The Holiday Nanny (18 page)

Connie prayed with all the fervor she had that Wade would finally yield and tell this darling child she was fixed immovably in his heart, that he would never let her go.

But the still, small voice inside her reminded her that she was not trusting God to work things out. She was again trying to arrange matters her own way by hiding a letter that could change everything.

The question was not about Wade. The question was whether she truly trusted God to work things out no matter what she wanted.

Convicted, Connie returned to the room and retrieved the letter.

Confession time.

Do you think my daddy loves me? Then why doesn't he tell me?

The words dug a trench miles deep into Wade's heart.

He snuck away from Silver's room, down the stairs and hid out in his study, his mind whirling. Why couldn't he tell her what she needed to hear? What was he waiting for?

Everything became a tangle in his brain, and he couldn't seem to sort it out. Somehow his feelings for Silver were tied up in a knot of confusion. He prayed for clarity. Slowly the pieces began to fall into place.

He'd been waiting, biding his time for the right moment—actually, until he was certain no one could take Silver away. But the DNA results hadn't come, and even if they had, there was no guarantee that would make Silver his daughter. Someone could contest the results, argue that he wasn't fit to be her father.

And then what?

To send her away, let her go without her knowing that he loved her more than he loved his own life? It was unthinkable. Memories, dollhouses—what would they matter if Silver never knew he loved her?

Connie knew that, had known it all along. She'd tried to
tell him over and over that what his daughter needed most was love. Dear, sweet Connie who'd steadfastly stuck by Silver, protected and cherished her the way her own father hadn't. Connie, who knew what it was to long for fatherly love, had done everything she could for her charge. But as much as the nanny loved her, Connie couldn't give Silver what she craved. That wasn't the nanny's job; it was his.

Tests—what did they matter? It was the heart that counted. Connie's truth once more.

Wade rose, went to the shed and retrieved the dollhouse. He'd just manhandled it through the door when Connie appeared.

“Would you mind lending me a hand with this?” he asked. “I want it under the tree for Christmas morning. For Silver.”

“Sure.” She had something in her hand, an envelope. She probably wanted to slip it beneath the tree. But she put it down and helped him. Together they set up the furniture that had toppled in the move and rearranged the dolls in various rooms. Connie disappeared upstairs and returned with miniature Christmas decorations, which she helped him hang throughout the dollhouse.

Wade was more than aware of the many times their hands brushed, their glances met, the way she quickly shifted or turned her head. How could he have ever thought she was like that other nanny? Connie was right and good and more beautiful than ever in the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. She'd nurtured and protected Silver when he couldn't, and even when he should have and hadn't.

He loved her.

And for once the words didn't scare him.

At last they were finished. There was nothing more to do. Wade rose and held out his hand to help her up. When
she would have moved away, he grasped her other hand and drew her close.

Wade bent his head and kissed her. He smiled at her blink of confusion and inclined his head toward the ball of mistletoe hanging above them, attached by a white ribbon to the chandelier.

“Merry Christmas, Connie.”

“M-Merry Christmas,” she stammered.

“I can't tell you how happy I am you're here, with us. You've done so much for this family, for me.” It wasn't what he wanted to say. Wade cleared his throat.
Say it,
his brain screamed.
For once, just say the words.
“I've come to care a great deal for you, Connie.” Then he kissed her again, trying to show her without words what lay deep in his heart.

For a moment, Connie stood stiffly unresponsive. But then her arms crept around his neck, and she kissed him back so tenderly that Wade knew he'd been right to say it.

Connie wouldn't betray him.

She was the woman he wanted in his life.

A second after that thought, she wrenched free of him and murmured good night, before fleeing from the room. Wade was going to go after her, but he thought better of it. He'd rushed her, sprung it on her without warning. She needed time.

So did he. He needed to think this through. Connie was the woman he wanted in his life forever. He couldn't imagine coming home and not seeing her standing there, a smile curving her lips. Mealtimes and laughter—that was Connie. Joy in a few hummingbirds, pleasure in creating unique individual things for people she cared about. Protecting and cherishing the ones she loved. That was the real Connie.

She would never betray him.

That kiss under the mistletoe had assured Wade of Connie's place in his heart.

But in spite of all that, a niggling voice of distrust would not be silenced. By now Connie knew he had money. The party tonight must have shown her he had some prestige in the community. How could he be certain those things wouldn't eventually sway her?

Wade walked to his study and sat down behind the same desk his father had used. There on the shelf lay his father's Bible.

If any lack wisdom let him ask of God.

“I need wisdom, God. I need to know for sure.” He opened the book and began to read, and as he did, Wade finally understood. Connie was the reason God brought him home. He thought he had to give up love, but God is a God of love and gives His children the very best gifts—love that grows and encompasses and includes. To refuse His gift was unthinkable.

Maybe Connie wouldn't accept him. Maybe she didn't feel the same way about him, though remembering her kiss was a pretty good indication otherwise. The thing was, Wade wanted guarantees, and God was saying life had no guarantees—except the guarantee of God's love.

If Wade didn't have faith in this love—if he didn't trust that God would do His very best for him and act on that—he would never know God's plan for his life. God had done his part. He'd brought Silver and Connie into Wade's life. What Wade did now was up to him, depending on how much he was willing to trust God.

“Okay, Lord. From here on out, I'm trusting you.” Wade opened the safe in the study and lifted out the box holding his mother's engagement ring. “Tomorrow morning, I'm going to tell her I love her and ask her to marry me.”

“Wade?” Amanda stood in the doorway.

“Can't sleep?” he asked, sliding the ring into his desk.

“Not until I say something.” She moved into the room, her face troubled. “I need to apologize to you and ask your forgiveness.”

“For what?” he asked in surprise.

“For not being the mother you needed. For blaming you.” She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. “I was trying to hurt you to rid myself of the pain I felt, and that was wrong. Connie helped me realize that God can heal hearts if we let him.”

“Yes, He can,” Wade said quietly.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there after Bella died. I don't know the whole story, but I know you were hurting, and I added to it.” She shook her head. “I blamed you for something that wasn't your fault. I wish I could take that back, but I can't. All I can say is that I'm proud to call you my son, and Silver is the most wonderful granddaughter anyone could have. She brings joy to this house, Wade. So does Connie.”

“Yes.” Wade walked over and wrapped his arms around Amanda's tiny form. He held her while she wept for a past that still brought sorrow and then helped her focus on a future that could be filled with joy.

“Thank you,” Amanda murmured, completely ignoring that fact that her mascara had made black streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes were clear and filled with joy as she let go of him. She glanced at the desk. “What was in the letter?”

“What letter?”

“The one from South America. I happened to see Connie carrying it upstairs. I thought she'd given it to you already.” Amanda shrugged. “Maybe she forgot.”

“Maybe.” But highly doubtful. Connie more than anyone knew how much he wanted to know the truth of Silver's birth.

Wade's niggling doubts were screaming now.
Betrayed! Betrayed!

“Anyway, Merry Christmas, Wade. I hope you get everything you deserve.” Amanda kissed his cheek then hurried away.

Everything he deserved? Wade sank down on his chair and tried to stop thinking, but his brain would not be silenced. Connie had deceived him, kept back a letter she had to know he was waiting for. Why? Because she was trying to inveigle herself into their lives, so they would depend on her, so he would fall for her?

His mind in turmoil, his heart aching from betrayal once again, Wade went out onto the back courtyard to work off his anger by pacing around the garden. “God?”

The only response was a whisper in his heart.
Trust.
It kept replaying over and over.

But how could he trust again?

 

Connie walked upstairs, away from Wade, one hand holding the letter, the other pressed to her lips. He'd kissed her, and nothing had ever been so wonderful. She'd felt light as air, until his words had sunken in.

I've come to care a great deal for you.

Great. But caring wasn't love. She would never love anyone as much as she loved Wade. But it was clear that he didn't love her, not as she needed to be loved. That kiss was just part of the magic of Christmas that he'd been caught up in. It had nothing to do with her. Not really.

The same with her father—it was only a fantasy that she'd tried to convince herself would come true. He
was gone. The words she longed to hear could never be spoken.

It was over.

Connie wept for everything she'd wanted, for the love she'd thought Wade might one day feel, for those precious words her father would never speak. She wept until there were no more tears and only one thing left to do. It was time to stop trying to control things, time to let the Abbots figure out their own futures. She didn't know best. God did. It was time to accept His will.

Connie washed her face, picked up the letter and crept downstairs. The house was quiet, only the tree lights glowed, its wondrous spruce scent filling the air. She slipped down the hall to the study, and using the moonlight flooding in, she moved toward the desk. She laid the letter on it, quickly scrawled her resignation on another piece of paper and then turned to leave. Her sleeve brushed a stack of papers off the corner and onto the floor. She bent to pick them up and froze.

“Wade, this is Max Ladden's address. Don't call first” was all she saw.

At first the words wouldn't compute. Call? Her father was alive?

A sledgehammer cracked her heart. Wade knew. He'd known and yet he'd never said a word. Decimated, Connie crumpled in a heap onto the nearest chair. At least she'd thought she could trust Wade. But once again her trust has been misplaced, only this time her trust in God was also rocked to its foundation.

How could He let it happen again?

“I see you finally decided to deliver my mail.” Wade stood in the doorway, his face gray, his brown eyes flaring with anger as he glanced from the bulky envelope to her. “Guilty conscience?”

“Yes.” Connie rose, defiant, ignoring her burning cheeks. “At least I admit it. How about you?”

“What are you talking about?” He frowned.

“You're a liar, Wade.” She waved the piece of paper she'd found. “My father is not dead. You knew that and didn't tell me. How could you do that?”

He had the grace to look ashamed.

“I was going to.”

“Sure you were.” She couldn't stop staring at him, couldn't suppress the waves of embarrassment, betrayal and humiliation. She'd trusted this man. She'd fallen in love with him. But he was no different than the others who'd betrayed her. How could she have been so stupid?

“Let me explain, Connie.”

“Explain what? I told you how much I wanted to be reconciled with him, how desperate I was to find him. You knew how sad I was that I'd never be able to talk to him. And now, to find out he's alive?” She shook her head.

“How could you do it?”

“I was going to tell you, Connie.” Wade moved forward and stopped directly in front of her. “Right after Christmas.” He hunched down so his eyes were level with hers. “I knew that once you learned he was alive that you'd renew your search.”

“And?” She wasn't prepared to cut him any slack. This was her father, a man for whom she'd searched for years. To withhold this information—it was cruel. “What right did you have to not tell me, Wade?”

“The right of someone who cares about you,” he sputtered, eyes flaring.

Care. There was that word again. But did it mean love? Waves of yearning washed over Connie when Wade grasped her hands in his.

“All I wanted was…I thought maybe if you had a chance
to enjoy Christmas with us, it would make up for not having your dad here. I thought, just this once, that we could be your family—Silver, Amanda and me.” He paused, swallowed. “You've worked so hard on Christmas, Connie. I wanted you to enjoy the day without anything spoiling it. I figured we could renew your search for your father the next day.”

It was so ironic that Connie burst out laughing, only tears accompanied her laughter, streaming down her cheeks.

“What?” Wade was clearly confused by her reaction.

“What did I say?”

Connie struggled to stem her emotions so she could explain.

“I kept that letter back because I wanted you and Silver to have a special Christmas together. I was afraid there'd be something in it that would wreck everything I'd hoped for the two of you,” she confessed.

“Why do you care?” he said very softly.

“Because I care about the Abbots,” she whispered.

“About Amanda and Silver.”

“Uh huh.” Wade didn't move, but his dark eyes began to glow. “And?”

“And you,” she admitted after a breathless pause. “I love you.”

“Oh, Connie.” Wade tugged her up and into his arms. He kissed her so tenderly that she could do nothing but respond. Obviously satisfied by her response, he finally drew away, though his hands did not let her go. “What a pair of fools we are.”