Faith, Hope and Family. Gina Wilkins
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of the family—even Gideon, surprisingly enough—Deborah had no desire to form a close relationship with Isabelle. She simply wasn’t comfortable with children, she told herself—particularly this one.
She had just finished her coffee when the doorbell rang. Lenore hurried to answer it, leaving Deborah to follow somewhat reluctantly. Caitlin, Deborah noted with a searching look at her sister-in-law’s face, was sad, but composed, having resigned herself to this inevitability when her mother had suffered a massive stroke nearly two years ago. Nathan was a bit more subdued than usual, but his smile was still warm when he looked down at the blue-eyed and blond cherub clinging to his hand.
Deborah had been told several times that four-year-old Isabelle was the image of herself at the same age. She’d never known exactly how to respond to the observation, though she acknowledged the family resemblance. Dark-haired, green-eyed Gideon was the only one of Stuart McCloud’s four offspring who hadn’t inherited their father’s bright blue eyes and golden hair. Despite common acceptance that dark hair and eyes tended to be dominant, Deborah had never been surprised that Stuart’s genes had been as forceful and assertive as his personality. Nor did it seem odd to her that Gideon had been the one who was different even from conception.
She stepped toward Caitlin when Lenore moved away to speak to Isabelle. “I’m very sorry about your mother.”
Caitlin squeezed Deborah’s hand. “Thank you. I said goodbye to my mother a long time ago, of course, but I’ll still miss my weekly visits with her at the nursing home, even if I doubt she ever knew I was there.”
“Maybe she was aware you were there, but just couldn’t let you know.”
“Maybe some part of her did know me. It was that possibility that kept me going back every week.”
Nathan slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’ll be back in town in a few days,” he told Deborah. “I hope we’ll be able to spend a little time together before you take off again.”
Family was extremely important to Nathan. Deborah knew that if it were up to him, he would keep everyone nearby where he could personally make sure they were all safe and happy. He would never fully understand Deborah’s need to keep moving, content to live almost anywhere except the town where they had grown up.
Fifteen minutes later, Nathan and Caitlin were on their way. Thinking she would spend most of the day in the study with some correspondence and paperwork she needed to deal with, leaving Lenore and Isabelle to entertain each other, Deborah turned toward her mother. Lenore was checking her watch.
“I’ll need to leave in ten minutes or I’ll be late for my meeting,” she said before Deborah could speak. “Isabelle, dear, I’ll be out for a couple of hours, but you’ll be fine here with Deborah.”
Deborah cleared her throat somewhat loudly. “Um, Mother—”
“There’s no need for you to worry about cooking lunch,” Lenore rushed on, seemingly oblivious to the silent signals her daughter was trying to send her. “I’ll pick up something on the way home.”
“But, Mother—”
“I really must go,” Lenore said firmly, her expression making it clear that she had received Deborah’s signals but wasn’t letting them deter her from her plans. “I’m the chair of this committee, and this is a very important meeting. Since you’re here, anyway, there’s really no reason you can’t keep an eye on your sister for a couple of hours.”
All too aware that Isabelle was watching the exchange with wide eyes and a somber expression, Deborah forced a faint smile. “Okay, sure,” she conceded. “We’ll be fine here during your meeting, won’t we, Isabelle?”
The child nodded. “I’ll be good, Nanna,” she promised.
Lenore lightly patted the little girl’s head. “I know you will, dear. You always are.” And then she pointed a finger at Deborah. “You be good, too.”
Isabelle giggled.
Deborah gave another stiff smile. “I’ll certainly try.”
It seemed very quiet in Lenore’s house after her whirlwind departure. Deborah glanced at the little girl gazing expectantly back at her and wondered what on earth she was supposed to do now.
How had this happened? She’d come here to attend her brother’s wedding and then spend a few days with her mother. She had certainly never planned on this!
“So, um, what do you usually do on Saturdays?” she asked.
Isabelle shrugged. “Different things. We shop or go to movies or to the playground. Sometimes we go to the dog store.”
“The, um, dog store?”
Isabelle nodded, golden curls bobbing. “To buy things for Fluffy-Spike, our dog. He’s a bichon. Mrs. T. is going to feed him until Nate and Caitlin get back home.”
Deborah knew who Mrs. T. was—the indispensable Fayrene Tuckerman, who served as housekeeper, cook and daytime nanny in Nathan’s busy household. But… “Did you say Fluffy-Spike?”
Isabelle giggled again. “I wanted to name him Fluffy and Nate kept calling him Spike because he thought it was a funny name for a little white dog, so now we call him Fluffy-Spike. That’s funny, isn’t it?”
It was the sort of name one would expect for a dog belonging to Nathan, Deborah thought with a shake of her head. Her impulsive and often irrepressible eldest brother had rarely been accused of being predictable. He’d taken his little sister into his home as casually and impetuously as he had the recently adopted dog.
Isabelle had always called her older brother Nate. Lenore had told Deborah that there had been some discussion prior to Nathan’s wedding of Isabelle calling Caitlin and Nathan Mom and Dad, since they would be raising her as their own, but that hadn’t felt right to any of them. They had finally decided there was no reason Isabelle shouldn’t call her brother and sister-in-law by their first names, though she was expected to obey them with the same respect she would have given her own parents.
It would be a casual, laughter-filled household, Deborah predicted. And yet there would be order, thanks to the briskly efficient housekeeper and to Caitlin, who was much more structured and organized than Nathan. Still, Deborah had been rather surprised by how well Nathan had adjusted to parenthood. He definitely indulged Isabelle, but stopped short of outright spoiling her. Deborah had heard him speak firmly to his little sister on a couple of rare occasions when she had needed correcting.
Deborah had no such confidence in her own child-care skills. She didn’t have a clue what to do with the kid for the rest of the morning, for example.
Gossip traveled quickly through Honesty, and Dylan heard most of it courtesy of his aunt Myra, wife of his uncle, Owen Smith, the town’s police chief. Myra could hardly wait to phone Dylan with the news that Nathan and Caitlin McCloud had been called out of town, leaving Lenore and Deborah to watch little Isabelle. Rumor had it that Deborah was baby-sitting that day while Lenore went about her usual busy Saturday schedule.
“I’m surprised Deborah agreed,” Myra added. “She never forgave her father, you know, and most folks said she was pretty mad at her brother for bringing that little girl back here.”
Dylan had no intention of discussing Deborah or her family with his aunt, who was well aware of the history between them. “Was there anything else you needed from me? Because I go back on duty in an hour and I—”
“No, that was all.” Myra sounded disappointed that he hadn’t risen to her gossip bait. “I just thought you would want to know what’s going on with Deborah.”
“It’s really none of my business. I lost interest in the McClouds a long time ago, Aunt Myra.”
It was a bald-faced lie, of course, he mused as he replaced the receiver in its cradle a few moments later. Though he’d made a massive effort to get over her, Deborah was the one McCloud who still