“I don’t know what I would have done without you today,”

he said as he covered her hand with his.

Something in his voice—and maybe the way he was looking at her, with warmth in his eyes—ignited a spark in her. A spark she fully intended to douse before it blazed out of control.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on here. Nathan was feeling overwhelmed. And Caitlin was the one person who was on his side. They had to be careful about mistaking gratitude and desperation for something more…personal. She did not need a messy relationship with her business partner. Especially now, when his emotions were so precarious, his life so complicated.

“There’s no need to thank me again,” she said lightly, trying to pull her hand away.

His fingers tightened on hers. His hand was as warm as his gaze, and she felt the spark inside her flare dangerously.

She had worked out the reasoning behind his behavior, but how was she supposed to explain her own?

Dear Reader,

Make way for spring—as well as some room on your reading table for six new Special Edition novels! Our selection for this month’s READERS’ RING—Special Edition’s very own book club—is Playing by the Rules by Beverly Bird. In this innovative, edgy romance, a single mom who is sick and tired of the singles scene makes a deal with a handsome divorced hero—that their relationship will not lead to commitment. But both hero and heroine soon find themselves breaking all those pesky rules and falling head over heels for each other!

Gina Wilkins delights her readers with The Family Plan, in which two ambitious lawyers find unexpected love—and a newfound family—with the help of a young orphaned girl. Reader favorite Nikki Benjamin delivers a poignant reunion romance, Loving Leah, about a compassionate nanny who restores hope to an embittered single dad and his fragile young daughter.

In Call of the West, the last in Myrna Temte’s HEARTS OF WYOMING miniseries, a celebrity writer goes to Wyoming and finds the ranch—and the man—with whom she’d like to spend her life. Now she has to convince the cowboy to give up his ranch—and his heart! In her new cross-line miniseries, THE MOM SQUAD, Marie Ferrarella debuts with A Billionaire and a Baby. Here, a scoop-hungry—and pregnant—reporter goes after a reclusive corporate raider, only to go into labor just as she’s about to get the dirt! Ann Roth tickles our fancy with Reforming Cole, a sexy and emotional tale about a willful heroine who starts a “men’s etiquette” school so that the macho opposite sex can learn how best to treat a lady. Against her better judgment, the teacher falls for the gorgeous bad boy of the class!

I hope you enjoy this month’s lineup and come back for another month of moving stories about life, love and family!

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

The Family Plan
Gina Wilkins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my parents, Vernon and Beth Vaughan,

in recognition of your golden wedding anniversary on

April 29, 2003.

I love you both.

GINA WILKINS

is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than fifty books for Harlequin and Silhouette. She credits her successful career in romance to her long, happy marriage and her three “extraordinary” children.

A lifelong resident of central Arkansas, Ms. Wilkins sold her first book to Harlequin in 1987 and has been writing full-time ever since. She has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of the Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of Romantic Times.

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 One

N athan McCloud tried to be discreet about checking his watch for the third time in fifteen minutes. It was almost 2:45 p.m. and his tee time was 3:30. If he got away within the next five minutes, he would still just barely have time to change, grab his clubs, and…

A loud sigh of exasperation cut into his mental calculations. “Nathan, would you please pay attention? We need to make this decision today.”

He gave his partner his most engaging smile. Caitlin Briley was always a pleasure to look at, and he usually enjoyed teasing her and spending time with her. But he was impatient to escape on this perfect autumn afternoon. “That last one sounded good. Why don’t we give her a call?”

He knew he’d said the wrong thing when Caitlin’s heart-shaped face darkened with a frown. “You haven’t been listening.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course I was listening. Uh, what was wrong with the last one?”

Tapping a red-nailed finger on one of the job applications spread on the desk in front of her, Caitlin replied curtly, “This woman said she would like to work for our firm because it would be nice to be on the right side of the law for a change. She also wanted to know if her compensation could include free legal representation on occasion.”

Nathan winced. “Maybe I wasn’t listening closely enough. I’m not sure she’s what we’re looking for—though she might prove entertaining,” he added thoughtfully.

Rolling her eyes, Caitlin let out what might have been a strangled growl. “We aren’t looking for entertainment. We’re trying to find an efficient, professional, reliable office manager.”

“Couldn’t you just pick someone? You’re good at that sort of thing. I trust your judgment.”

“You aren’t ‘trusting’ me with this responsibility, you’re trying to dump it on me.”

Caitlin always had a knack for cutting right through his BS. Nathan sighed in resignation. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t really care who you hire as long as she’s pleasant to work with and doesn’t interfere with my schedule.”

“Your schedule?” His partner looked at him in disbelief. “You barely have a schedule.”

“Exactly. And I like it that way.”

“We need a good office manager to bring some order to the chaos in this place. And you should have some input into choosing the person we hire.”

“If I promise not to criticize your choice, will you take care of this?” he wheedled. “I’d stay and help you, but I have an appointment this afternoon.”

“With a client or a fishing rod?” she asked suspiciously.

“A client,” he assured her. And then, because he considered himself a fairly honest guy—for a lawyer—he added, “And a set of golf clubs.”

She had looked momentarily mollified, if still skeptical, but now she was frowning again. “Darn it, Nathan.”

He considered reminding her that he was the senior partner here. He had run this firm by himself for two years before he’d impulsively taken on a fresh-out-of-law-school partner just over nine months ago because his workload had gotten heavy enough to interfere with his leisure time.

Caitlin had been the first lawyer he’d interviewed, and he had hired her because she had the most beautiful smoky-gray eyes he’d ever seen—in addition to a thick, shoulder-length curtain of glossy brown hair, an intriguingly dimpled chin, and a petite yet nicely curved figure. Add those attributes to a more than respectable résumé, and he could find no reason at all to send her on her way after that first meeting.

He didn’t know then that he had hired the Attila the Hun of ambitious young lawyers.

She had swept into his lazy little practice with a gung-ho, conquer-the-legal-world attitude that exhausted him. Apparently, she had added him to her list of things about this office that needed to be changed.

But he still thought she had beautiful eyes, he mused, losing himself in their depths for a moment.

She drummed her fingers on his desk. “You really aren’t paying attention to any of this, are you?”

“Did you know you get little sparks in your eyes when you’re annoyed? They just sort of glitter, all silvery in the gray.”

“They must be glittering like crazy right now, then.”

He propped his chin on his fist and gazed at her. “Actually, yes. And a very enticing sight they are, too.”

Her invariable reaction when he flirted with her was to speak gruffly and busy her hands. She did so again this time, shuffling noisily through the applications she was suddenly studying with renewed interest. “I suppose I could narrow these down to two or three and call them in for interviews. I would, of course, expect you to sit in on those interviews with me and help me make the final decision.”

“Why? You know what you’re looking for in an office manager. Hire whoever you like. I have no doubt that whoever you choose will be perfect for the job.”

She was the one who pointed out, “You’re the senior partner. You should have the final say in major decisions like this.”

He shrugged. “My decision is that you should make the decision.”

“A lot of help you are,” she muttered.

He grinned. “Glad to be of assistance. Can I go now?”

She leaned back in her chair with an expression of surrender. “Go. Enjoy your golf game. And if you really are playing with a client, try to talk a little business while you’re out there.”

“If he beats me, I’ll bill him for my time,” Nathan promised, already out of his chair and headed for the door before she could change her mind.

There had been plenty of times during the past nine months when Caitlin had wondered if she’d done the right thing joining Nathan McCloud’s firm in Honesty, a city of 30,000 people in southern Mississippi. At the beginning the offer had seemed almost too good to be true. A partnership right out of law school? In a one-man office that was already making money and was doing so well that Nathan had been turning down cases?

After looking over the books and the day-to-day operations—Nathan had given her unrestricted access to his business records—she had seen the potential for turning this small office into a thriving law firm. At the very least, a few years of practice here would be a great springboard to the partnership track in an established, big-city firm.

Caitlin had lofty career ambitions. Unfortunately, her partner was what she termed “motivationally challenged.”

A month after their confrontation, on the first Thursday afternoon in October, Caitlin was sitting in her office leafing through a thick file and admiring the practical color-coding system the new office manager had instituted when Nathan burst into the room without knocking. “You have to do something about that woman.”

She took a moment to study the frown that creased his attractive face and darkened his blue eyes to near navy. “Which woman is that?”

“That…that dictator you hired as an office manager. She’s out of control.”

“I hired her because you were conveniently unavailable the day of the interviews,” she reminded him. “And you promised not to criticize my choice.”

“How could I have known you were going to hire Irene the Terrible?”

“You might want to shut the door to continue this conversation,” she suggested mildly. Waiting only until he’d kicked the door closed, she added, “Irene is a very nice woman and an extremely efficient office manager. I don’t know what you have against her.”

“She’s a tyrant. She has my files so organized I can’t find anything. When I mess them up, she gives me a look over those little glasses of hers that makes chills go down my spine. I feel like she’s taking mental notes of all my shortcomings and she’s going to bring them up when she gives me my annual employer evaluation.”

“She works for you.”

“Right. Has anyone mentioned that to her?”

Shaking her head, Caitlin closed the file and watched as Nathan plopped into a chair, lanky limbs sprawled, sandy hair tousled. He looked like a sulky teenager, she thought ruefully. An extremely attractive teenager, but a handful, none the less. She was almost five years younger than Nathan, so why did she feel like the older one at that moment?

“Irene has only worked for us for three weeks and already she has our office running like clockwork,” she said. “She’s gotten the clerical staff—all three of them—into shape, so that stacks of overdue filing have been cleared away. Our bills have all been paid. On time, I might add. She’s switched to a new phone service that’s saving us 20 percent a month. Our appointment process has been streamlined so that we’ve significantly cut down on the number of clients sitting impatiently in the waiting room.”

“Exactly.” Nathan nodded forcefully. “She’s scary. It isn’t normal to get that much accomplished in such a short time.”

Caitlin couldn’t help laughing. “You’re being ridiculous.”

A sharp tap on the door interrupted their conversation. It was followed almost immediately by the entrance of the woman they had been discussing. The brown and beige jacket Irene Mitchell wore over a straight brown dress did little to enhance her tall, angular figure. Plastic-framed reading glasses dangled from a gold chain around her neck, neat pearl stud earrings completely hid her almost nonexistent earlobes, and a functional watch was strapped around her bony left wrist. Her long, narrow feet were encased in sensible brown pumps. The only signs of frivolity in the woman’s appearance were the color of her heavily sprayed, meticulously curled, red hair and the crimson lipstick that coated her thin lips.

Caitlin noted that Nathan automatically straightened in his chair when Irene entered. He reminded her of a student who had been goofing off while the teacher was out of the room and hoped to hide that fact upon her return. Smothering a smile, she turned her attention back to the office manager. “What can I do for you, Irene?”

The older woman set a stack of correspondence in front of her. “I need your signature on these. The mail runs in an hour, so you’ll need to sign them promptly. Mr. McCloud, your letters are on your desk awaiting your attention. Would you prefer that I bring them in here?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get to them in a few minutes.”

Irene glanced at her watch. “Your next appointment should be arriving in fifteen minutes. You’ll want to sign your letters before then, of course.”

Nathan cleared his throat. “Of course.”

Irene continued to look at him.

“I’ll sign them,” he repeated, holding up his right hand as a pledge. “As soon as Caitlin and I are finished here.”

Seemingly appeased, Irene nodded and moved toward the door. “I’ll buzz you when your appointment arrives, Mr. McCloud. And, Ms. Briley, don’t forget about your meeting at two this afternoon.”

“I won’t forget. Thank you, Irene.” Caitlin had invited the office manager to drop the formality of surnames, but she persisted in using them, even though she preferred being addressed by her first name. Caitlin had figured out it was a waste of breath to argue with the woman’s eccentricities.

“I’ll be back to collect the signed correspondence—from both of you—shortly,” Irene added as she let herself out of Caitlin’s office.

Nathan released a gusty breath as soon as the door closed behind Irene. “See what I mean? She’s impossible. You’ve got to fire her.”

Caitlin reached for the stack of correspondence and a pen. “I’m not going to fire her. She’s much too good. And she’s actually very nice—as you would find out for yourself if you would give her half a chance.”

“I’ve given her plenty of chances. I smile every time I speak to her.”

“Ah, yes, the patented Nathan McCloud grin,” she murmured without looking up from her signatures, not surprised that Irene hadn’t fallen for such a practiced tactic.

Ignoring her, Nathan continued, “I’ve tried complimenting her appearance.”

“Plan B—fulsome flattery. That didn’t work, either, I’m sure.”

“I even brought her flowers on her first day of work. She thanked me, then put them in my office because she said they made her sneeze.”

“So none of your usual tricks worked. Have you tried just talking to her? One professional to another?”

“You think that would work?” Nathan asked doubtfully.

“It’s certainly worth a shot.”

“I still think you should fire her.”

Caitlin folded her hands on top of the now-signed correspondence and shook her head. “I hired her—on my own—because you didn’t want to be involved. If you aren’t happy with her performance, it’s up to you to fire her.”

She would have sworn his face paled at the very suggestion. “Me? No way.”

“That’s what I thought. So I suppose you’d better find a way to get along with her,” Caitlin advised sweetly.

He glared at her in return.

The speaker on Caitlin’s desk suddenly buzzed. “Mr. McCloud?”

Nathan jumped out of his chair as if the woman could see through walls. “I’m on my way to sign those letters right now.”

“Actually, you have a call on line two. It’s Mr. Alan Curtis from San Diego, California.”

Nathan looked surprised. “The attorney who handled my father’s estate,” he murmured. He motioned toward Caitlin’s phone. “Mind if I take the call in here?”

“Of course not.” She gathered her letters. “I’ll take these out to Irene.”

“Kiss-up,” Nathan murmured, reaching for the receiver.

She only smiled at him as she left him to his call.

Nathan watched Caitlin leave her office, wondering if he’d ever mentioned to her that he liked the way she walked. Smooth strides, soft sway of hips, head up and shoulders squared—very appealing. Of course, if he did tell her, she would get all gruff and flustered the way she always did when he complimented her, which was actually something else he found intriguing about her.

Did she react that way when any man flirted with her or just with him? And what would she do if he cranked it up a notch and suggested they actually go out sometime? It was a suggestion he’d been contemplating for several weeks, waiting until the time seemed right to approach her about it.

Only mildly curious about the call from his late father’s attorney, he lifted the telephone receiver to his ear. “Nathan McCloud.”

“Mr. McCloud, it’s Alan Curtis. I’m glad you were available to take my call.”

Nathan’s eyebrows rose. “You make it sound important. Is something wrong?”

Nathan’s father, along with his much younger wife, had died six months earlier in a tourist helicopter accident in Mexico, leaving a three-year-old daughter behind. The estate had been settled weeks ago, and Nathan couldn’t imagine any problems that might have arisen since. The child had been left in the custody of her maternal great-aunt in California and had inherited all her parent’s assets, since Nathan and his two adult siblings had refused any claim.

For reasons Nathan still didn’t fully understand, his father’s will had named him executor of the child’s inheritance. He’d retained Mr. Curtis’s services for the monitoring of those details. He had expected to be contacted only in cases of emergency. What sort of crisis could have arisen already?

“I’m afraid something is wrong, Mr. McCloud. Barbara Houston has been diagnosed with colon cancer.”

Barbara Houston was the woman who had taken in Nathan’s orphaned half sister. He’d met her only once, at the joint funeral service for Stuart and Kimberly McCloud in California six months ago, but she’d made a very good impression on him. He’d felt comfortable that little Isabelle would be raised in a loving, supportive home. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is it bad?”

“Very bad, I’m afraid. Her chances of survival are slim.”

Nathan sank into Caitlin’s desk chair. “Damn.”

“Exactly. You see why it was imperative that I contact you immediately.”

His head was starting to hurt. He raised his free hand to massage his temples. “What’s going to happen to Isabelle?”

“Mrs. Houston and I spoke at length this morning. She sees only two options. Her preference would be for you to come get the child and have yourself named guardian.”

Nathan spoke without hesitation. “That isn’t possible.”

“There’s really no one else to take her, Mr. McCloud. Your stepmother’s parents are both dead and her only sibling is an unmarried brother who is on active military duty, stationed overseas. Mrs. Houston is widowed and has only one daughter, who is divorced and raising four young children of her own. There simply is no one else. Unless one of your other siblings…?”

“Mr. Curtis, I’m not sure how much you know about my father’s history here.”

When Nathan paused, the other man spoke with audible caution. “I’m aware that your father was a prominent business leader there in Mississippi and had considered a run for the governor’s office.”

“He was a gubernatorial candidate,” Nathan clarified. “The campaign was in full swing, he was backed by some very influential people in his party, and he had a solid standing in the polls. He could very well have won the office. He was quite a hero here in his hometown, the first native son to run for such a high position in our state. And then, six months before the election, he announced that he was dropping out to marry one of his campaign volunteers—Barbara Houston’s niece, Kimberly Leighton.”

“Um—”

Nathan continued in a deliberately nonemotional tone. “It was a bit messy at the time because Kimberly was thirty years his junior, and pregnant. Oh, and my father was still married then—to my mother.”

Nathan could almost hear the other man wince. “Mr. McCloud, I—”

“I’m trying to explain why it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to bring my father’s child here. My father tore his family apart four years ago. He humiliated my mother and broke my younger sister’s heart. My brother hasn’t been quite the same since Dad bailed out on us. We’re still trying to rebuild our relationships with each other. Even if I were prepared to raise a toddler, which, believe me, I’m not, my family would never be able to accept her.”

“I’m sorry. I—well, I wasn’t aware that you were so estranged from your father. He told me you visited him here in California a few times, and he named you your sister’s executor.”

“I was the only one to maintain a relationship with my father,” Nathan admitted, “much to my family’s dissatisfaction. I didn’t approve of his actions, but I didn’t want to completely sever all ties with him. I hoped my brother and sister would be able to make some sort of peace with him, but his death put an end to that. I hold nothing against little Isabelle, so I didn’t mind agreeing to be available in the event of an emergency, but bringing her here, trying to raise her—well, I’m afraid that’s simply out of the question.”

The older man sighed heavily. “Mrs. Houston suspected that would be your answer. It seems we have no choice but to resort to the only other option.”

Nathan didn’t like the sound of that, nor the tone in which the attorney had spoken. “What’s the other option?”

“The child will have to be put up for adoption.”

Grimacing, Nathan cleared his throat. “That seems rather…drastic.”

“The circumstances are drastic, Mr. McCloud. Mrs. Houston is very ill. She isn’t able to care for an active toddler any longer.”

“I could help with the expense of a full-time nanny.”

“I’m afraid that would only be a short-term solution. I’m not sure you understand the gravity of Mrs. Houston’s condition. Her cancer was already at an advanced stage when she was diagnosed, and this particular type of cancer is very aggressive. She’s only expected to live for another few months. The child must be placed soon. Mrs. Houston is ready to relinquish her to the California Department of Child Services. She’s very fond of Isabelle, but she’s simply too ill to concentrate on anyone’s well-being except her own.”

The headache was rapidly intensifying. Nathan rubbed harder at his temples, which had absolutely no effect against the pounding. “I need time to think about this.”

“I understand. But our time is limited, I’m afraid.”

Picturing the pleasant-faced, kind-eyed woman he’d met at his father’s funeral, Nathan was aware of a wave of sadness on her behalf. Barbara Houston had seemed like a very nice woman, only in her mid-fifties. He hated to think of her suffering so terribly. “Can you give me a few hours to process this, Mr. Curtis? Isabelle’s okay for now, isn’t she?”

“Mrs. Houston was hospitalized several days ago, but the child is fine for now. She’s staying with Mrs. Houston’s pastor and his wife. Mrs. Houston called me from the hospital, and I visited her there. Frankly, she looks terrible. Worrying about her great-niece isn’t making her any more comfortable.”

Nathan got the message. Time was running out, fast. “Give me until tomorrow morning. I’ll call you first thing,” he promised, glancing up as Caitlin reentered her office. “Don’t do anything until I talk to you, okay?”

“I’ll be expecting your call.”

Nathan hung up the phone, then buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Nathan?” He heard Caitlin’s footsteps as she moved closer. “Are you okay?”

Slowly lowering his hands, he looked up at her, taking some comfort from the genuine concern reflected in her warm gray eyes. “How do you think I’d stack up as a father?”

She lifted both her eyebrows. “This is a rhetorical question, I hope.”

“Not exactly. I have to decide whether to take my father’s three-and-a-half-year-old daughter and try to raise her myself or to let her disappear into the California child services system and hope she’s quickly adopted by a decent family.”

Caitlin knew a little of his family history. Of course, no one could live for long in this town without hearing the details of the juiciest scandal to rock this area in decades. She had already joined his firm when his father died, and she’d run the office during the few days Nathan was in California for the funeral. So she wasn’t surprised by his reference to his half sister, but she certainly appeared flabbergasted by everything else he’d said. “There’s no one else to take her?”

“Not a soul. The great-aunt who’s been raising her is very ill. I have to make a decision very quickly—by tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry. No wonder you look so upset.”

“Yeah. Hell of a choice I’ve got here. Take in a three-year-old and completely alienate my already-screwed-up family or farm the kid out to strangers and give up the right to ever see her again.” The final words were gruff as he forced them through his suddenly tight throat.

Caitlin only looked at him.

On an impulse he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He didn’t carry many photographs, only two. An old family photo of his parents, himself and his two younger siblings taken when Nathan was sixteen. And a snapshot of a little blond princess with enormous blue eyes and several deep dimples. He held that one out to Caitlin.

She studied it with her lower lip caught between her teeth. And then she looked up at him again, her smoky gray eyes almost black now. “Oh, Nathan.”

He swallowed, nodded and slipped the photo back into its place opposite the old family portrait.

The desk speaker buzzed. “Ms. Briley? Is Mr. McCloud still in there?”

“I’m here, Irene.”

“Your appointment has arrived, Mr. McCloud. She seems quite nervous. You probably shouldn’t keep her waiting long.”

“Right. Give me five minutes, then show her to my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stuffing his wallet back into his pocket, Nathan pushed a hand through his tumbled hair. “I’d better go to my office and get ready for Mrs. Danoff.”

“Nathan?”

Caitlin’s voice made him pause in the doorway. “Yes?”

“What are you going to do?”

He pushed his hand through his hair again. How could he even consider taking in a three-year-old? He had never even committed to a pet. He did pretty well just taking care of himself. It would shatter his mother’s already-broken heart, and his siblings would probably never speak to him again—not that they said much to him these days, anyway.

But could he sign her away? Turn her over to strangers with no guarantees that she would be treated well, never to see her again or know what had happened to her? She was his sister, damn it.

Realizing that Caitlin was still waiting for an answer, he sighed. “Beats the hell out of me.”

Chapter Two

C aitlin had little chance to talk with Nathan again that afternoon. Both of them were busy with back-to-back appointments, and then she had to leave early for a dental appointment.

Tired from a long, busy week, she wasn’t really in the mood to socialize that evening, but she had little choice. Once a year, the Honesty Chamber of Commerce held a reception to recognize the community’s prominent volunteers, and all the local business and society leaders attended. There was no way Caitlin would miss such a chance to mingle with influential neighbors. It was simply too good an opportunity to increase the visibility of the McCloud and Briley Law Firm.

She knew Nathan would be in attendance, though this was hardly his preferred choice of entertainment. His mother was one of the five volunteers being honored that evening for her active role in local children’s charities. Nathan wouldn’t dare skip the event.

As she dressed in a suitably conservative yet sophisticated black cocktail sheath, she wondered if he had made a decision about his little sister’s future. Surely he would come to the conclusion that adoption was the only alternative. She couldn’t imagine Nathan trying to raise a three-year-old on his own. Heck, she couldn’t picture herself raising a toddler, and she was a hundred times more organized than Nathan!

And then the image of the golden-haired little girl in the photograph popped into her mind. She knew Nathan had met the child on several occasions during the past three years. During those visits with his father’s new family, he had accumulated several amusing stories about his cute-as-a-button, incredibly bright-for-her-age little sister—stories he had shared with Caitlin during the months they’d worked together because no one in his family had wanted to hear them.

She could see both sides of his family’s conflict. While she admired Nathan for maintaining some ties with his father, his mother and siblings still bitterly resented Stuart McCloud for publicly abandoning his family in favor of a woman half his age.

Caitlin hadn’t lived here four years ago, and hadn’t yet met Nathan, but she had certainly heard plenty about the scandal. The gossip columns and TV newscasts had been filled with talk of the gubernatorial candidate’s affair with a young campaign volunteer and the subsequent pregnancy that ended his thirty-year marriage…and his political career. The press had been vicious, camping outside the homes of the betrayed wife and adult offspring, hoping for juicy quotes and photos. She remembered how sorry she had felt for the McCloud family then, and how much she had admired the poise and restraint Stuart’s wronged wife, Lenore, had shown in the wake of the debacle.

She had met Lenore several times during the past nine months. Nathan’s mother dropped in frequently at the law offices and had been unfailingly gracious to Caitlin. She knew the woman was much admired in Honesty—hence, the recognition from the Chamber of Commerce later this evening. Yet Caitlin also knew that Lenore had never forgiven her ex-husband for his betrayal. And while Lenore and Nathan maintained a good relationship, she had resented his refusal to sever communication with his father.

If Nathan were to bring his father’s late-life child into his family’s midst, his mother and siblings would consider the gesture a slap in the face. A betrayal almost as cutting as his father’s. Knowing how much his family meant to him and how hard he had worked to repair the rifts that had developed between them during the past few years, she understood how reluctant he would be to further widen the chasms. And yet, because family was so important to him, and because Nathan had loved his father despite his flaws, she knew how hard it would be for Nathan to turn his back on his baby sister.

She certainly didn’t envy him the decision he faced during the next few hours.

Nathan was beginning to worry that his head was in danger of exploding. So many thoughts were ricocheting through his mind that he wouldn’t be surprised if he developed dents in his skull.

He knew he hadn’t been his usual charming, personable self during the chamber of commerce event. He’d been aware of the puzzled and concerned looks he’d received all evening as he’d responded to conversational gambits with absentminded and sometimes monosyllabic replies. People were used to his brother, Gideon, sitting in a corner and glowering during social events, since Gideon would rather sacrifice nonessential body parts than to attend functions like this. But Nathan enjoyed social gatherings, usually staying right in the middle of the activities and generally being the life of the party.

“Nathan, are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” his mother asked as the evening drew to a close. “You’ve been so distracted all evening.”

He managed a smile for her. “Sorry, Mom. I hope I haven’t spoiled your big party.”

“Of course not.” She raised a hand to touch the rose corsage she had been given earlier to designate her as one of the special honorees of the event. “I’ve had a lovely evening. I’m simply concerned about you.”

“I, um, have a lot on my mind,” he said, stalling.

This was definitely not the time to bring up his father’s name, nor to remind his mother of little Isabelle’s existence. As much as he would have liked to discuss his dilemma with his mother, he was convinced that he already knew what her response would be. Lenore McCloud would not wish harm on any child, but she couldn’t be objective where this little girl was concerned. She would expect him to give the child up for adoption without a second thought. She would even try to convince him that he would be doing Isabelle a disservice if he were to prevent her from being placed in a two-parent home.

And maybe she would be right, Nathan mused. He was all too aware of his own shortcomings as parental material. Who was to say there wasn’t a perfectly wonderful couple waiting to give Isabelle a loving, supportive home?

A tall, somber, dark-haired man approached the relatively quiet corner where Nathan had sought refuge and where his mother had found him. “Just wanted to let you know I’m out of here,” the newcomer said to Lenore. “Congratulations on your award, Mom.”

Though her younger son had arrived barely twenty minutes earlier, Lenore didn’t protest the brevity of his appearance. Nathan knew Lenore was pleased that Gideon had shown up at all. She smiled at her younger son. “Thank you for coming, Gideon. I know this isn’t your sort of thing.”

Gideon’s firm mouth twisted in a wry half smile. “You got that right. But I knew you would be hurt if I didn’t make an appearance at this wingding in your honor.”

Though she couldn’t resist preening a bit, Lenore reminded him that there had been four other honorees that evening. Gideon shrugged off the others as unimportant.

“Hold on a minute, bro. I’ll walk you out,” Nathan said on an impulse.

His brother lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sure I can find my truck.”

“Yeah, but I want to talk to you about something.” Nathan moved aside as two of his mother’s friends approached her. “See you later, Mom.”

“Don’t leave without letting me know,” she admonished before turning to her friends.

Suspecting that she would try again to find out what had been on his mind all evening, Nathan nodded and vowed to take his leave of her when there were others around to prevent any personal conversation. Walking toward the exit, he spotted Caitlin working the crowd on the other side of the country club ballroom. He couldn’t help smiling at her earnest and eager expression. She certainly wasn’t missing the opportunity to promote the law firm.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought that she should have gone into politics. She must have shaken the hand of everyone in attendance this evening; if there had been any babies in the room she would probably have kissed them.

Caitlin was most definitely destined for professional success. Whether she would find what she craved here in Honesty with him as her partner—well, that remained to be seen.

He and Gideon had just reached the door when their sister, Deborah, caught up with them. “You aren’t both leaving, are you?” she protested, blocking their way. “I have to stay until Mom’s ready to leave, since I drove her here.”

Deborah didn’t live in Honesty, but she had come to attend the reception for her mother. Like Gideon, she’d known it was important to Lenore for all her children to show their support for her tonight. Deborah was staying at her mother’s house for the weekend and would return to her apartment in Tampa Sunday evening.

“I’m not leaving yet,” Nathan assured her. “Just walking Gideon out. Actually, why don’t you come, too? There’s something I need to discuss with both of you—in private.”

“A private discussion in the parking lot?” Gideon inquired.

Nathan shrugged. “It’s one of the rare times we’re all together these days. And this concerns a decision I have to make by tomorrow morning, so this is as good a time as any.”

“Does this decision affect us?” Deborah, always the suspicious one, wanted to know.

“In a way, yes.”

“Then I want to hear about it. You know how I feel about anyone making decisions on my behalf.”

Nathan felt his mouth twist. “Trust me, I know exactly how you feel about that.”

She turned and led the way through the exit door to the covered portico for rainy-weather drop-offs. A uniformed police officer stood outside the door. Nathan recognized Dylan Smith even before Deborah stiffened at his side.

“Well, if it isn’t the Clan McCloud.” Dylan touched his hat in what would probably look like a friendly gesture to anyone who didn’t know the history behind his greeting.

“Your uncle the police chief put you on security detail tonight?” Gideon inquired blandly, sweeping the officer with a cool glance.

Dylan was actually a year younger than thirty-year-old Gideon, but he didn’t look it. Experience had toughened his features and hardened his expression until there was nothing boyish left about him. Nathan doubted there were many who would be willing to pit their strength against this six-foot-one cop.

Yet Dylan spoke pleasantly enough when he responded to Gideon’s barely veiled gibe. “That’s right. My job is to keep all the riffraff away from the society crowd here tonight.”

“Well, keep up the good work. Maybe you’ll get promoted to traffic detail.” Gideon made no effort to hide the fact that he hadn’t forgotten several ugly confrontations between them in the past. One of those encounters had left Gideon with a black eye and a severely bruised ego.

To Dylan’s credit, the sudden tightening of his jaw was the only evidence that Gideon’s cutting words had angered him. Turning his back on Gideon, he spoke to Deborah, instead. “’Evening, Ms. McCloud. You’re looking extremely well tonight. Very sophisticated and successful.”

There was nothing polished about Deborah’s response. “Bite me, Dylan.”

Before the other man could reply to that suggestion, Nathan said quickly, “That’s enough, you guys. Isn’t it finally time to put the past behind us and let bygones be bygones?”

Three smoldering glares turned his way. “No,” they all said in unison.

He sighed, conceding that he had done all he could to settle that old conflict. “Whatever. Gideon, where’s your truck?”

Without answering, Gideon turned and headed toward the western side of the parking lot. Deborah followed him, though Nathan saw her throw one quick glance over her shoulder toward Dylan. Since Dylan was watching her walk away, Nathan saw their eyes lock—a moment of shared memories, perhaps? Deborah was the one who broke the connection, jerking her head around and hurrying after Gideon.

Nodding cordially to the officer who had once been a thorn in his own side, Nathan followed his siblings, bracing himself for the discussion to come.

Gideon had parked beneath a security lamp, his black-and-chrome pickup gleaming in the yellowish light. It was fully dark now. Though the early October days were still warm, they were growing shorter as winter crept closer. Several of the houses grouped around the golf course were already decorated with orange lights for Halloween.

“What’s so important that you had to talk to us tonight?” Gideon demanded, leaning back against his pickup with his arms crossed over his chest.

Unlike Nathan and Deborah, who had inherited their father’s blond hair and blue eyes, Gideon was dark-haired and green-eyed like their mother. And yet in some ways—a trick of facial expression, perhaps—Gideon looked very much like their father, though Nathan knew his brother would not appreciate the comparison.

Nathan drew a deep breath, faced his younger siblings squarely and told them about the call he had received that afternoon.

“Surely you aren’t even considering bringing that child here,” Deborah said flatly, holding up both hands as if to physically ward off a really bad idea.

Nathan studied his sister’s horrified expression. “You think she should be put up for adoption.”

“Of course. Face it, Nathan, it’s the best solution for everyone, the child included. In California she can be placed with a family who’ll raise her far away from the scandal here. People who might never know the circumstances of the child’s conception. You bring her here, where everyone knows what went on four years ago, and she’ll never live it down. Hell, it’s hard enough for us to deal with the looks we still get whenever that old gossip resurfaces.”

“I can’t imagine that anyone would hold the parents’ mistakes against an innocent child,” Nathan rebutted. He had never known Deborah to be deliberately cruel to anyone, but then again, none of the McClouds were rational when it came to the traumatic events of four years ago.

“It would kill Mother to have that kid shoved in her face every time she goes out in public in her own hometown. It would start the old gossip going again, have her friends tittering behind her back…”

“Some friends, if they would do that,” Nathan muttered.

Deborah ignored him. “If you were foolish enough to try to raise her, you would make it impossible for our family to get together for holidays or special occasions. You can’t seriously expect Mother to welcome her husband’s bastard into the home she shared with him for thirty years!”

“Dad and Kimberly were married by the time Isabelle arrived,” Nathan reminded her. “True, they had only been married a few weeks, but Isabelle was not born out of wedlock.”

“Surely you wouldn’t do this to Mother,” his sister insisted, her voice thick with the pain of a betrayal from which she had never fully recovered.

Drawing another deep breath, Nathan clung to his patience. He reminded himself that Deborah had been young, barely twenty-two, when she’d learned about her father’s affair and his young girlfriend’s pregnancy. A senior in a large university in another state, she’d had to face the media circus and the avid curiosity of her classmates on her own.

“I didn’t say I’m going to bring her here. It’s just hard for me to put her up for adoption without even considering all the other possibilities. She’s our sister, Deb.”

Deborah took a step backward, clearly rejecting that particular argument. “She’s the result of an affair between a middle-aged man and a twenty-five-year-old bimbo,” she stated angrily. “No one in this town would ever see her differently.”

She was probably right. Not only would it be unfair to bring the child into the household of a footloose bachelor who didn’t have a clue about raising kids, it would be wrong to subject her to the gossip that would probably always surround her here. “I guess I just needed confirmation that I’m doing the right thing.”

Deborah’s face softened, if only fractionally. “I know you’ve always had some misguided compulsion to take care of the family and to keep everyone happy and connected. Nathan the Peacemaker—you probably should have been a minister instead of a lawyer, but even when you went to law school it was to please Dad. You couldn’t even cut ties with him when he betrayed every value he’d ever stood for. I never agreed with you about that. I never believed he deserved to have even one of us in his life after he deserted us, but I knew you well enough to understand why you felt compelled to make the effort. Even though I still think you were wrong.”

She had never tried to hide her disapproval of Nathan’s visits with their father during the past four years. Like their mother, Deborah thought those visits were disloyal. They had wanted Nathan to choose a side—theirs—and never cross that line. “I didn’t approve of his choices any more than you did, Deb. But he was still our father.”

“He abdicated that position when he ran off with Kimberly.”

It was an old argument and a fruitless one. Even if he could change her mind, it was too late now. Stuart was dead.

She seemed to read his thoughts. “Dad’s gone now, and we’ve all managed to move on. Mother looked more content tonight than I’ve seen her in a long time. Don’t hurt her again, Nathan.”

His chest was starting to hurt—whether from heartburn or heartache, he couldn’t have said. He looked at Gideon, who had remained stoically silent throughout Nathan’s discussion with their sister. “I suppose you agree with everything Deborah said.”

Gideon shrugged. “You do whatever you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Nathan’s hand moved toward the inside pocket of his suit jacket, where his wallet now rested. “I don’t suppose you would like to see a photograph of little Isabelle. Neither of you has ever seen her.”

“No,” they said simultaneously—Gideon’s voice flat, Deborah’s more passionate.

He dropped his hand. “Fine. I just thought you had a right to know what’s going on with her.”

“You haven’t mentioned any of this to mother?”

He gave his sister a look. “I’m not a complete jerk, Deb.”

She merely shrugged.

“If the family meeting is over, I’m out of here,” Gideon said, pulling his keys from the pocket of the sport coat he’d worn as his only concession to the formality of the event.

“And I’m going back inside. I think I’d like a drink,” Deborah said, implicitly daring either of them to try and stop her.

Nathan moved out of her way. He would have offered to escort her back in, but he suspected she’d had enough of his company for now. She was safe enough in the parking lot. There wasn’t much crime in Honesty. And Officer Dylan Smith was still very much on duty at the entrance.

Nathan was watching Gideon’s truck leave the parking lot when he heard Caitlin’s voice behind him. “Are you all right?”

Deliberately blanking his expression, he turned to find her standing only a few feet away.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” she assured him quickly. “I was on my way to my car and I saw the three of you parting. I thought I should check on you when I realized you look…well, you look so tired.”

Tired was exactly what he felt. And old, even though he was barely thirty-one. And sad. He’d lost his father. His brother and sister seemed to be drifting farther from him—and each other—all the time, and now he was about to sever all ties with his baby half sister.

What had Stuart done to this family? And could the damage ever really be repaired?

Caitlin took a step closer. “Nathan?”

“I’m fine. As you guessed, I’m tired. I told Gideon and Deborah about the decision I’m facing tonight.”

“I take it from your expression that they weren’t very supportive.”

As always, his first instinct was to defend his family. “You can’t really blame them. They’re both still getting past everything Dad put them through. And though neither of them is able to admit it yet, they’re still dealing with their grief over his death. This just brings everything back for them.”

She motioned toward her car, which was parked only a few spaces from the one Gideon had just vacated. “I was just headed home. I’ve got no plans for the rest of the evening, if you’d like to go someplace and talk. I’m not sure I have any good advice to offer, but I’m a good listener.”

“It’s a tempting offer—” very tempting, actually “—but I think I’ll pass tonight. I have to make some arrangements. I’ll be leaving for San Diego in the morning. I’ve canceled my appointments for tomorrow. I hope to be back by Monday, Tuesday at the latest. I hope our scary office manager can rearrange my schedule if I should get detained.”

“I imagine Irene can handle just about anything. Um, why are you going to San Diego?”

“I thought I should pay a visit to Mrs. Houston, see if there’s anything I can do for her. And I’d like to see Isabelle one more time before…well.”

Caitlin laid a hand on his arm, reading something in his tone that had drawn her even closer. “You’ve decided to go with the adoption plan?”

He tried unsuccessfully to erase a mental image of his father and Kimberly. Despite the scandal surrounding their relationship, Stuart and Kimberly had been happy together, and they had loved their daughter deeply. The vacation in Mexico had been the first time they had been away from her.

Nathan knew they would never have considered the trip if they’d had any idea they would be leaving the little girl so vulnerable and alone.

Appreciating the moral support Caitlin was offering, he covered her soft, cool hand with his larger one. “Adoption seems like the best alternative for everyone involved. Mrs. Houston and her family will be able to concentrate on her treatments, and Isabelle will be placed in a state-approved, two-parent home. She won’t have to be bounced between sitters, constantly uncertain about where she’ll end up next.”

She nodded, obviously agreeing with his decision and the reasons behind it. “Take all the time you need to settle things in California. Irene and I can keep everything under control at the office until you get back.”

“Thanks, Caitlin. I appreciate that. You’ve been great today.”

Her smile was faint and bittersweet. “I understand how difficult family obligations can become.”

He was sure she did understand. He knew that her widowed mother was confined to a nursing home in Jackson, a tragic victim of an untimely, massive stroke. Caitlin visited her mother at least twice a month, though she’d told him her mother hadn’t recognized her in more than a year.

He and Caitlin had both dealt with heartache in their families, and they had both been the ones who’d had to shoulder the responsibilities—Caitlin as an only child, he as the eldest offspring. Despite their differing approaches to work, he and Caitlin actually had quite a bit in common, a thought that had occurred to him on several occasions.

He glanced toward the country club. A steady stream of guests were beginning to emerge. He had no interest in going back inside, but he’d promised his mother he wouldn’t leave without telling her good-night.

He swallowed a sigh, along with a futile wish that he was in a cozy tent somewhere in a pristine wilderness with no more pressing decisions than which flies would catch the most trout. He wondered if Caitlin liked camping and fishing.

She gave his arm a little squeeze. “Have a safe trip, Nathan. I hope everything works out for the best—for everyone.”

He would have liked to kiss her then, if nothing more than a brush of his lips against her cheek. Just a gesture of gratitude, he assured himself, because she’d been so nice today. But, since their association to this point had not included even casual kisses, he decided the time wasn’t right to initiate such a gesture now, even with the most innocent of intentions.

Or were they really that innocent?

He reluctantly released her hand. “Good night, Caitlin.”

He waited until she was safely inside her car before he turned, squared his shoulders and moved determinedly back toward the entrance.

After all, he reminded himself grimly, a promise was a promise—no matter how inconvenient. That thought reminded him of the implied promise he’d made to his father when he’d agreed to be Isabelle’s executor.

His head was pounding in earnest when he reentered the country club with dragging steps.

Chapter Three

T he offices seemed different without Nathan in them. Quieter. More solemn, somehow. For some reason people tended to speak in near whispers—both the clients in the waiting room and the few employees at their desks.

Did Nathan really make that much noise, Caitlin wondered during a brief respite Friday afternoon, or was everyone responding to the tension in the offices due to his extended absence?

Appointments and court dates had been shuffled, reshuffled and rescheduled, and Caitlin was having to work frantically to keep up. Irene worked the organizational miracles Caitlin had come to expect from her, but Caitlin had to admit the efficient office manager was a rather intimidating presence. Nathan’s habitual joviality served as a counterbalance to Irene’s pragmatism and Caitlin’s naturally quiet manner. Without him the office simply wasn’t as…well, as alive.

She missed him. And the next time she saw him, she fully intended to let him have it for leaving work dangling this long with little notice and even less explanation of what was keeping him in California.

The few calls they had received from him had been brief, uninformative, and carefully timed so that Caitlin wouldn’t be there to talk to him. The messages had all come relayed through Irene or one of the other staff members. Basically they all said the same thing: “Sorry. Still tied up here. Be back as soon as possible.”

No personal messages for her, but, then, she hadn’t expected any, she assured herself. She simply wanted him to hurry back because she was tired of trying to handle everything here by herself.

Late in the afternoon she sat at her desk, focusing on her computer screen and popping M&M’s into her mouth in lieu of the lunch she hadn’t had time to eat. Irene tapped on the door and entered carrying a stack of folders. “Here are the files you asked for.”

“Thanks. Another wild day, isn’t it?”

“It has been…eventful.”

Caitlin pushed a hand through her slightly disheveled hair. “You haven’t heard from Nathan this afternoon?”

“No, Mr. McCloud hasn’t called.”

Caitlin bit her lip, making no comment about the heavy disapproval in Irene’s voice. The office manager seemed to think Nathan was off on an impulsive vacation, leaving her and Caitlin and the rest of the staff to deal with the resulting chaos. Caitlin couldn’t believe that. Nathan might duck out for an afternoon of golf or fishing, but surely he wouldn’t leave them in the lurch this long unless something was wrong.

He had told his mother he was taking a few days of well-deserved vacation time. His siblings, of course, knew where he was, but Caitlin doubted they had shared that information with their mother.

Had there been a problem with putting the child up for adoption? Had the girl’s guardian changed her mind despite her grave illness? Or maybe Nathan was staying until he was certain the child would be safely placed in a suitable home. That wouldn’t surprise her. Despite his sometimes lackadaisical approach to work, Nathan’s sense of responsibility to his family was hyperdeveloped.

Or maybe he was simply having a hard time letting Isabelle go.

Caitlin still sympathized with his dilemma, but, oh, was she getting tired, she thought with a sigh, rubbing the back of her taut neck.

To add to her tension level, she had taken on a new case—a medical malpractice claim—that had seemed fairly straightforward at the beginning, but was mushrooming into what could very well prove to be an extremely expensive legal action. She had no doubt that her client had been the victim of malpractice, but such claims were difficult to prove, and the doctor in question was practically a legend in this part of the state. Wealthy, highly visible, socially powerful.

She was beginning to wonder if she’d gotten in over her head. And it didn’t help that her partner wasn’t around for consultations.

She was developing an incipient headache that threatened to become a migraine. Tapping on her computer keyboard with one hand, she used the other to toss two pain-killers into her mouth, washing them down with a sip of cold coffee. The taste made her shudder, but she kept working, refusing to let the stress get the best of her.

Someone tapped on her open office door. Without taking her eyes from the computer screen, she said, “Whatever it is, just lay it on my desk. I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

“I don’t really think your desk is the right place for me to put what I’m holding.”

Her physical reaction to the sound of Nathan’s deep voice rather surprised her. Her heart jumped, her pulse sped up and a quiver went through her…..

Relief, she assured herself. What else could it be?

She hit the buttons on her keyboard to save her work. “It’s about time you got back,” she said, turning to face him. “I—”

Her words trailed into silence when she saw him. Or, more specifically, when she saw the sleeping toddler he held in his arms, her golden head resting trustingly on his shoulder.

“Irene, hold my calls, please.” Releasing the intercom button on her phone, Caitlin leaned back slowly in her chair, still staring at Nathan and the child. She kept her voice low to avoid waking the little girl when she said, “You brought her back with you.”

His expression was a complex mixture of sheepishness, defensiveness and what might have been a touch of fear. “Yes.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

He grimaced. “Probably. But I really had no other choice.”

The funny thing was, she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been. Maybe deep inside she had expected this all along.

She sighed. “What happened?”

Balancing the child with a rather endearing awkwardness, he settled carefully into a chair before replying, “She recognized me as soon as she saw me, can you believe that? She’s just a baby and it’s been months since I saw her last, but the minute I walked into the room, she came running up to me saying ‘Nate,’ which is what she’s always called me.”

“That is surprising.” The tot hardly looked old enough to talk, much less to remember names and faces.

“I can tell you it gave me a funny feeling when she put her arms up for a hug as if it were only the day before when we saw each other last.”

“Was that when you decided to bring her home with you?”

“No. I was still trying to convince myself that it would be better to give her up. Anyway, I spent a couple of hours with her, and then I went to the hospital to visit her great-aunt, Barbara Houston. While I was there, one of the nurses, who seemed quite nice, called me aside to tell me that she and her husband were interested in adopting Isabelle.”

He shifted Isabelle to a more comfortable position in his arms. “The nurse said she met Isabelle when the pastor brought her to the hospital to visit Mrs. Houston. She claimed she’d become quite fond of her. And then she proceeded to ask me a few dozen questions about Isabelle’s trust fund and whether any of it would be available to whoever adopted her.”

Caitlin winced. “Ouch.”

“She tried to be subtle about it, of course. She claimed that she simply needed to know the details for Isabelle’s sake, that she wanted to be sure the child would have her needs met during her childhood. But I’ve dealt with greed enough to recognize it when I see it.”

“So because one woman was more interested in the trust fund than the child, you decided everyone would be?”

He hesitated, then grimaced. “I know how it sounds, but you didn’t see that woman’s eyes. There isn’t quite a fortune in the trust fund, but the insurance settlement from the tourist helicopter company was sizable enough to draw plenty of attention. No matter where Isabelle ends up, the trust fund is secure until she’s eighteen, but some people might think there are ways to get around the safeguards.”

“There are plenty of couples who would love to have a little girl like Isabelle whether or not she has a dime to her name,” Caitlin reminded him.

“I’m aware of that. But there would be no way for me to know for certain,” he said stubbornly.

She decided not to bother suggesting that he’d latched on to the first valid excuse he’d found to change his mind about the adoption. He’d probably known from the moment Isabelle had run to greet him that he couldn’t give her to strangers, no matter what the repercussions.

“So what are you going to do now?”

He swallowed before he answered. “I’ve spent the past few days having myself named her guardian. The process was expedited because of Mrs. Houston’s illness, but it still took some finagling. Fortunately, Alan has some influence there.”

Caitlin shook her head in amazement as the reality of what he had done sank in. “You’re her guardian.”

She would have sworn he lost a bit of color, but he nodded gamely. “I have sole responsibility for her now. As I said, there wasn’t anyone else.”

“So now what? You’re surely not going to try to raise her yourself?”

“Well…yeah.”

She felt herself sink further into her chair. “Nathan, you can’t. What do you know about raising children? A little girl?”

“Nothing,” he admitted frankly. “But I’ll learn.”

“Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have?”

“You can—” She glanced at the child to make sure she was still asleep, then lowered her voice to a whisper, anyway. “You can still put her up for adoption. Take a little time to find a nice family you can trust with her safety and her trust fund.”

“I figure I’ll adopt her myself. I’ve handled a few adoptions in my time, even a couple for single parents. With the advantage of being her biological half brother, I shouldn’t run into any serious problems.”

And then what? Caitlin stared at him, trying to imagine footloose Nathan McCloud trading in his sports car for a minivan. Cooking macaroni and cheese, doing laundry, attending PTA meetings….

“You have lost your mind,” she decided aloud.

“I can see why you might think so,” he answered rather stiffly.

“Have you told your family?”

“Not yet. I came here straight from the airport.”

“Do you…” She paused while she mentally groped for the right words. “Do you think they’ll be able to accept her?”

She watched as he held the toddler closer. “I hope so. They’ve got good hearts, despite the pain my father caused them. I find it hard to believe they could look at Isabelle and not fall for her, despite the circumstances of her conception.”

Caitlin wasn’t so sure. Lenore McCloud was a woman who was greatly concerned with her social standing. Having just rebounded from her former husband’s betrayal, she wasn’t going to easily accept this reminder. Gideon was a taciturn, withdrawn man—a writer who seemed to live more inside his head than in the real world. She couldn’t imagine him melting in response to a child’s smile.

Caitlin had only met Deborah a couple of times, but Caitlin had gotten an impression of a woman who was impulsive, tempestuous and stubborn—a volatile mixture of her brothers’ diverse personalities.

Nathan had a tough road ahead of him.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t have a clue. I’m open to any advice I can get.”

“Don’t look at me.” She held up both hands. “I know nothing about raising kids—or placating irate family members. I was an only child, remember, and my family actually got along pretty well, despite our other problems.”

“You’ve never told me much about your family,” Nathan remarked. “I’d like to hear about them sometime.”

She didn’t want to talk about her family now. She wondered if it was incredibly selfish of her to be wondering how Nathan’s impulsive move would affect her. Professionally speaking, of course, she assured herself—though she knew there was something more to her stunned reaction than that. Something she didn’t want to think about right now.

With a drowsy murmur, Isabelle roused and lifted her head from Nathan’s shoulder. Her big blue eyes were still heavy-lidded when she looked around in curiosity at her new surroundings, her gaze finally settling on Caitlin’s face. “Hi,” she said.

A bit surprised by the calm greeting, Caitlin attempted a friendly smile, hoping it wasn’t as stiff as it felt. “Hello, Isabelle.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Caitlin.”

“Miss Caitlin,” Nathan murmured, deeply ingrained Southern traditions kicking in.

“Are you Nate’s friend?”

Apparently Nathan hadn’t exaggerated when he had gone on about how smart and well-spoken his half sister was for her age. There was hardly a baby lisp in the clear little voice. “Yes, I’m Nathan’s friend.”

“I’m his sister.”

Caitlin couldn’t help smiling again at the quiet pride in the statement. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m going to live with him now. Aunt Barb is sick.”

The desk intercom buzzed before Caitlin could reply. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Briley, but the call you’ve been waiting for is on line two.”

“You’d better take that.” Nathan stood. “Isabelle and I are going to my office to see how much work has piled up while I’ve been away.”

“You probably don’t want to know,” Caitlin warned as she reached for the phone. “Don’t you want to go home for a while before you dive in?”

“I thought I would gather some things to take home with me. I can get some work done tonight after Isabelle’s asleep.”

“I’m not tired,” the child said quickly.

Nathan chuckled. “I didn’t say you have to go to bed now. I meant later.”

“Okay. Can I get down now?”

“Sure.” He set her on her feet.

Dressed in a purple-and-green-striped knit top with purple pants, her feet encased in impossibly tiny white sneakers, her blond curls tumbling almost to her shoulders, the child looked like a life-size porcelain doll. Caitlin couldn’t get over how lovely she was. Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe his family would be too captivated by the child to hold her parentage against her. Maybe.

Nathan held out his hand to Isabelle. “C’mon, poppet, let’s leave Miss Caitlin to her call. I’ll show you my office.”

Lifting the receiver to her ear and pushing the button for line two, Caitlin spoke absently into the mouthpiece, but her attention was focused on the twosome leaving her office. Stunned was hardly the word to describe her feelings at the thought of Nathan bringing a child home as casually as he would have adopted a puppy.

She couldn’t even imagine his family’s reaction to the development.

Okay, so he had been a little conniving.

Nathan knew very well that Caitlin had never intended to come home with him that evening, but when she had asked, as they were leaving the office, if there was anything she could do to help him out, he’d jumped on the offer so quickly and so fervently that she’d had no chance to back out.

He had assured her that he just needed a little help getting Isabelle set up in his home and had promised he wouldn’t keep Caitlin long. Almost before she’d realized what she had agreed to, they were in their cars, Caitlin following as Nathan drove home.

He glanced in the rearview mirror to check on Isabelle, who was belted into a toddler seat behind him on what passed for a back seat in his small car. He’d brought the toddler seat from California; decorated with Sesame Street characters, it was the one she’d used in Barbara Houston’s car. Nathan thought it was important for Isabelle to have as many familiar things around her as possible to make the transition easier, though she seemed to be adapting to the changes very well thus far.

“You doing okay back there?”

She had been looking out the side window, watching the passing scenery with the avid curiosity that was so characteristic of his baby sister. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror and she smiled. “I’m okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

He made a quick mental inventory of his pantry and refrigerator and winced. He didn’t have milk. No bread, either. Or peanut butter or fresh fruit or veggies or anything else a growing child needed. Maybe he could call for pizza or something tonight, but that would hardly work for breakfast tomorrow.

Making an impulsive decision, he switched on his turn signal and drove into the parking lot of a shopping center. Noting that Caitlin was still behind him, he parked in front of the supermarket at one end of the center. Caitlin parked beside him.

“I’m really glad you’re helping me this evening,” he said as soon as they were both out of their cars. “Grocery shopping isn’t one of my talents, I’m afraid, and I’m out of everything. You can help me choose the things I’ll need to keep on hand for Isabelle.”

Still looking a bit confused about how she had become his assistant for the evening, Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “You’re looking at someone who eats take-out for nearly every meal. My usual purchases are coffee, bagels and ice cream.”

“I like ice cream,” Isabelle commented, catching the end of Caitlin’s comment as she climbed out of Nathan’s car with his assistance.

“And I like ice cream, but we have to buy some healthy food, too.” Nathan took her hand. “Surely between the three of us we can gather the stuff to put together some healthy meals.”

“I’ll help you,” Isabelle offered. “I went to the grocery store all the time with Aunt Barb.”

Nathan smiled at Caitlin over the child’s head. “Sounds like we’ve got a shopping expert here to help us out.”

Caitlin fell into step beside them. “I’m sure we can use all the help we can get.”

Rows of silver metal shopping carts waited just inside the supermarket doorway. Nathan lifted Isabelle into one of the plastic seats, then grasped the handle and guided the cart toward the first aisle. Caitlin stayed close by, saying little but seeming agreeable to help with this necessary task.

They looked like a family.

The thought occurred to Nathan abruptly as he and Caitlin strolled down the aisle side by side, pushing Isabelle in front of them. And then, for the first time, he wondered what he would say if someone they knew saw them looking so cozy. He had known when he brought Isabelle home with him that explanations would be inevitable, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Maybe I should have talked to my mother before coming out in public like this,” he murmured to Caitlin, suddenly feeling as if eyes were focused on them from every direction.

“Maybe you should have thought of that sooner,” she replied, setting two jars of applesauce in the cart.

“Maybe we’ll get out of here without seeing anyone we know.”

The look she gave him was skeptical—and rightly so. Honesty wasn’t that big, and he had lived here all his life. He rarely stepped out of his house without running into at least one person he knew.

He drew a deep breath and concentrated on the shopping, hoping he wouldn’t be spotted by anyone likely to call his mother before he had the chance to talk to her.

Other than his concern about potentially awkward encounters, he might have enjoyed the shopping trip. Isabelle was delightfully serious about helping with the selection process. Caitlin was obviously, if reluctantly, charmed by the little girl—who wouldn’t be?—and she revealed a softer side of herself, one that she usually kept hidden at the office.

“Do you like cereal, Isabelle?” she asked, studying a dizzying array of colorful boxes.

“Yes. Cereal’s good for breakfast.”

Nathan reached for a chocolate-flavored puff cereal, figuring every kid must like that flavor. After all, it was the one he usually bought for himself.

“Not that one, Nate,” Isabelle admonished him. “Too much sugar.”

Caitlin laughed. Nathan placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head at his sister. “What brand would you recommend?”

Isabelle placed a fingertip against her rosy lips, studying the offerings. “That one,” she finally decided, pointing to a box of bite-size wheat squares. “I like those.”

Moving down the aisle, they added boxes of flavored instant oatmeal and bags of dried fruit to the cart, both heartily approved by Isabelle. The next aisle held cookies. “I suppose we need to pass these?” Nathan suggested. “Too sugary, right?”

Isabelle frowned. “We need some sweets,” she said earnestly. “A little doesn’t hurt.”

He grinned. “Just point to what you like.”

Isabelle happily selected a bag of chocolate chip cookies and some pink-frosted animal crackers. He’d have bought out the store at that point, if she’d asked, just because she was so darned cute.

He’d better be careful about that, he thought, or she just might get the idea that he was a soft touch.

Moving on to the canned goods, Nathan stood back and watched while Caitlin and Isabelle debated the relative merits of chicken noodle soup or chicken and stars. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling; they made a lovely picture as they focused so intently on the display of red and white cans.

His smile faded when he heard his name spoken from behind him. “Nathan? Is that you?”

His eyes closed in a spasm of emotion. Of all the rotten luck….

He turned. “Hello, Aunt Betty.”

She wasn’t actually his aunt, not by blood, anyway. She had been married to his father’s uncle, which made her his great-aunt by marriage. But she had never let such distinctions deter her. Betty McCloud enjoyed nothing more than bossing around the younger members of her late husband’s extended family.

A very large woman—nearly six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds—the seventy-five-year-old former loan officer had a voice like a bullhorn. Several nearby shoppers glanced their way when she asked loudly, “So, what’s up? Doing some grocery shopping?”

Resisting the impulse to make a smart-aleck remark to that very obvious question, Nathan merely nodded.

Betty’s attention had already turned to his companions. “The law partner, right? Kate?”

“Caitlin,” Nathan corrected her.

Caitlin’s smile was only slightly strained. “Hello, Mrs. McCloud. It’s nice to see you again.”

Her hawk-like eyes zeroing in on Isabelle, the older woman asked, “This your little girl? Didn’t know you had one. She’s a cutie.”

Uncertain how to respond, Caitlin looked at Nathan. “I, uh…”

It might not have been the noblest choice Nathan could have made, but he decided to take the easy way out. Escape.

“You know, it was great to see you, Aunt Betty, but we really have to hurry. I’ll call you soon and explain everything, okay?”

“Explain what?” she asked, frowning at him.

He merely smiled and pushed the cart so quickly away that Isabelle’s fine hair ruffled in the resulting breeze. Her eyes big, she gazed up at him. “Who was that?” she asked in a stage whisper.

“That was my great-aunt Betty. Yours, too, I guess.”

“She’s loud.”

Nathan nodded. “I know.”

“She thinks I’m Miss Caitlin’s little girl.”

Nathan avoided Caitlin’s eyes. “I know. I’ll explain to her later.”

“But why…?”

“What kind of fruit juice do you like, Isabelle?” Caitlin asked quickly.

Isabelle seemed to debate for a moment whether to continue her line of questioning or allow herself to be distracted. But then she conceded and requested apple juice.

Staying well ahead of Betty, Nathan practically jogged down the rest of the aisles, tossing food items into the cart until it nearly overflowed. He kept his eyes focused on the shelves, operating on the theory that if he didn’t see anyone else he knew, they wouldn’t see him, either.

Caitlin helped him pile his purchases on the conveyor belt at the cashier’s station. He paid the sizable bill with a bank debit card, then pushed the cart full of now-bagged groceries toward the parking lot. A golfing buddy hailed him just outside the door; Nathan waved and kept moving, successfully avoiding conversation.

“You have to talk to your mother,” Caitlin said as they reached their cars. “There’s no way you can keep this quiet for long.”

“I know.” He glanced into the back of his car, which was filled with his bags and Isabelle’s. “Think we can put some of these bags in your car? I’m not sure everything’s going to fit in mine.”

Caitlin hesitated a moment before opening the trunk of her Saturn. He wondered if she had considered parting from him here rather than accompanying him home. “If you have other plans for the evening, I’m sure Isabelle and I can manage by ourselves…..”

She sighed and reached for a bag of groceries. “No, I don’t have other plans. I’m happy to give you a hand this evening. We are partners, after all.”

Partners. Maybe she was trying to downplay the cozily intimate nature of their shopping expedition by reminding him of their business relationship. He couldn’t think of any other reason for her to bring it up. But he merely nodded, thanked her and helped her transfer the groceries to her car. He should probably feel at least a little guilty about shamelessly using her this way, but he needed her help too badly.

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