out of Caitlin’s hands before she could secure it with the barrette. “Oh, sorry. I like books. I can read a little.”

  “Really?” Caitlin looked at Nathan for confirmation as she patiently gathered Isabelle’s hair again.

  He nodded proudly. “She read two books to me on the airplane. They’re for beginning readers, and she knew almost every word in them.”

  “Isabelle, that’s wonderful. You’re a very bright little girl.”

  Isabelle smiled with an attempt at modesty. “My aunt Barb taught me. She likes books, too. When she visits me here, I’ll read new stories to her.”

  Nathan managed not to wince. Isabelle had readily accepted that she would be living with her brother from now on, but she continued to assume her great-aunt would soon recover from her illness and join them. Nathan hadn’t had the heart to tell her differently.

  Isabelle knew what death was, of course, having lost her parents. But he saw no need to burden her with the truth about her great-aunt’s condition for now.

  He hoped wa
iting was the right choice. He suspected there would be many such dilemmas as she grew older. Someday, for example, she would have to learn the details of her parents’ scandalous courtship. And he wanted to be the one to tell her, before some malicious kid taunted her with it.

  Caitlin handed him the hairbrush, apparently reading his expression. “Isabelle and I have some shopping to do. And you have something you had better do soon.”

  In some ways, she had subconsciously echoed his line of thought. Timing was often critical—and it was definitely time to talk to his mother, before someone beat him to it. “You’re right. I’ll—”

  His doorbell rang before he could finish the sentence.

  “You got company, Nate,” Isabelle announced needlessly.

  “Must be a delivery or something. I’m not expecting anyone.” Motioning for them to hold tight a minute, he moved to the door.

  The last person he had expected to find on his front step was his mother.

  Chapter Five

  From where she stood, Caitlin couldn’t immediately see Nathan’s caller. But she could tell from the sudden tension in his body that it wasn’t a pleasant surprise.

  A moment later she understood the problem when she heard him say, “Mom. What are you doing here?”

  The voice that responded was tight and chilly. “May I come in?”

  Nathan looked over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Caitlin’s for a moment before he moved out of the doorway. “Of course. Come in.”

  Lenore spotted Caitlin as soon as she entered. “Hello, Caitlin. I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning.”

  “I, um,” Caitlin glanced at Nathan for guidance. Standing behind his mother, he shrugged helplessly.

  Lenore’s gaze had already turned to Isabelle. She froze, her carefully made-up face going pale.

  “Hello,” Isabelle said with her characteristic friendliness. “Who are you?”

  “This is my mother,” Nathan said quickly. “Mom, this is—”