The Holiday Nanny (19 page)

“We are?” she repeated, hardly daring to hope this was happening.

“I love you, Connie Ladden,” Wade told her. “I love you more than life. I love having you here. Watching you with
Silver and Amanda has been a lesson in love. You crept into my heart so fast that I hardly knew it was happening. And now I don't want to let you go. Ever.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He pressed a finger against her lips. “I never wanted to love again, Connie. After Bella, I never believed I could trust any woman again. I didn't want to because betrayal hurt so much.” His hands moved to her hair, smoothing his fingers over it. “I didn't believe God was on my side or that I could trust Him. But you showed me that being a child of God means more than merely spouting the words. It means that I have to believe and trust that God is working for my happiness even though I don't see it. And I have to have faith in others.”

“Oh, Wade. I'm so glad you've found a new relationship with Him. That's the most important thing.” Connie stared into his eyes, hungry for more words of love but half-afraid to believe them.

“So do you forgive me for not telling you about your father?” he asked, still so close she could feel his breath on her face.

“If you'll forgive me for withholding that letter,” she said. “I was so afraid—”

“No more fears.” He pressed a quick kiss on her lips.

“We serve a God who chases fears away.”

“Yes.” Connie sent a prayer for forgiveness heavenward. God hadn't betrayed her. He'd just taught her a lesson in hanging on to her faith, even when things looked bleakest.

“About my dad?” she whispered. “Do you think—”

“Connie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you trust me?” Wade's body went still, as if her answer was the most important thing in the world to him.

Connie stared at him as the question hung between them. What was he asking?

“Can you believe that I never meant to hurt you, that I love you more than I've ever loved any woman?” He squeezed her fingers and continued. “Can you believe that I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, that I would never abandon you as others have? That I will only ever do my very best for you. Can you believe that?”

He sounded so intense. Connie hesitated. But this was no time for doubts. She had to be certain that her love was strong enough to sustain her through whatever came.

“I can't explain now,” Wade said softly, “but I need to know you trust me. I promise I'll tell you all tomorrow. But tonight I need to know you trust me with whatever happens.”

Whatever happened.

That was the essence of love, wasn't it? To have faith in the other person regardless of circumstances.

And Connie did.

“I can believe that, Wade, because I love you,” she told him openly, honestly. “With all my heart. And I trust you.”

“Then will you marry me?” he asked, staring into her eyes so intently that Connie felt he could see everything. Suddenly she was free of the old feelings of betrayal, free to love with her entire being. The past dimmed in the dawn of the future, with him. A future of love.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I'll marry you, Wade.”

He kissed her, a kiss brimming with love and tenderness. Then he pressed her head into his shoulder and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Connie stood entirely content in his loving embrace, but part of her wondered why he'd asked those questions.

“I have something to show you,” Wade said when several moments had passed. He opened his desk drawer and drew out a box. “This was my mother's. I want you to have it, as a promise that I will always be here for you.”

He slipped the ring on her finger and sealed their pledge with a kiss. Then they sat in front of the Christmas tree and reminded each other of the many ways God had led them together.

“We need to tuck this moment into our hearts and remember it,” Connie whispered as the clock chimed midnight. “If we trust God, He'll always do His best for us.”

“Yes. Merry Christmas, darling.” Wade kissed her.

Connie smiled.

“Merry Christmas. But what was that for?”

“For love.” Wade pointed upward. A cluster of mistletoe hung directly above them. “Good old Hornby.”

“I wonder where else he's hidden them.” Connie glanced around.

“You can look tomorrow,” Wade said, his mouth quirked in a smug smile. “I'll help you.”

“It is tomorrow.” Connie kissed his cheek then rose.

“Time to fill those stockings. I can hardly wait for morning.”

“Me, neither,” Wade murmured quizzically. He winked.

Connie went to bed, but she had a hard time falling asleep. Between memories of the day her father had left her and her brimming curiosity about Wade's unusual look, sleep eluded her.

C
onnie sat on the side of her bed, staring at the gorgeous diamond ring Wade had slipped onto her finger last night. She'd hardly slept, had been up for ages, but she wasn't tired. She was elated, barely able to believe her dreams had come true.

Well, not all her dreams.

A swift sadness enveloped her, but after a quick prayer she pushed it away. God had blessed her with much. He knew what He was doing. She would leave her father in his hands, too.

The sound of the doorbell echoed up the stairs. Then Silver's quick feet, tapping across the hall and down the steps followed. And yet the doorbell rang again. Then a third time.

Curious, Connie checked her reflection quickly before descending. Why didn't someone answer?

Wade was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his face blazing his love and chasing away any doubts she may have had. He slid his arm around her waist and hugged her.

“Why doesn't someone answer the door?” Amanda
asked, emerging from the other end of the hall. “It's been ringing forever.”

“Good. We're all here,” was all Wade said.

“Now, Daddy?” Silver asked.

“Yes. Right now, sweetheart.”

The love in those words, the adoration glowing in his dark eyes—no one could doubt that Wade loved his daughter. Or her. Connie basked in the warm glow of that love.

Silver threw open the door.

“Merry Christmas, darling Connie,” Wade murmured, turning her so she faced the door.

A man in a wheelchair sat on the steps. He was stooped and bent, battered by life, more gray than she remembered. But it was her father.

“Dad?” And then she was in his arms, reveling in the reunion she'd sought for so long.

It was Silver who insisted they talk in the family room, Silver who kept hold of Connie's hand as her father explained that he'd left Connie behind to fight a terrible battle with cancer that he was still engaged in and Silver who touched the old man's cheek when his voice faltered.

Then Wade kissed Connie's cheek and whispered, “You two need to talk. We'll give you some privacy.”

He took Silver's hand, and together they left the room with Amanda.

Haltingly, without looking at her, Max apologized. He spoke of his shame about his impoverished situation, his feeling that he had nothing to offer Connie, the fear that he would only be an encumbrance or that she would hate him for abandoning her.

“You'd already started treatment when you left me there, hadn't you?” she asked. “I kept thinking about that day
last night. You could hardly lift my suitcase, and you were short of breath. And perspiring,” she added quietly.

“I'd gone through two sessions by then,” Max admitted.

“I thought I could go through it without you knowing, but the two times took everything I had. There were four more to go. I knew I couldn't have you there when I couldn't look after you.”

“Oh, Dad. I'm so sorry you had to go through that.” Connie knelt before him and laid her head on his lap. “At first, yes, I can understand why you needed to do it on your own. I would have been too much trouble. But later?” She lifted her head and peered into his eyes. “Why didn't you come get me later when it was over?”

“Because it was never over.” His fingers brushed over her hair. “It won't be over until I die.”

The truth was harsh, but the words so precious when her father told her he'd been following her life and had kept track of her until she moved from North Dakota.

“I was going to come and get you after I lost my first leg,” he murmured, “but the cancer came back again and again. I know how pitifully disgusting I look. I didn't want you to see me like this. I wanted you to remember me as I was.”

“Do you think I care how you look, Dad?” Connie demanded. “I love you.”

She was ready to tell him of her sorrow, feelings of abandonment and years of longing to know where he was, when Silver's fingers closed around hers. The little girl smiled. Wade did the same, as if to say, “What does the past matter? You have the present. And the future.”

Connie let it go.

“I love you, Dad,” she repeated. “I always will.” She wrapped her arms around him and hung on despite the reserve that stiffened his body.

After several minutes, Max relaxed and hugged her back. Connie couldn't have asked for any better Christmas gift.

“You have a very persuasive fellow,” Max told her. “I had no intention of coming here. In fact, I wouldn't have, but Wade wouldn't give up.”

“Yes, that's what I love about him,” Connie said sharing a look of love with the man who'd made her Christmas dream come true.

Father and daughter caught up, shared stories and hugged over and over again until Silver finally demanded, “Aren't we ever going to open our Christmas gifts?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Yes, we are,” Wade said. He rose and led the little girl to the huge box with her name on it. He knelt down to her level.

“This is my gift to you, Silver. Because you are my little girl, and I love you very much. I always want you to be happy. Merry Christmas.” Wade drew her into his arms and held her tight as Silver's big blue eyes filled with tears.

“I love you, too, Daddy,” she whispered, clinging to him.

“God answered my prayers, too,” she said to Connie, her blue eyes huge.

“He certainly did,” Connie agreed.

Curiosity soon got the better of the little girl. She jumped out of her father's arms and stood in front of the box.

“It's so big. How do I open it?”

“I'll help. That's what daddies do,” Wade said proudly. He beckoned Connie to come help him lift the big box away.

“Oh, Daddy!” Silver danced around the dollhouse, threw herself into his arms then lurched away, too excited to stay still. She bent to peek inside, flattened herself on the floor. “It has dollies and furniture and everything.”

“Connie and Uncle David and Uncle Jared helped with that,” Wade said, drawing Connie to him as if he couldn't bear for them to be separated. “And Grandma helped with the roof.”

“I tried, in spite of your father's advice,” Amanda said in a dry tone with a teasing glance at Wade.

“All of your family worked to make this surprise for you, Silver,” Wade said softly. “Because we love you.”

Connie's heart squeezed tight at Wade's words. Here was the answer to her prayer for the Abbots—father and daughter together and Amanda joining in.

It was odd, she thought, holding her father's hand as they all watched Silver investigate her dollhouse. She'd once had so many questions for her father. Now that he was here, they didn't matter. He was here, he loved her. That was enough.

“Silver, don't you have some gifts?” Wade prompted after Amanda had brought in a carafe of coffee and some mugs.

“Oh.” The little girl cast one last longing look at her dollhouse, then scampered behind the tree to retrieve a package. “This is for you, Grandma.” She grinned with delight when Amanda oohed and aahed over the portrait of Silver. “And this is for you, Connie.”

Connie accepted the package, expecting a picture of Silver. Instead, she was stunned by the lovely pastoral scene. “This is beautiful,” she said, hugging the little girl.

“It's like your farm, isn't it?” Silver asked. “Can we go and visit there, Daddy, after you and Connie get married?”

Connie glanced at Wade. “You told her?”

“He's told everyone.” Amanda laughed. “As if we wouldn't have known just by looking at him.”

“I couldn't keep it to myself,” he said, kissing Connie briefly. He laughed at her startled look and pointed up.

“Hornby has them all around the house, so get used to it.”

Connie presented her gifts to the others. A paint set for Silver, who'd shown an amazing aptitude for art: a handmade silk scarf for Amanda and the sweater, book and chocolate for Wade, who insisted on wearing his sweater.

Then she looked at her father.

“I have a gift for you, too, Dad.” She retrieved a box from her room and handed it to him. “I always hoped I'd have the chance to give it to you.”

Max opened the box and the album inside it, full of pictures of herself that Connie had assembled in chronological order. Tears seeped out of the corners of his tired eyes and ran down his haggard cheeks.

“It's the very best gift,” he assured her. “But I have nothing for you.”

“You've already given my Christmas gift to me, Dad,” Connie told him, hugging him close. “You're here.”

“This is for my Daddy.” Silver held a small, oddly wrapped package out to Wade.

Connie had helped her wrap a pair of socks they'd chosen together, but this wasn't it. She shrugged at Wade's questioning look.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Wade took the package from her small hands and began unfolding the masses of tissue until he came to a piece of paper. He sucked in his breath. Then the proud man who'd guarded his heart for so long blinked away tears.

“Don't you like it?” Silver asked with a frown.

“I love it,” he said setting the picture aside so he could wrap her in his arms. “I love you.”

Connie leaned over to study Silver's drawing.

A little girl stood in what seemed to be a desert. There was a big black bird in the sky overhead, perhaps a vulture. An animal—maybe a coyote? hid behind a cactus, waiting. The sun was sinking behind the craggy mountains in the distance. But the little girl didn't seem afraid. She was smiling. Because coming toward her was a big strong man, and he held out one hand, asking her to take it.

“It's me and Daddy,” Silver explained from her current perch on Wade's lap.

“It certainly is.” Connie smiled, her heart full.

The rest of Christmas day passed in a blur of joy. David and Darla arrived with more gifts. Amanda announced she was giving Silver a pony, and Jared and Hornby showed up in time for dinner, which Amanda had taken over so Cora could be with her own family.

Much, much later when the guests had gone, after Silver had been tucked in and Max settled in a room on the main floor, Wade led Connie into the courtyard, by the pool. They stood in each other's arms and stared at the glittering stars twinkling against the inky blackness of the night.

“‘For God so loved the world,'” Wade recited, “‘that He gave his only son.' That was quite a gift.”

“The very best gift,” Connie agreed. “It's been a wonderful day. I can't thank you enough for finding my dad and getting him to come here. Or for my lovely ring.” She held out her hand so the lantern reflected the dazzling sparkle of the diamond. “I love you,” she whispered. “And I trust you—with my life.”

“Me, too.”

They stayed there until the soft, peach-colored light of dawn painted the eastern horizon and a melodic chorus of
mourning doves, curve-billed thrashers and Gambel's quail melted into the air while raucous cactus wrens rat-a-tat-tats chimed in from a spiny cholla nearby.

“We should get some rest,” Wade finally murmured.

“Yes.” Connie frowned. “I forgot to ask you something.”

“Oh?” He pushed the curls off her face and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Ask away, my darling.”

“What was in that letter?” Connie braced herself and whispered a prayer for courage.

“Let's find out.” Wade pulled the envelope from his pocket. He hesitated before tearing it open. “Trust,” he said out loud.

“Trust,” Connie agreed.

Then he read the contents, his expression unreadable.

He was silent a long time.

“Wade?” Connie gripped his fingers. “Whatever it says doesn't matter. We'll deal with it together.”

He folded the letter, shoved it back in his pocket and then turned to face her, his fingers spread through her hair, smoothing the strands. At last he spoke.

“The letter is a report about the man Bella ran away with. He couldn't be Silver's father. He wasn't able to have children.” Wade stared into her eyes, his own shining with happiness.

“Thank God,” Connie whispered.

“Thank God, indeed. God had it all worked out before I even started worrying about it,” he marveled. “Isn't that amazing?”

“And just like our Heavenly Father,” Connie agreed. She hugged him fiercely. “So you are Silver's father.”

“Well, the DNA tests aren't back,” Wade reminded her.

“But it really doesn't matter what they say because, yes, I am Silver's father.” He grinned proudly, the shadows
completely gone from his eyes. “Do you think she could be our flower girl?”

“You want to talk about our wedding already?” she asked in surprise.

“Our wedding can't come soon enough,” Wade assured her. “Haven't you heard? My daughter and I are in love with our nanny.”