The Holiday Nanny (16 page)

“Let her know that she comes from a family that loves. Whatever was between you and Wade is the past. Let it go. He needs it as much as you.”

“Do you think so?” Amanda's eyes widened. “We used to be close, but—”

“You need to be again,” Connie insisted. “There's a whole future to deal with now, and Silver is going to need both of you.”

Amanda studied her and then finally nodded.

“Yes, Silver is what's important. Most of my anger at
Wade was because he found a new wife and baby and I had nothing.”

“Not nothing,” Connie corrected with a smile. “You have a future, a grandchild who is going to need you to lead her and guide her and a stepson who depends on you to help run your husband's company. Certainly not nothing.”

Amanda embraced her, the flowery scent of her perfume enveloping Connie in a wave of sweetness.

“Thank you, dear. You've encouraged me greatly. I feel like you could be my daughter. You've become so special to me.”

“If I helped, I'm glad.” Connie let her go. As she watched Amanda walk away, her heart whispered a heaven-sent thank you.

“You're a wonder, Connie Ladden.”

Wade's voice shocked her. She turned, saw him standing in the back doorway, half-hidden by the shadows. He looked tired but relaxed.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“I don't.” Embarrassed that he'd overheard, Connie changed the subject. “How's the dollhouse coming?”

“Not bad.” He poured himself a glass of juice from the fridge and drank it in one gulp. “I could use your help, if you've got a moment.”

“Sure.” Connie waited until he'd put his glass in the dishwasher then followed him to the workshop. When he opened the door, she gasped. “Oh, my.”

It was a dollhouse beyond all others. Not a detail had been missed from the elegant front door with glass side panels to tiny windows that opened.

“Do you like it?” he asked softly.

“It would be hard not to.” Connie quelled a shiver at Wade's nearness. He stood so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks. Do you think you'll still have time to help decorate?” he asked. “I know you've already taken on some extra work for the Christmas pageant.”

Connie bent to examine the house, needing to put space between herself and Wade. She was far too aware of him—another reason she needed to leave here. She studied his work carefully, noting the extra touches he'd added that made the house unique.

“You've spent a lot of hours at this,” she murmured, brushing her finger against a tiny sink and bathtub. “Where did you find these?”

“I made them out of clay and had a friend fire them.” He hunkered down beside her. “Mostly they're for looks. I doubt Silver will ever put water in them.”

“But she could. It's truly amazing. The baseboards, the cabinets—you've thought of everything.” Connie rose, unable to ignore the building questions in her mind.

“But…” She hesitated. It was none of her business, after all.

“But what?” Wade rose, frowned when she remained silent. “What were you going to say, Connie?”

“What about when she leaves?” she asked softly. “It's a bit unwieldy to transport to South America.”

“Silver's not going to South America,” he told her. “At least not yet.”

“But…” Connie stared at him, afraid to hope.

“She deserves a happy Christmas. When I get the blood test results, then I'll decide what to do. For now, I'm keeping her. If Bella's relatives want to visit her, they can come here.” Wade stood straight and tall, his face rigid yet filled with purpose. “I care about her, Connie. I want to show her that.”

“Oh, Wade.” Connie threw her arms around him and
hugged him, her heart singing with praise that finally he'd seen the light. “I'm so glad.”

“So am I.” His arms moved around her waist, and he held her close, his breath rearranging the curls against her forehead as he stared into her eyes. “You helped me understand that I was trying to do something God hasn't yet asked of me. How can I ever thank you?”

Embarrassed by her unthinking actions, Connie would have moved away. But his hands drew her closer. “You don't have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do. Without you—” He shook his head. “I was ready to send her away. I was so confused and mixed up and determined not to get hurt again.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I was so mixed up about what God was asking me to do. How did I get so far off track?”

“We all do sometimes,” she whispered, afraid to hope this embrace was anything more than friends celebrating a decision. “But God is patient, and He will teach us the right way to go, if we let Him.”

“Yes. I'm learning that.” He lifted his hand, pushed the hair off her face so he could look into her eyes. “You taught me, Connie. You also taught me that opening my heart could be freeing instead of imprisoning.”

“Your love is what Silver has wanted all along.” Connie couldn't, wouldn't let herself hope that Wade was talking about any other kind of love.

“I'm going to have to work up to saying that word,” Wade murmured. “But I think I might actually get there.” After studying her for several moments, he bent his head and kissed her softly, sweetly—a tender kiss that asked nothing.

And Connie kissed him back. She couldn't help it. She cared so deeply for this man, wanted his happiness more
than she wanted her own. She would leave soon, but in the meantime, she would savor this special time with him.

“Oh. Excuse me.” Jared stood in the doorway. His eyes flashed with something that he quickly hid.

Connie moved away from Wade, embarrassed, but Wade seemed to feel nothing like that. He grinned at his friend.

“Connie likes the house,” he said with a smile just for her.

“I'm glad.” Jared grinned at her. “But it needs some furniture and stuff, don't you think?”

“Yes.” It was all she could say.

“I built a couple of beds and dressers. I thought I'd try them out. Okay?” He glanced at Wade, who was still staring at Connie and didn't seem to hear the question.

“You made sofas, too? If you had any extra fabric, I could use it for matching drapes,” Connie said quickly, trying to cover Wade's unusual silence. Why was he still staring at her?

“Sure.” Jared crouched down and placed his pieces in certain rooms. Then he offered Connie a tape measure and wrote down the numbers she gave him. “Wade's making a couple of coffee tables, too.”

“Great.” Connie had to get out of here. Wade kept staring at her as if he'd just realized he'd kissed the nanny and couldn't quite believe it. “I'll get started on the cushions and things right away,” she promised, edging toward the door.

“With some prayer and hard work, we should finish before Christmas,” Jared said. But he was frowning at Wade.

“I'll leave you to it then,” she said. She picked up the extra fabric and escaped as quickly as she could, hoping it didn't look like she was running away.

In her room, Connie sat far into the night, stitching tiny furnishings to make the dollhouse more homey. Every so often she took one of the tiny silver bells she'd purchased for Silver's stocking and attached it to a pillow on the end of an embroidered
S.
But no matter how hard she concentrated, Connie could not dislodge the memory of that kiss or her heart's deepest yearning for Wade's love.

Silly, really, because that wasn't going to happen. Wade carried too much baggage from his past. In a rush, the old feelings of abandonment and aloneness returned, stronger than Connie had ever before felt them. For a moment, it seemed as if she stood in the parched Sonoran desert, looking through a window at the lush oasis that was the Abbot family home.

If only—

Connie regrouped and resolutely pushed away the self-pity.

Lord, help me to keep my focus on You. Lead me in Your path. And please show me a way to get past the grief of my father's loss. I wanted to talk to him so badly.

God knew her heart. And He would heal it. Just as He would help her deal with this new love that could never be returned.

“W
e found Max, Wade.” David was almost shouting.

He found Connie's father two days before Christmas? That had to be God answering his prayer. Wade's heart brimmed with thanksgiving.

“Where?” Wade gripped the phone so tightly that he heard the plastic protest.

“Down in Tubac. He's in a wheelchair, very thin and frail, living in an old, abandoned trailer and making jewelry to sell.” David sounded jubilant. “Jared figures he's in the last stages of cancer. Max wouldn't say much. He did mention Connie, though.”

Wade couldn't suppress the hope. Connie longed to see her father so badly.

“He wants to see her?”

“Not exactly.” David's voice dropped. “He talked about the past, mentioned that he knew she was in good hands and how he was glad, because he had nothing to offer her. Apparently his treatments have all failed. There's no hope of recovery.”

Wade's heart sank at the news. Connie would be decimated. But maybe if he could just get them together one
last time it might help her resolve her issues. He had to at least try.

“Thing is, Wade, Jared doesn't think Max is going to change his mind. He was definite that he didn't want to be reunited with Connie, that he wanted to be left alone.” David paused. “Jared didn't say he knew Connie, of course. He was trying to play it low key. But he's sure Max won't agree to meet her. So what do we do now?”

It took Wade less than a minute to decide. This was for Connie, who had gone far beyond the call of duty for his family. He'd do whatever it took.

“Get Jared to email me all the details. I'll go down there myself, this afternoon.”

“Okay. Wade?” David's voice dropped.

“Yeah?”

“If you want us to go with you, we will,” David assured him.

“Thanks, but this is something I need to do myself,” he said. “I appreciate your help though. Tell Jared, will you?”

“Sure. We'll be praying.”

“Thanks.” Once again Wade cancelled his appointments and took the afternoon off. He stopped by the house to change his clothes and print out Jared's email with all the details about Max's home. Connie and Silver were in the backyard, hanging a Christmas piñata.

“It's supposed to be a javelina pig,” Connie explained as Silver raced up to him, shoe bells merrily tinkling.

“Connie said me and Darla can break it on Christmas, Daddy,” Silver explained.

“That'll be fun.” Wade swung her into his arms and held on, praising God for this beloved blessing.

Silver hugged him back then wiggled free. “Did you come to help us?”

“Not right now. I have to run some errands.” He glanced at Connie, who averted her gaze. Embarrassed? Ashamed? Or did she just want to avoid him? “Hang up some mistletoe too, will you, Connie? Christmas and mistletoe go hand in hand.”

She peeked a quick look at him, blushed a rich, dark red but finally nodded.

“What's mistletoe?” Silver wanted to know.

“You tell her. I have to go.” Wade kissed Silver and on impulse leaned over to smack a quick kiss on Connie's cheek. “See you later.”

“Later,” she murmured, one hand touching the spot where he'd kissed her.

He was nervous and hopeful and scared—and filled with anticipation. If only Connie felt half of what he felt for her.

God?

Wade left it in his Father's hands, trying to trust while he concentrated on his mission to give Connie the best Christmas present he could think of.

Unfortunately, Max didn't see it that way.

“Look, I told that fellow yesterday, I've gone to a great deal of trouble to make sure my daughter couldn't find me. What right do you have to come here and ruin everything?” The old man's face contorted with pain as he shifted in his chair.

“Ruin?” Wade glared at him. “Connie has been searching for you ever since she left her foster home. She's desperate to see you again, to tell you she loves you.”

“And to ask me a bunch of questions.” The grizzled head shook from side to side. “I don't want to get into that. I wish you hadn't come here digging up the past. Let it die.”

“Let you die, you mean.” Wade struggled for a way to reach him. “Do you have any idea how she feels? You left
here there. You never told her why or explained that you were sick. You just dumped her.”

“I didn't dump her,” Max sputtered indignantly. “I arranged it all very carefully, and then I got out of her life. I thought it would be easier for her to bond with a new family.”

“Exactly how would that work?” Wade demanded, echoing Connie's words to him. He was angrier than he'd been in a long time. “Was she supposed to just forget you?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

Fury gripped Wade at the pain Connie had endured because of his decision. He was about to verbally lambast Max when an inner voice chided him.
Isn't that what you were going to do with Silver?

Shame suffused him.
Sorry, Lord.

“Look, you aren't a father,” Max said, defeat dragging down his shoulders. “You can't imagine how it would be to have Connie see me like this—useless, dying.”

“Actually, I am a father,” Wade said, amazed as a rush of pride filled him. “And I was going to do the same thing as you, send my daughter away because I thought she would have a better life with another family. And then I realized that God had given her to me for a reason—because He thought I was the best father she could have.”

Max stared at him, his gray eyes, so like Connie's, glimmering with the faintest spark of hope.

“I understand why you did it,” Wade said quietly. “I understand your pride. You didn't want her to watch you suffer through treatment, never knowing if you were going to be able to be there for her when it was all finished. You wanted the best for Connie.”

“I still do,” Max muttered, but sadness was written all over his face.

“And you gave it to her. She had people who truly cared for her, made sure she understood that she was loved.”

“Then why does she need to see me?” Max asked.

“Because you're her dad.” The truth penetrated Wade's heart even as he said the words. How stupid he'd been not to recognize it long ago. “Connie needs to know that she has a place deep inside your heart that no one else can take—that to you she is always loved.”

“I told her all that before I left her,” Max murmured.

“She has another family now.”

Wade's anger drained away. How could he point fingers when he'd been guilty of the same faulty thinking?

“She could have had ten families. That wouldn't alter your place in her life. Connie needs to hear that you will always be her dad, that you will always love her.”

Max stared at him for a long while.

“Why does it matter to you?” he finally demanded.

“Because I care about Connie,” Wade told him. “Someday you'll have waited too long, and you won't be able to tell her the things she needs to hear. I don't want there to be any regrets for Connie. I want her to know that her father loved her.”

I want Silver to know I love her, too.

Max lowered his head to his chest, clearly thinking about his words.

“I suppose you expect me to see her,” he said finally.

“Did you bring her here?”

“No, I wasn't sure how you'd react.”

“Good. Because I don't want her to see me like this. I can't be her father anymore. I can't even look after myself.” Max's face hardened into a grim line. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

“I'll go if that's what you want,” Wade agreed. “But I need to say something first.” He stared at the man and saw
himself, except for the grace of God. “You will always be Connie's father, Max. Your illness, time, money, embarrassment, shame—none of it changes that fact. Only God knows how long you have left to be a father.”

Max didn't respond.

“You have a chance to make up for all the Christmases you missed. You could come to my place on Christmas morning. Connie would love that. So would I.” He held out an envelope. “My address is in here. If you call the number beneath it, someone will come and pick you up and take you to Connie. All you have to do is say the word. You're welcome to stay at my place as long as you want or need. The decision is up to you. But please think about what I've said.”

There was nothing more he could say or do, so Wade left. As he drove home, he prayed that God would show Max what He'd shown him—that being a father had little to do with blood and everything to do with love.

Just one more thing Connie had taught him. If only he could give back to her a fraction of what she'd given him.

 

Christmas Eve morning, Connie woke up with the birds. She dressed quickly then hurried outside to replenish the seed she'd been putting out for the finches. The greedy little yellow birds darted in for a quick bite while she restocked the hummingbird feeders.

She hummed Christmas carols as she worked, bolting in surprise when she turned and found Wade watching her.

“Is the dollhouse finished?” she asked, trying to cover the awkwardness she always felt around him now. Surely he couldn't tell how much she wanted his kisses to be real?

“Come and see.” He led the way to his workroom and flung open the door.

Last night when he'd returned home, Connie had handed him a bag with the things she'd made then quickly scurried away lest he think she was waiting to be kissed again. Sometime in the interim, Wade had arranged everything in the dollhouse exactly as she would have done. The final effect was stunning.

“It's perfect,” she whispered. “Silver's going to love it.”

“I hope so. And if she does, it's due to you, Connie,” Wade insisted. “I couldn't have made it look nearly as homey without your help. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She shifted uncomfortably. When his attention stayed on her instead of the dollhouse, she couldn't comprehend the message his eyes were sending. Or was afraid to.

“Any last minute errands to run today?”

“I thought I'd take Silver out for lunch,” Connie told him.

“She's so excited about tonight that she'll probably want to put on her angel costume as soon as she gets up.”

“Can I join you?” Wade asked with a smile. “I'm pretty excited myself.”

“Sure.” Connie ignored her brain's objections. She was leaving after Christmas. Why not treasure the last few shared moments with him? “Shall we leave about noon? Or would you rather meet us somewhere? I know you have work to do.”

“I want to make a couple of calls to South America,” he said. “I'm waiting for a letter, but Amanda and I gave everyone else the day off.”

“Oh.” South America? The hairs on Connie's arms stood up in warning.
Not before Christmas, Lord, please? Let them have one happy Christmas together.

“What if I met you at Franco's? It has things kids can do while we wait for our meal.”

“Okay.” Puzzled by the speculative light in his brown eyes, Connie hurried away to prepare for the day. She needed to get an early start, because she did not yet have a suitable gift for Wade.

She had made him a sweater, but now, on second thought, it seemed too personal. Maybe a book would be better—or candy. Cora said he had a sweet tooth.

Round and round she went in her own mind until Connie grew frustrated. The time she'd spent helping him with the dollhouse had brought dreams of being part of his family. That was impossible, because Wade had made it perfectly clear from the day he arrived that he was not interested in a relationship. Despite those kisses, Connie was certain that hadn't changed.

Maybe he'd been lonely when he kissed her. Maybe he'd needed someone to be a friend. Whatever his reasons, Connie could not delude herself that there was anything more to his embrace, no matter how much she wanted it. Allowing herself to trust a man with her emotions would only make her vulnerable again.

And she'd learned that lesson. Twice.

So this Christmas Connie wouldn't get either of her wishes—not a reunion with her father nor reciprocation of the love that had begun to blossom inside for Wade.

That hurt, but Connie stuffed down her feelings and concentrated on Silver.

“Do you mind helping me with a bit of last-minute shopping?” she asked.

Silver was delighted, so they trekked through store after store, fighting the crowds while Connie searched fruitlessly for just the right thing. With only minutes to spare until they met Wade, she finally selected both chocolate and a book and then hurried toward Franco's.

“Hi, Daddy.” Silver held up her arms to be picked up,
and when her father did that, she pressed her lips against his cheek. “We're all finished shopping. Aren't we, Connie?”

“Completely finished,” she agreed, dredging up a carefree smile that would stop that penetrating look Wade was giving her.

Lunch was delicious and fun as Wade kept Silver laughing and Connie smiling with his stories about Christmas in South America. In fact, she was so entertained that Connie stared at her watch in amazement.

“We have to get home,” she said. “Silver needs a bath and her hair done and—”

“Whoa.” Wade held up his hand and grinned. “Go ahead,” he said. “I'll take care of the check and see you later.”

“You are going to come and see me be an angel, aren't you, Daddy?” Silver's anxious face peered up at him, desperate hope glimmering in her eyes.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world, honey,” he said. Then he brushed a kiss against the top of her head and returned the hug she gave him. “Not for anything.”

Connie gulped down her emotions. At last, she thought. At last he's allowing himself to express the emotions he feels for this child. He loves her dearly. I know he does. He just needs some time to come to grips with what that means.