by Lois Richer
“Amanda?” David nudged.
“She can’t force me to go back,” he insisted. “She’ll just have to understand that I need to be here for Silver. I’ll find someone else to take my place.”
“But you’ve always been the overseas foreman,” David said with a frown. “Are you sure you can let go of that?”
“Already have. I asked Hector Salazar to scout out the next location before I left. His work is ahead of schedule. Time means money, and you know how Amanda loves money.” Wade grinned. “When the board sees how much we’ll save, they’ll approve my plans.”
“I hope you’re right.” David didn’t look convinced. He checked his watch and laid down his napkin. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. I have to go.” He thrust out his hand and smacked Wade on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, man. That little darlin’ of yours needs her daddy around.”
“Thanks.” Wade slapped him back, just a little harder. It was a game they played. Toughest kid on the block. A relic of their past. “I appreciate what you’ve done for us, David. By the way, any new lady I should know about?”
“Like I’ve had time?” David snorted, then grinned. “If I could find someone like Connie, I’d make time, though.”
“Did you ask her out?” Wade asked, slightly irritated by the thought.
“She’s not interested in me. Besides, I’m a lawyer.” David rolled his eyes. “Her ex was one.”
“Ow!” Wade winced but laughed.
“We legal eagles are always maligned. By the way, I hear Jared Hornby’s back. We should get together. It’s been too many years since the old threesome hit this town. Let me know if you hear from him.” David grabbed his briefcase, waggled his fingers and took off in the long-legged stride he’d once used to great advantage on a varsity football field.
Relishing the relative peace of the sidewalk café after Argentina’s hustle and bustle, Wade remained in his chair, sipping coffee that was too weak and thinking.
“Daddy!” The squeal could only belong to Silver. She appeared, dragging Connie by the hand toward him.
Connie carried a large bag. It bumped against bare slim legs, which her lovely yet conservative yellow sundress revealed. The lemony shade enhanced the sunny highlights in her tumble of chestnut curls.
After a moment, Silver found Connie’s progress too slow. She let go of Connie’s hand and raced up to him, the tiny bells attached to her blue barrettes jingling merrily as she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his cheek. “Are you meeting us for lunch, Daddy? Is that the surprise, Connie?”
Wade’s warning siren went off. Had the nanny arranged this “chance” meeting?
“No! Silver, I had no idea your father—” Connie’s flushed face gave away her embarrassment. She glanced quickly at Wade and as quickly away. It was obvious she was recalling his comment from their conversation three nights earlier and was uncomfortable with the current meeting.
Wade returned Silver’s embrace then released her as he reconsidered his rush to judge the nanny. He’d told no one he was meeting David. His assistant only knew he was to be out of the office for an hour. Connie couldn’t have known of his plans. But a prickle of warning still feathered its way down his nerves. He’d been tricked before. It wouldn’t happen again.
“Haven’t you eaten lunch yet?” Wade took the parcel from Connie and set it on David’s vacated chair. Silver chose the chair across from him, leaving Connie the seat next to his. Wade held it while she sat down, her head tilted to avoid his gaze. But that only gave him a better view of her long, lovely neck.
“I really didn’t know you would be here. I had to go to the fabric store on this block. Silver needs an angel costume,” she muttered.
“They have those at the fabric store?” Wade motioned for the waiter.
“No. They have fabric,” she said, risking a quick look at his face. “I got some yardage. I’m going to make her costume.”
“You know how to sew?” Somehow it didn’t surprise Wade as much as it should have. From the little he’d seen, Connie Ladden seemed to do many things well.
“Connie makes her clothes, Daddy. Isn’t that amazing?” Silver sipped her water, her blue eyes shining.
“Very amazing,” he agreed, studying the lines of her dress. Connie blushed even more deeply so he looked at Silver. “What would you like to have for lunch, my treat.”
“Can I have a hamburger?”
About to agree to Silver’s request, Wade happened to glance at Connie and saw the quick negative shake of her head. He sat back and waited for her to choose Silver’s meal.
Connie didn’t dictate or order for Silver. She consulted with her, offering choices. The end result was a healthy blend of several food groups, which the little girl seemed delighted about. For herself, Connie ordered a salad and soup.
“They do a wonderful shrimp salad,” Wade told her.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” For the first time since she’d arrived, Connie looked directly at him, a smile tipping up her full rosy lips. “I’m afraid I’m allergic to seafood.”
“Sad for you,” he said with a grin. “Shrimp, lobster, clams—I love them.”
“I guess many people do,” she mused quietly then quickly glanced away, breaking their gaze.
There wasn’t a trace of “feel sorry for me” in her voice, and yet Wade found himself wondering what else this woman had missed out on.
“Daddy?” Silver tugged on his sleeve, drawing his attention. A tiny pleat marred the perfection of her pretty forehead.
“Yes?” Wade wondered if the strong sunshine would mar her skin, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Connie pulled a hat out of her bag and set in on the child’s head.
“Me and Connie went to a dancing thing. What did you call it again?” Silver twisted her head to study Connie, her face perplexed.
“Ballet. And we say Connie and I went, not Connie and me.” The tiny rebuke was accompanied by a soft squeeze to the shoulder. “It was the Nutcracker Ballet,” Connie explained as their server arrived with their meals. “Silver was quite intrigued by the dancers.”
“Yes, and we went behind the stage and saw how everything worked. I loved the Sugar Plum Fairy, Daddy. Could I be a Sugar Plum Fairy, do you think?” She crunched on a carrot then swallowed quickly. “When I get big, I mean. If I practice.”
“Ballet is awfully hard work, Silver.” Wade glanced at the nanny, hoping for some direction, but Connie was busy squeezing lemon on her salad.
“I’m strong. ’Sides, Connie says that if you don’t ever try to do hard things, you won’t ever know if you can do them.” Silver tipped her head up, a question in her eyes.
“Isn’t that right, Connie?”
“Yes, honey. But I wasn’t referring to ballet,” she assured Wade, tilting her curly dark head back so she could look at him full on. “A commitment like that has to be made by you and your father.”
Her father. But was he?
“I’ll think about it, Silver. Okay?” He waited until she nodded, her cheeks full as a squirrel’s storing nuts. He glanced at the clock. “I guess I’d better get back. We have a board meeting this afternoon.”
“Oh, can’t you stay a few more minutes?” Connie’s rushed whisper came as Silver turned away to watch a bird. “You’ve been away so long, and Silver really needs to reconnect.”
She had gray eyes, Wade suddenly realized. True gray, not the changeable shade of blue-gray usually seen. They held his stare unwaveringly, searching his for—something.
Immediately, his hackles rose. He’d been wrong. She had found out he was coming here, had arranged for them to arrive just as David left so she could eat with him and beg him to stay. She hadn’t paid any attention to his warning. Wade had a horrible sense of déjà vu.
And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow it.
“I told you, Ms. Ladden. I’m very busy.” Wade rose, tossed some bills on the table and pulled on his jacket. “I don�
��t have time to dawdle over lunch with you.”
Emphasis on the last two words was lost on her. She leaned back in her chair and studied him for several long moments. Finally she nodded. She looked—sad. “I see.”
Wade heard a wealth of reprimand in the comment and felt a boatload of guilt. He’d only just arrived home. He wanted and needed to spend time with Silver, as she needed time with him. He wanted to see all the nuances of his quickly growing girl. But not now and not with Connie watching.
“I’ll see you both at dinner. Be good, kiddo.” With an awkward pat on Silver’s head, he escaped the nanny’s intense inspection.
“’Bye, Daddy.” Silver grabbed his hand and pulled on his sleeve, asking him to bend. When he did, she planted her lips against his cheek and gave a loud smack. “You be good, too,” she said and then dissolved in a fit of giggles.
“Right.” Wade left, striding back to the office as if hounds pursued him. He’d have to warn Connie again. Tonight. Before things got out of hand.
But as he sat behind his desk, thinking about how he should say it, Wade could almost hear David’s snickers.
What makes you think she’s after you, Abbot? Bit of an egomaniac?
Wade felt a flush of embarrassment. Maybe that was true. But as he walked into the boardroom, he resolved that he was not going to allow a second fiasco. Maybe Connie would think him a self-important jerk, and that was okay.
As long as she didn’t start thinking of him in a more personal way, as more than her employer.
“Mr. Abbot says he won’t be home for dinner tonight, Connie. He’ll get back to you about a time when the two of you can talk.”
“Fine.” Connie squeezed the telephone tightly while fighting to keep her tone even so Wade’s assistant wouldn’t guess she was upset. “Would you remind him that if Silver is to start ballet, tomorrow is the last day to register? Thank you.”
Two weeks. That’s how long Wade Abbot had been avoiding her. But in those two weeks, Connie thought he’d had ample time to make a decision on Silver’s request to take ballet lessons. And yet he still hadn’t told her his preference.
“When’s dinner?” Silver stood in the doorway, trying to stand on her very tiptoes as she’d seen at the ballet and wobbling so badly she gave up. Her tiny sneaker bells “pinged” joyously as she hopped around the room.
“Soon. I told Cora we’d love to have some yummy crow’s feet.” Connie was beginning to regret attaching those bells to so many things, though they were a good warning system announcing Silver’s presence.
“Crow’s feet?” Silver flopped down on the floor, crossed her legs and propped her chin on her hands. “That’s not a real food. Is it?”
“Of course.” Connie hid her smile as she folded the last bits of Silver’s laundry. “Crow feet stew, crow feet soup, crow feet casserole. Yum.” The teasing games were part of her effort to keep Silver from becoming too intense. Which was happening more and more as her father took pains to avoid Connie, and therefore Silver.
The question was why was he avoiding her?
“You’re joking, Connie. I can tell.”
“How can you tell?” Connie sank down on the floor across from the little girl and waited.
“When you’re joking you get a wiggly kind of a thing at the corner of your mouth. Like you want to giggle but can’t.” Silver grinned. “You’ve got it now.”
“I guess I’ll have to watch myself then.” Connie assumed a very stern look then leaned forward and began to tickle the child. “Crow feet juice for you for supper.”
“With red-painted toenails,” Silver laughed, doubling over and hooting with laughter.
“Is it necessary to make so much noise?” Amanda stood in the doorway, her frown fierce. “I have a terrible headache.”
“I’m so sorry. Can I get you anything for it?” Connie offered, springing to her feet.
“How about some peace and quiet?” the older woman snapped as she yanked the bedroom door closed. The slam reverberated to the bells on Silver’s shoes. “Now my head hurts.” Silver sighed. “How much longer is it until Daddy comes home, Connie?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. Your daddy is very busy.”
“I’m tired of busy.” Silver pressed her nose against the window, her voice drooping as much as her body. “I thought that when Daddy was home I would see him a lot, but he’s never home.”
“I know it seems like that,” Connie murmured, drawing the child into her arms. “But I’m sure it’s only while he gets things organized. You have to be patient and keep praying that God will help.” She hated saying those words. Why should a child have to beg for her father’s attention?
“I have been praying. But I think God is busy, too.” Silver sighed heavily.
“God is never too busy to hear our prayers, sweetheart. Never ever. Okay?” She chucked the girl under the chin.
“I’m hungry. Let’s go see if our crows are cooked.”
“Okay.” Silver accepted her outstretched hand and swung it as they walked downstairs. “Tonight’s the night Cora tucks me in, isn’t it?”
“Because it’s my night off, yes.” Surely she wouldn’t have to give up her plans? After many hours of chasing disappointing leads, Connie had finally tracked her father to a soup kitchen. She hoped this evening might render a clue to his current whereabouts.
Please don’t let Silver make a fuss tonight.
The prayer had no sooner left her lips than guilt descended. The last thing Connie wanted was for Silver to feel like her nanny was too busy for her, too.
“I was going out after dinner, but if you want me to stay—”
“No. I’m a big girl. And I love Cora.” Silver paused on the landing. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But she doesn’t read stories as good as you.”
“Tomorrow we’ll do a little extra reading, okay?” Connie promised.
“Okay.” Silver smiled, but it was obvious by her quick scan of the hallway and front rooms that she was still thinking about her father’s frequent absences.
Silver’s appetite lacked its usual exuberance, and when Cora finally appeared for storytime, the child docilely handed her the book and leaned back against her pillows after kissing Connie good-night.
She was so polite, Connie mused as she made her way across Tucson to the soup kitchen, hoping to talk some more with the man who claimed to have spoken to her father. Too polite. Totally unlike the usually bouncy, boisterous little girl who reached out and grabbed at life.
Connie stepped into the old church and scanned the fellowship room. She would have to talk to Wade tonight. For Silver’s sake. She’d have to tell him that his daughter needed him to pay her some attention. How hard could that be?
No harder than questioning total strangers about a father who’d abandoned her eleven years ago, a man she barely remembered. A man from whom she desperately needed answers.
Compared to that, facing Wade would be a cakewalk.
Chapter Three
It was late and he was dead tired, but Wade plowed through the water anyway, forcing his arms to reach and pull, praying swimming would ease the tension of his body long enough for him to sleep.
Amanda had been at her finest today, pushing all his buttons with her references to the past, to the accident that had killed her husband and her son, both deaths she blamed on him.
“You killed my family.”
“My family, too,” he’d reminded her. “Someone ran into us, Amanda. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
But the words had rung hollow the first time Wade said them six years ago, and time hadn’t made them sound any better. He should have avoided the accident—somehow.
Winded and too tired to continue, Wade dragged himself out of the water. It took only minutes for the dry Arizona air to suck away the moisture. Then he pulled on his shirt and jeans over his swimsuit and stretched out on a lounger, staring at the stars above.
Where was God in all of this recrimination, he wondered.
Did God blame him for killing his own father? Is that why Wade seldom felt comfortable in the home he’d loved as he grew up? Was that why he kept himself constantly on the go, to escape the guilt?
“Have I done something wrong?”
Wade’s eyes popped open. He jerked his head to the side, not needing to see her to know that Connie Ladden stood nearby. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, but not the slick form-fitting jeans most women favored. Instead Connie’s jeans looked elegantly tailored. He wondered if she’d sewn them herself, and then he told himself to focus.
“Is it so bad that you can’t even speak to me?”
“Excuse me?” Wade blinked, trying to reorient his thoughts. “Is what so bad?”
“Whatever it is that prohibits you from extending the common decency of answering my phone calls.” She was angry, evidenced by the rigid way she lowered herself onto the chaise next to his, and the glittering silver sheen of her gray eyes. Also, her mouth was pursed in a thin tight line.
“What calls?” He frowned, rubbed his forehead. “What was it you wanted?”
“Unbelievable.” She glared at him. “Absolutely un believable.”
It was not the time to speak, so Wade shut up and waited for enlightenment.
“I’ve been trying to get your consent for Silver’s enrollment in ballet. We talked about it that day at lunch two weeks ago, remember?”
A flicker of a memory returned.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were waiting for my approval,” he said finally. “I assumed you would proceed as usual and decide the matter for yourself.”
“But—” Connie frowned, peering at him through the dim light “—you’re her father, and you’re home now. The decisions about her should be yours.”
“And I am authorizing you to make them.” He swung his legs off the chaise, preparing to leave.
“Don’t you care about Silver at all?” The almost-whisper hit him like a baseball bat.
