Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi) (16 page)

He thought about it a minute, then nodded. “I can tell her that stuff, but I would have thought she already knew it.”

“Maybe she simply needs reassurance that her father wasn’t a bad man, and that your mother was looking forward to having Isabelle with her this week. And you should remind her again that your parents’ divorce and your father’s remarriage is no one else’s business.” She couldn’t keep the indignation out of her voice when she added the latter.

“You can bet I’ll tell her that.”

“The only thing I don’t understand is why other people are so vicious about the divorce. I’m sure there was some gossip at the time, but it’s not as if divorce is all that uncommon, even around here, surely.”

“It is when a gubernatorial candidate leaves his wife and family for a pregnant campaign volunteer half his age.”

“Good lord.” She stared at him. “Your father was a candidate for governor?”

He nodded grimly. “Probably would have won, if he’d have kept his pants zipped for a few more months. He was ahead in the polls, a real favorite of the media.”

“You father was almost governor of Mississippi.” She was stunned that she hadn’t heard about this before, but then, she hadn’t really talked to many locals during her time here. She had been focused almost entirely on Gideon and Isabelle.

He massaged the back of his neck. “Needless to say, the people who had donated countless hours of their time and generous chunks of their paychecks to support his campaign were not happy with him for throwing it all away so late in the game. His party had to scramble to find a replacement candidate—who lost, by the way—and the media had a field day with the gossip. My mother was humiliated, my sister was devastated and many of the locals acted as betrayed as his family felt. It was fairly ugly.”

He had never sounded more lazily Southern, which meant, she decided, that he was hiding a great deal of emotion behind that detached drawl. “I’m sorry, Gideon. That must have been a horrible time for all of you.”

Looking away, he shrugged one shoulder. “We got through it. It wasn’t as hard for me as it was the others, I think, because I was already estranged from my father. And already accustomed to being the subject of local gossip.”

She didn’t entirely believe him. His father’s defection had probably been just as hard for Gideon. He had spent all those years struggling in vain to fit an image of perfection outlined by a man who had been revealed to have major weaknesses of his own. And then Stuart had died before Gideon could resolve any of the issues between them.

How many times had he mentally said goodbye to his father prior to that last, final farewell? And had he grieved each time or had the estrangement been a series of blows that had left permanent scars on his heart?

Because she knew he would resist any offers of sympathy concerning his father, she concentrated on Isabelle instead. “There are people in this town who still harbor so much resentment against Isabelle’s parents that they would reject an innocent child?”

“Frankly, I was concerned about that when Nathan brought her here. I knew she would hear the gossip eventually, though I never thought it would come this soon. Most of the townspeople took their cues from my mother. At first she was violently opposed to Nathan taking Isabelle in. I think she saw it as a betrayal of his loyalty to her—a painful reminder that he hadn’t cut Dad off after the divorce, the way the rest of us had. She worried that Nathan was making too great a sacrifice by taking responsibility for Isabelle. At the time, Nathan and Caitlin hadn’t become an item yet, and Mom thought Nathan would be raising Isabelle on his own, which he seemed perfectly willing to do.”

“I don’t suppose he felt as though he had any other choice.”

“Actually, he gave some thought to putting her up for adoption when her guardian in California was no longer able to care for her. At the time there seemed to be few other options, and Nathan wasn’t sure he was qualified to take her. But when it came right down to decision time, he couldn’t give her up.”

Just the thought of little Isabelle being turned over to strangers made Adrienne’s stomach clench. “Of course he couldn’t. You would have made the same decision.”

Gideon looked a bit surprised. “I don’t know about that.”

Glancing toward the empty doorway, Adrienne lowered her voice. “Be honest, Gideon. If you had to make a choice right now of taking full responsibility for your sister or giving her up to strangers, never to see her again, you would make the same choice your brother made.”

Obviously, his first instinct was to disagree. She watched as the realization slowly hit him that she was probably right. Now that he had spent time with Isabelle, had grown to know her and care about her, he wouldn’t find it easy to walk away from her.

He wouldn’t like admitting—even to himself—that he’d let his little sister become that important to him. Gideon seemed to view love as a bond and he allowed very few people to have that sort of tie to him. Maybe that was why he’d backed off so quickly after kissing
her
—not that the kiss had had anything to do with love, she added quickly. He simply didn’t welcome any emotional entanglements, even…well, whatever had spurred that kiss.

“Go talk to her,” she urged, concentrating once more on the problem at hand. “Tell her she
is
wanted here. You don’t have to go into details if you think that should be left to Nathan, but at least make her feel like she belongs.”

Looking as though he would rather endure a root canal, he shoved a hand through his hair. “Go with me.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk to her in private? This is family business, after all.”

“It’s not as if there are any secrets left,” he said impatiently. “Come talk to her with me. She’s attached to you, and I don’t always make myself clear.”

If her presence would make this difficult conversation easier for him, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt for her to sit quietly in the background.

Isabelle was curled on the couch when they entered the den, but she wasn’t watching television. She held a book instead.
Green Eggs and Ham,
by Dr. Seuss, Adrienne noted. She had already learned that it was Isabelle’s favorite book. Adrienne fully identified with turning to a favorite book for comfort during times of stress. She had been doing so for most of her life.

She took the chair farthest from the couch, settling silently into it while Gideon perched awkwardly next to Isabelle. “About what those jerk kids said to you—”

“You mean Danny and Bryson?” she asked.

“Yeah. Danny and Bryson.” He practically spat the names.

“What about them?”

“They’re full of beans.”

His blunt assessment made Isabelle smile a little. “That sounds funny.”

“It means they were wrong. Nathan and Caitlin and Nanna and I aren’t sorry you’re here in Honesty with us. You’re a McCloud, and we take care of our own.”

Adrienne swallowed a sigh. What made this man who possessed such an amazing mastery of words on paper come across so stilted and awkward in face-to-face conversations? He sounded as though he were quoting a family-loyalty speech from one of those old TV Westerns.

Isabelle gazed up at her brother with a puzzled look puckering her little face. “Was my daddy really a bad man?”

Adrienne held her breath while Gideon mentally debated his answer.

“No,” he said. “Your father wasn’t a bad man. He made some mistakes, and he made a few people mad, but he wasn’t bad. And I know he was crazy about you.”

Adrienne smiled at him to show her approval of his choice of words. He gave her a brusque nod, then turned his attention back to Isabelle.

“How did he make people mad?”

There was another pause before he answered again. “You’ll hear more details about that later. Let’s just say there were some hard feelings when he and my mother broke up. But Mom doesn’t blame you for anything, Isabelle.”

“Nanna doesn’t wish I wasn’t here?”

“Nanna is very happy you’re here,” he replied firmly. “She thinks of you as her first grandchild.”

Isabelle thought about that for a moment, then looked at Adrienne, as if seeking a second opinion.

“If Gideon says it, you know you can believe it,” Adrienne assured her. “Gideon doesn’t tell polite fibs.”

Even a four-year-old had to concede that. Isabelle nodded solemnly. “Gideon isn’t very polite.”

Adrienne tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Gideon looked so befuddled, as if he weren’t quite sure whether he’d just been complimented or insulted.

Isabelle looked up at him through her long eyelashes. “I like you, anyway,” she said, just in case she had hurt his feelings.

His expression became even odder then, and Adrienne thought he might have been touched by Isabelle’s innocent sincerity. “Er, thanks,” he said, typically brusque. “Now, what about school today? Are you going to let a couple of jerks keep you away, or are you going to let them see that the McClouds don’t care what anyone says about them?”

Isabelle hugged her book more tightly. “You think I should go?”

“Yeah, I think you should go. If you don’t, Danny and that other creep are going to think you believe all that bull—er, garbage they said to you. And you don’t, right? You believed what I told you instead.”

Isabelle nodded. “But I’d be late if I went today, wouldn’t I?”

He glanced at his watch. “Only a few minutes late. I’ll go in with you and tell Miss Thelma that it’s my fault we’re late. She’ll believe that, trust me.”

“C’mon, Isabelle, I’ll help you get ready,” Adrienne offered, rising to her feet. “You have friends at school that you like, don’t you? Kelsey and Jessica and Justin?”

She remembered those names from earlier conversations. Gideon, who probably hadn’t remembered any of them, looked a bit impressed when Isabelle nodded. “Those are my best friends. And Tiffany.”

“Good. Then you play with your friends who like you because of who you are and ignore the ones who choose to be mean just to make other people feel bad. There will always be people who are nice and people who aren’t. The trick is to be one of the nice ones and stay away from the mean ones as much as possible.”

Isabelle dimpled up at Adrienne as she took her hand. “You’re one of the nice ones,” she said sweetly.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Adrienne smiled. “So are you, sweetie.”

She glanced at Gideon, who was watching them with an expression she couldn’t read. “We’ll be right back,” she told him.

He nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Something in his voice made her look at him again, but there was no clue to his feelings on his face. Feeling him watching her, she led Isabelle out of the room.

Gideon seemed to have had his fill of other people that morning. He headed for his office the minute he returned from taking Isabelle to school, and Adrienne sensed he didn’t plan to come out again until it was time to return for her.

She moved quickly to detain him before he could close the door between them. “How did it go? Did Isabelle seem okay about staying?”

Though he looked impatient, he paused long enough to answer. “She was fine. One of her friends came running up to welcome her back and that seemed to please her.”

He took another step toward his office, and she moved in front of him to ask one more question. “Did you speak to Miss Thelma about what happened?”

“Briefly.”

“How did that go?”

“She said she would keep an out eye for any kids who seem to be giving Isabelle a hard time. Miss Thelma said she had been concerned when Nathan first admitted Isabelle that there would be problems because of the old scandals, but she thought that had been resolved when my mother publicly acknowledged Isabelle. Thelma seems genuinely fond of Isabelle, and I think she’ll watch out for her.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“It was a civil meeting. I managed not to lose my temper, even though I still think she’s a stuffy old biddy.”

Adrienne smiled. “Then, I’m very proud of you.”

He hesitated a moment longer, his gaze on her mouth. She felt her smile fading.

Moving suddenly and without warning, he reached out, snagged the back of her neck and planted a firm kiss on her lips. “Thanks for your help this morning,” he said when he released her. “Now I have to get back to work.”

Before she could respond, he disappeared into his office, leaving her staring rather stupidly after him. After a moment she made an effort to close her mouth and pull herself together.

Perhaps she had better concentrate on
her
work for a while, she decided. She was getting a bit too involved with this particular client; she needed to focus on her others for a few hours. She needed to be reminded that her life was in New York, not here, and that she would be returning there very soon.

Setting up her computer in his kitchen, she spread the contents of her briefcase on the table, turned on her freshly charged cell phone and settled in for a productive work session. And then she simply sat and stared at her computer screen, paying no attention to the words there.

Her mind was filled with an image of Gideon sitting on the couch beside Isabelle, gruffly assuring the child that the McClouds “take care of their own.” That touching image—along with the lingering feel of his lips pressed against her—was enough to keep her distracted from work for most of the morning.

Chapter Ten

I
sabelle returned from school smiling. Her friends had rallied around her, making her feel welcome among them again, and she’d had a good day, which she shared in detail with Adrienne. Gideon had returned to his office, and Adrienne had set Isabelle at the kitchen table with a glass of juice and some sliced fruit for an after-school snack.

“And
then,
” Isabelle babbled with hardly a pause for breath, “Miss Montgomery said Danny had to sit in the time-out corner because he wouldn’t be good during story time. He kept punching Benjamin’s arm and then he laughed when Benjamin said it hurt.”

“Danny sounds like a brat,” Adrienne commented, wondering what kind of parents allowed their child to behave that way.