Fatherhood 101

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Fatherhood 101

Mae Nunn

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Fatherhood 101 (#ue5eec0a3-a68c-56cf-906b-35d333e46ed9)

Mae Nunn

MAE NUNN

grew up in Houston and graduated from the University of Texas with a degree in communications. When she fell for a transplanted Englishman living in Atlanta, she moved to Georgia and made an effort to behave like a Southern belle. But when she found that her husband was quite agreeable to life as a born-again Texan, Mae happily returned to her cowgirl roots and cowboy boots! In 2008 Mae retired from thirty years of corporate life to focus on her career as a full-time author.

“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” —Abraham Lincoln

This book is dedicated to you, Mama. You were my spiritual guide, my champion, my conscience and my example of a Proverbs 31 woman. I miss you so very much.

Wilma Ruth Holliday

February 6, 1929—September 18, 2003

CHAPTER ONE (#ue5eec0a3-a68c-56cf-906b-35d333e46ed9)

“CULLEN, IT’S TIME you stopped being the Texas version of Peter Pan and accepted some grown-up responsibility,” Dr. Blair Mastal insisted.

“I take umbrage with that statement,” Cullen Temple responded with an upward tilt of his chin that probably needed a shave, as usual.

Blair was a popular professor who’d been Cullen’s mentor and friend throughout his college career. And after several degrees in history, college truly had become Cullen’s career.

Blair was making a familiar point and it just happened to be shared by Cullen’s three brothers and everybody else who felt compelled to express an opinion on his obsession with higher education.

“Well, you can take umbrage all you want to as long as you take over my classes for the summer term.”

“I’m not a teacher,” Cullen protested. The very thought of being the one accountable for whether or not the students learned all the material in the syllabus caused gooseflesh to prickle the skin beneath his favorite flannel shirt. “I can’t replace you in the classroom, Blair.”

“That’s hogwash. You’ve stood in for me a hundred times over the past dozen or so years.”

“Standing in for a few days and stepping in for you forever are completely different. Besides, I don’t have a teaching degree―I’m not qualified.”

“The university wants a subject matter expert, not an educator. In that respect you are overqualified, but they’ll turn a blind eye if you’ll accept the contract, even on a trial basis.”

“My life is sublime just the way it is, thank you very much. Why would I complicate perfection?”

“How about the fact that you’re stuck in a rut about as low as a snake’s belly in a wagon wheel track? This building has been your home away from home for a dozen years. You’ve run out of degrees to earn. Consider shaking things up a bit.”

“I happen to enjoy being a student of history.”

“I’m not suggesting that you stop learning, but how about studying somebody alive for a change?”

“No way.” Cullen shook his head. “Folks who’ve been dead for hundreds of years are dependable, predictable. They’re not likely to up and leave you just when you start appreciating their company.”

“They’re also not going to keep you warm at night, or watch the Rangers game with you.”

Blair swatted the bill of Cullen’s baseball cap and it flopped down over his eyes. He ducked the fake punch his mentor always threatened to land on his jaw and adjusted his cap.

“Seriously, my friend,” Blair continued. “For a man of your advanced years you’re sorta one-dimensional.”

“Hey, I’m only thirty-four years old. I have my whole life ahead of me,” Cullen insisted.

“But when your daddy was thirty-four, his life was already half-over. If he were still alive I have a hunch he’d suggest that you give fewer hours to the people in our textbooks and more to the living, breathing folks right here on this campus.”

Much as the idea of teaching scared the heck out of Cullen, Blair’s guidance had always been sound. “I’ll sleep on it,” Cullen agreed finally.

“With your life experience, you’d be a good fit over in Longview Hall. You could help some people, give back to the community.”