“How could you do this?” Lenore asked hoarsely.
“Is Deborah my sister?” Isabelle wanted to know, obviously recognizing the reference from things Nathan had told her.
Caitlin quickly reached out to lay her hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “Isabelle and I were just leaving. Nathan, we’ll see you later.”
“Right.” He reached out to lightly pat Isabelle’s cheek. “Be good for Miss Caitlin, okay, poppet?”
“I will. See you, Nate. ’Bye, Nate’s mom.”
Caitlin could see Lenore struggling with a response. She wasn’t a cruel woman, but this had to be extremely difficult for her. Finally she nodded and muttered, “Goodbye.”
Apparently content with the terse response, Isabelle reached out to take Caitlin’s hand. “We’re going to get a purple bedspread now.”
Caitlin touched Nathan’s arm as she passed him on the way out—a subtle gesture of support and encouragement. She hadn’t been looking forward to this excursion, but she would rather shop with a busload of preschoolers than be in Nathan’s shoes right now.
Caitlin’s car was loaded to near bulging by the time she returned to Nathan’s house. She and Isabelle hadn’t quite bought out the local department store, but they had certainly given it their best shot. Shopping wasn’t one of Caitlin’s usual passions, and she had never spent more than a few minutes at a time in the company of small children, but she enjoyed the outing more than she had expected.
Maybe it was because this particular small child was different from most.
Caitlin had run into a few people she knew, of course. To avoid any problems, she had introduced Isabelle simply as her “young friend,” without mentioning Nathan’s name. The truth would get out soon enough. She only hoped Isabelle wouldn’t have to suffer because of it.
To give Nathan plenty of time, they’d had lunch out. Caitlin believed children should be exposed to good food and nice surroundings early, so she eschewed the usual fast-food places and selected one of her favorite tearooms, instead.
Proving that the previous adults in Isabelle’s life had subscribed to Caitlin’s philosophy, Isabelle displayed very nice manners as she and Caitlin dined on soup and sandwiches. Sitting in a booster seat provided by the restaurant, a snowy napkin draped over her lap, Isabelle thoroughly charmed the staff and the other diners with her contagious smiles and precocious conversation.
“She reminds me of Shirley Temple,” an older woman at an adjoining table informed Caitlin. “Those big blue eyes and sweet little dimples—and the way she behaves. So poised and polite for a child her age.”
Uncertain how to respond—since she, of course, had had nothing to do with Isabelle’s manners—Caitlin smiled and murmured something inaudible.
She drove straight back to Nathan’s house after they finished the ice cream they had ordered for dessert. Surely enough time had passed that it would be safe to go back, she reasoned.
Excited about the prospect of decorating her room, Isabelle practically bounced in the safety seat Caitlin had borrowed from Nathan. The little girl babbled a mile a minute. Fortunately the only responses required were a few nods and murmurs. Caitlin was becoming increasingly distracted by her concern about what had transpired between Nathan and his mother.
“Is Nate’s mom still here?” Isabelle asked as Caitlin parked in the driveway.
“No, her car’s gone,” Caitlin replied with some relief.
“She was sad.”
The quiet comment surprised Caitlin. It was the first time Isabelle had mentioned Lenore since they’d left earlier. She had assumed the child had already forgotten the brief encounter. “What makes you think that?”
“Her eyes were sad. I think she was nice, though.”
“She can be very nice,” Caitlin agreed, though she didn’t want to say much more. She didn’t know if Isabelle would ever even see Lenore again. “Let’s get Nathan to help us carry all this stuff in.”
“We got a bunch of stuff,” Isabelle commented happily, looking at all the packages piled around her—not to mention the ones squeezed into the trunk, Caitlin thought.
“Yes, we do.” Reminding herself that Nathan had encouraged her to buy whatever Isabelle wanted, she helped the child out of the car and held her hand as they walked to the front door.
Though Nathan was smiling when he opened the door, the expression in his eyes made Caitlin’s breath lodge painfully in her chest.
“Well?” he asked. “Do I have any money left?”
“Nathan—”
He cut off her concerned question with a quick, “Later.” And then he focused on Isabelle. “So, did you find anything you like?”
The child immediately launched into a breathless monologue, listing not only everything they had purchased that morning, but also nearly everything else they’d seen. Responding with apparent fascination, Nathan helped them carry in boxes and packages, hauling everything straight to Isabelle’s room.