The Family Plan. GINA WILKINS

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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

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