The Family Plan. GINA WILKINS

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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….

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