The Mummy Proposal. Cathy Gillen Thacker

and muttered, “I guess it’ll be okay. Can I be in the same group as Cole?” The director nodded.

      Nate filled out the paperwork, wrote a sizable check and said goodbye to Landry. Then he headed for downtown Fort Worth, and the weekly meeting with his four business partners at One Trinity River Place.

      Knowing the four guys would have invaluable advice to offer, since they were all experienced parents, Nate filled the group in on everything that had happened the last few days, starting with Jessalyn’s phone call and the letter from her late granddaughter, Seraphina.

      “Time helps,” Travis Carson said, with the expertise of a widower who had shepherded his own two daughters through the demise of their mother.

      “In the meantime … I have to agree with your lawyer,” Grady McCabe told Nate seriously. “You are jumping the gun a bit, deciding to adopt Landry before the two of you have had a chance to develop any real rapport. The promise may not ring true to him.”

      Nate respected Grady’s inherent ability to look at the big picture. Not just in the skyscrapers and other mixed-use development projects they built, but in their personal lives, too.

      Dan Kingsland added matter-of-factly, “I know you’ve already hired Brooke Mitchell….”

      Nodding, Nate was glad he’d had the foresight to bring her on board. She was the one ray of sunshine in his chaotic life right now.

      “But redecorating your house just highlights the fact you’re going to have to make a lot of changes to take Landry in,” Dan continued. “I can’t say how he would respond to that, since I’ve never met him, but I know my three kids would interpret it to mean they’re a burden.”

      Jack Gaines added, “The faster change occurs, the harder it is to accept.”

      Nate knew Jack and his daughter had just weathered a lot of upheaval due to a hasty wedding in their family. But that had worked out okay in the end, too. “I have faith Brooke Mitchell will be able to pull this off,” he told his friends.

      “The home makeover, sure,” Grady said. “Everyone knows Brooke can work miracles in that regard. That’s why her services are in such high demand.”

      “But she’s not going to be there two weeks from now when the task is finished,” Dan cautioned.

      “At that point,” Travis interjected, “you have got to be prepared to parent solo. And the rest of us know from experience that is one of the hardest things to do.”

      But it could be done, Nate thought, as the meeting concluded and he headed home to confer with Brooke over the lunch hour. All he needed were a few more tips and parental insights from her to get Landry moving in the right direction. After that happened, Nate was confident that the tension in his household would fade.

      When he drove in the front gates, he expected to see the cleaning van on its way out, not furniture dotting the lawn. Nor a Cadillac next to Brooke’s van, with a faculty parking sticker for a local university prominently displayed. Curious, Nate walked across the lawn, hearing the voices as he rounded the house.

      “You gave me no choice,” the bearded, white-haired man said. “You’ve been ducking my calls.”

      “I had hoped,” Brooke said archly, “that would be enough for you to get the message.”

      The elderly man countered, “You and Cole have to be at the publication party for Seamus’s book.”

      Wary of intruding, but not about to leave Brooke to fend for herself if help was needed, Nate reluctantly stayed where he was and continued listening in.

      “If you and Cole don’t show up, people will start asking questions.”

      “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Brooke’s voice rang with contempt. “We wouldn’t want anything to reflect poorly on the university!”

      “We were protecting you and Cole.”

      “While turning a blind eye? If you had wanted to help, you should have let me know what was going on, long before that night.”

      “Brooke …” The gentleman held out a hand in entreaty.

      She glared. “You have to leave.”

      He pushed a book and what looked to be some sort of engraved invitation into her hands. “Not before you agree to attend the party.”

      Her expression distraught, Brooke backed away.

      Enough was enough. Nate walked briskly around the landscaped swimming pool toward the caretaker’s cottage. He extended a hand toward the bearded man. “Nate Hutchinson. And you’re …?”

      “Professor Phineas Rylander, from the university where Brooke’s husband taught. I was just inviting her to a pre-publication party that the English department is giving for her late husband, Seamus. It’s his last work and we are very happy to be able to promote his collection of poetry. Naturally, we want Brooke and her son to attend.”

      Brooke pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I don’t think it’s going to be possible.”

      Professor Rylander refused to give up. “I beg you to reconsider.”

      Nate clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for stopping by.”

      “I—” the man began.

      “I’ll walk you to your Cadillac.”

      Reluctantly, the professor assented. Nate escorted him out, waited until he drove away, then returned to Brooke. She was sitting on one of the half-dozen pieces of mismatched furniture that had been moved to the lawn outside the cottage. She had the book and the invitation in her hands, and was staring down at the photo on the jacket cover.

      Nate followed the direction of her gaze.

      Seamus Mitchell had been handsome and distinguished. Yet Brooke was regarding the photo with utter loathing and contempt. Not exactly the reaction Nate would have expected. “Are you okay?”

      She rose with quiet dignity. “No, I’m not,” she said frankly. “And you know why?” Bitterness underscored her every syllable. “Because I know what it feels like to be betrayed by a loved one, too!”