The Family Plan (The McClouds of Mississippi 1)

Caitlin smiled wryly. “I’ve been busy, I’m afraid. And so have you, I hear. How’s preschool?”

“It’s good. I’ve got a new friend. Her name is Kelsey. And I like Jessica and Tiffany and Justin, too, but I don’t like Danny, because he pulls my hair and says I got holes in my face. I told him he’s stupid because he doesn’t know the difference between holes and dimples, and he pulled my hair again! So I said I wouldn’t be his friend, and then he pouted like a baby.”

Caitlin followed the breathless diatribe with some difficulty, giving Nathan a quizzical look over the top of Isabelle’s head. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, except a lame, “I’m glad you’re making new friends.”

Nathan stepped forward and laid a sheet of yellow construction paper on the desk in front of her. “Isabelle made this for you at school.”

She smiled when she studied the gift. It was an endearingly lopsided crayon drawing of a woman with a big red smile, glued-on brown yarn hair, and clothes fashioned from mismatched scraps of fabric, ribbons and buttons.

“It’s a picture of you, Miss Caitlin,” Isabelle said earnestly.

“It’s lovely.” Caitlin touched a fingertip to one flyaway twist of yarn hair. “Thank you, Isabelle, I’ll treasure this.”

Nathan hefted the bulging purple backpack he carried higher on one arm. “Come on, poppet, Miss Caitlin’s busy. Let’s go set up your toys in my office and you can play while I catch up on some correspondence.”

“I brought my travel dollhouse,” Isabelle informed Caitlin. “It’s got furniture and a family and a car and a little dog and a cat. Nate bought it for me at the toy store. You want to see it?”

“It sounds really cool. I’ll come see it in a little while, okay?”

“Okay.” Isabelle bustled out of the room, obviously eager to play with her new toy.

Nathan lingered in the doorway for a m

oment. “She wasn’t able to bring many toys with her from California. I didn’t think it would hurt to buy her a few new things occasionally.”

“Neither do I,” she replied with lifted eyebrows. “And there’s certainly no need to justify your purchases to me.”

He smiled wryly. “Maybe I’m just seeking reassurance. I’m sort of playing this by ear, you know.”

“And you seem to be doing just fine.”

“Thanks.” He glanced at the pile of documents on the desk in front of her. “I won’t disturb you any longer. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

Caitlin glared in frustration at the doorway after he left. Because of her pervasive thoughts of Nathan, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on work before the interruption. Now that she was so aware of Nathan and Isabelle only a couple of rooms away, she was afraid concentration would be even more difficult—if not impossible.

Her work had always been so important to her, taking precedence over nearly everything else. The pursuit of career success had been her one driving ambition since she was ten years old. Already tired of living in an endless series of dilapidated trailers and apartments while her good-hearted but impractical father had drifted from one dead-end job to another, she had decided that her future would be different.

Studying the parents of her classmates, she had determined that a solid career was the best measure of security and stability. Her father had reinforced that belief, telling her repeatedly that she had the opportunity to make something more of herself than he had accomplished in his own life.

It hadn’t been easy. Lacking family resources, she had funded her college education with scholarships, grants and a series of jobs. Her father—overweight and a heavy smoker—had died of a heart attack three months after her college graduation. Her mother, who had always struggled with high blood pressure, had suffered her stroke during Caitlin’s second year of law school and had never recovered from the massive brain damage. Had Caitlin been easily distracted or discouraged, she never would have made it this far.

So why was she having so much trouble now, when everything had been going so well? What was it about Nathan that he could slip past emotional barriers that no other man had been able to bypass? A couple of guys had tried, but she had never been swayed from her ultimate goal—full partnership in a solid, secure, successful practice. Maybe here in Honesty with Nathan or perhaps in an older, larger firm somewhere else.

Because of her mother’s condition, it was convenient for now to be here, only an hour’s drive from the nursing home, but she was still open to offers. She had always believed she was free to pick up and leave at any time, with proper notification to her partner, of course, and suitable arrangements for her mother. She wasn’t at all comfortable with the sensation that insidious little tendrils were twining around her ankles—or her heart, perhaps?—making her feel that it wouldn’t be as easy to leave this place as she had previously believed.

She was fully aware of the contradictions in her emotional reasoning; the almost-obsessive need to be free to leave even as she worked ceaselessly toward long-term security. Maybe a psychologist could analyze that dichotomy; she simply accepted it as a result of her childhood experiences. She was as afraid of emotional bonds as she was of career obstacles.

Nathan and Isabelle definitely represented at least one of those fears.

As if to recall her attention to matters at hand, one of the documents on her desk ruffled in a gust of temperature-controlled air from a ceiling vent. Great, she thought with a scowl. Now she’d drifted off into philosophical soul searching instead of the painstaking scrutiny of property descriptions.

Vowing to be more productive for the rest of the day, she directed her attention fully to the papers in front of her.

Chapter Nine

Caitlin managed to work uninterrupted for another hour. After making a final note on the yellow legal pad in front of her, she closed the case file. Might as well take a break, she thought, stretching casually.

Maybe she would pop into Nathan’s office for a couple of minutes. She had promised Isabelle she would look at her dollhouse. It would be rude not to follow through on that promise.