The Family Plan Page 3
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…”
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.