Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi) by Gina Wilkins Page A

fond of his little sister. He just hoped this newest problem wouldn’t prove to be a total catastrophe.
     
    Adrienne was relieved that Isabelle seemed to perk up a bit during the excellent dinner Gideon had prepared for them. Though Isabelle only picked at the food at first, she seemed to quickly decide that she liked it. She ate enough to satisfy Adrienne and Gideon, then finished the meal with a small brownie and another half glass of milk.

    “That was really good, Gideon,” she said when she’d finished.
    Her brother set his tea glass on the table. “Glad you liked it.”
    “You’re a better cook than Nate. He mostly opens cans or orders out. Mrs. T.’s a good cook, though.”
    “Mrs. T. is Nathan’s housekeeper, Fayrene Tuckerman,” Gideon said for Adrienne’s benefit.
    She could tell he was amused by Isabelle’s comparison of his cooking to his brother’s. “Does your brother’s new wife cook?” she asked Isabelle.
    The child frowned. “I don’t know. Mrs. T. cooks for all of us.”
    Once again Gideon elucidated. “Caitlin is Nathan’s law partner. They’re both fine lawyers, but domestic chores aren’t high on their priority lists.”
    Unlike Gideon, Adrienne mused. She had already figured out that he did all his own housework. He was much too independent to rely on anyone for his needs—not even a housekeeper.
    She wondered for a moment if a couple of busy lawyers had time to be good guardians for Isabelle, but she remembered that Gideon had said the three of them adored each other. Isabelle certainly seemed attached to her oldest brother and his new wife.
    It was silly of Adrienne to suddenly feel a bit proprietary toward the child. Protective. Of all the adults involved in Isabelle’s life, she had the least right to question any arrangements for Isabelle’s care.
    Encouraged by the little girl’s improving mood, Adrienne asked what was planned for preschool the next day. Keeping her eyes on her brownie, Isabelle replied quietly, “I’m not going to school tomorrow.”

    Glancing at Gideon, Adrienne raised her eyebrows. “You’re not?”
    “No. I don’t want to.”
    Apparently, she had stumbled onto a clue to Isabelle’s odd behavior. “Did something happen at school today?”
    Isabelle shrugged.
    Adrienne tried again. “Did your teacher say something to upset you? Or one of your classmates?”
    Isabelle’s lower lip poked out. “I don’t want to talk about school.”
    Adrienne backed off. She didn’t know how to push any harder without further upsetting Isabelle. Maybe Gideon could get more out of her.
    But Gideon had no more luck than Adrienne had. Just questioning Isabelle about school set off pouts and, eventually, tears. The first teardrop caused Gideon to retreat, leaving Adrienne to soothe the child, dry her eyes and take her off to bathe her, tuck her into bed and read her a soothingly silly bedtime story.
    Only when she was sure Isabelle was asleep did Adrienne rejoin Gideon in the den, where she found him pacing and running his hands through his already disordered hair.
    “You need to get off that foot,” he said curtly when she entered. “You’re limping badly. Are you in pain?”
    “It’s not too bad,” she said, then sank gratefully onto the couch. Her leg was throbbing all the way to her hip, though she had no intention of saying so. Gideon had enough to worry about.
    He resumed his pacing. “What do you suppose happened at school today?”
    “Probably she got into a squabble with another child. That’s fairly common in preschool, I think. It will blow over.”

    “And in the meantime? Do I make her go to school tomorrow even if she’s kicking and screaming in protest?”
    Adrienne spread her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t suppose it would hurt her to miss a day of preschool, but that wouldn’t solve her problems, either.”
    “I’m not sure I can make her go if she cries and pleads.”
    Adrienne nodded in empathy. “I’m not sure I could,