by Lois Richer
What could she do to help?
When no answers arrived, Connie rose and left the little girl to her rest. She returned to her own room and the window seat where she could gaze at the stars and commune with God.
A lone figure sat on the pool deck, staring into the water, oblivious to the cool wind that had Connie quickly closing her window. Her heart went out to Wade. She had to help. But how?
And then it came to her. Perhaps Wade would think she was following in her predecessor’s steps, but Connie was going to spend the next few weeks figuring out ways to get father and daughter together.
“If he can finally understand that no matter whose genes she carries, Silver will never consider anyone but Wade as her father, perhaps he’ll understand why he has to be the man she needs.”
It was an awesome challenge, especially given Connie’s overwhelming reaction to being cradled in his arms. But it was natural, wasn’t it, to respond when someone empathized with you?
“Yeah.” Her conscience mocked her. “Let’s go with that. Let’s pretend you didn’t enjoy Wade’s embrace.”
Chapter Four
“What are we doing, Connie?” Silver’s bright blue eyes scanned the mess atop the dining room table.
“Preparing for your Christmas party.”
“A party?” Silver’s blue eyes grew huge. “But it’s not Christmas for a long time.”
“One month from today is Christmas day.” Connie showed her on the calendar. “And the day after Thanksgiving is exactly the right time to start thinking about Christmas.” She tweaked the child’s nose. “So we have to get busy.”
“I can help you?” Silver clapped her hands. A second later she’d pulled up a chair next to Connie’s. “Who will come to my party?”
“Well, I think we should invite Hornby and Cora,” Connie suggested.
“Yes. And Uncle David.”
“Okay.” Surely a party would help her charge forget about her father’s inattentiveness for a little while? Relieved the child was getting into the spirit of things, Connie gave her the notepad and helped her write David’s name.
“We have to invite David’s sister, too,” Silver insisted. “Her name is Darla. She had a skiing accident and hurt her head, but she’s getting better.”
“Is she well enough to come to a party, do you think?” Connie watched anticipation build in the little girl’s heart-shaped face.
“Yes!” Silver jiggled in her seat, her excitement setting the tiny bell on her jeans’ pocket tinkling. They added Darla’s name to the list.
“Who else would you like to invite?”
“Grandma?” Silver whispered with a glance over one shoulder. “It wouldn’t be nice to have a party and not ask her.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Connie agreed, wondering if Wade’s cranky stepmother would put in the effort to show up, especially since her histrionics yesterday had spoiled Cora’s lovely Thanksgiving meal.
“Grandma’s always sad,” Silver said. “Maybe a party will make her happy.”
“Maybe it will.” Privately, Connie doubted that.
“Can I invite the kids from my preschool?”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m not sure—”
“What’s going on here?” a low voice demanded.
“Daddy!”
Connie flinched in surprise. She’d come up with the party idea hoping to surprise Wade with a fait accompli, so that he wouldn’t have time to think up a refusal to help. The man never showed up at home midafternoon. Why today?
“We’re planning my Christmas party, Daddy.” Silver bounced off her chair and raced over to him. “It’s going to be so fun.”
“A party, huh? When is it?” He chucked Silver under the chin awkwardly and smiled at her giggles.
Connie gave him credit for at least trying to be fatherly.
“I don’t know.” Silver grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the table. “But you can help, Daddy.”
“Me? But I can’t.” He looked terrified. “I have to—”
“Please, Daddy?” Silver wheedled. “We have so many things to decide,” she said in a parrot-like voice that Connie recognized as mimicking her own.
“I’m sure.” Wade looked like he wanted to bolt, but to Connie’s relief he sat. “Okay, what’s first?”
“The date,” Connie said.
“What day could you come, Daddy?” Silver wiggled her way onto his lap. She smiled and patted his cheek.
“I’m invited?” He sounded bewildered.
“You have to be there,” Silver said in all seriousness, “because the other kids at preschool think I made you up.”
The pathos of those words wrenched Connie’s heart. She glanced at Wade and saw that he, too, was moved.
“Uh, how about a week from today? Would that fit in your schedule?” Connie suggested.
Wade’s head jerked up.
“Only a week?” He gulped.
“A whole week?” Silver mourned.
“You’ll be so busy it will fly by,” Connie promised Silver. “We have decorations to put up and party favors to make. Invitations to print. All kinds of stuff.”
“Oh.” For once Silver had nothing to say. But her big blue eyes brimmed with questions.
“What exactly are you planning to do at this party?” Wade licked his lips like a man in the desert craving water.
“Games, food, singing. All the things kids do at a party.” Connie paused. “It is all right, isn’t it?”
“A little late to ask me that,” Wade mumbled, glancing at Silver’s bent head meaningfully.
Connie studied the paper in front of her. Because if she looked up and met his stare, he’d see that she deliberately hadn’t told him of her idea in case he vetoed it.
“Oh, never mind,” he said, obviously disgruntled. “Plan away.” He moved as if to rise.
“But I’m going to need your help,” Connie blurted. It didn’t take a genius to read his skepticism. “With a game,” she said. “I can’t do it alone.”
“Why not?” he said, with one eyebrow tilted. “You’ve managed this far.”
“I can’t handle a whole treasure hunt on my own.” It was an off-the-cuff response, the first thing she thought of, but Silver’s gasp made Connie wish she hadn’t said it aloud in case she couldn’t deliver.
“The other kids would really like a treasure hunt, Daddy,” she said, threading her arms around his neck.
“So would I. Please?”
Wade held his little girl delicately, as if afraid she’d break. His fingers hovered over the gossamer silver hair as one would approach a butterfly and drew away just as quickly, fear chasing doubt as he eased out of Silver’s exuberant embrace. “Please, Daddy.”
In that instant, Connie pitied Wade Abbott. He wanted to love Silver, she knew he did, though fear held him in its steely grip. Still, Silver was a powerful motivation to let go. With her blue eyes and adoring begging voice urging him to grant her request, most men would be putty in her hands. Poor Wade didn’t stand a chance.
Then Connie forced away the rush of pity she was feeling. How stupid she was being. That was the whole point of this party—to get him more involved with Silver and help him shed this cloak of apprehension that clouded everything he did with his daughter.
Wade cleared his throat.
“Do you really need help?” he asked, a wary edge to his voice.
“Yes.” Connie met his gaze head-on.
Time stretched taut like a wire between them until finally he nodded—once.
“Okay.”
“Hooray for Daddy.” Silver flung her arms around his neck and squeezed. She didn’t seem to notice that Wade didn’t return her hug, because she was too busy planning. She leaned forward and grabbed a sheet of paper. “Can you fix your old fort, Daddy? We could use it for the party. Grandma said you played there when you were little like me. She said you were a pirate. Will you be the pirate at my party?”
Wade’s cheeks turned a vivid red.
“You were once a pirate?” Connie teased, wondering if this stiff, formal man would unbend enough to actually wear a costume.
“No, I—”
“I saw pictures, Daddy. You had a pirate hat and a sword, and you were standing on the fort. But Grandma won’t let me go on it. She says its dil…dill…” Silver stopped, frowned.
“Dilapidated?” Wade finished and nodded. “It is.” He glanced at Connie. “Nobody’s used it since Danny—”
Once again that forlorn look washed across his face, and once again Connie’s heart melted like butter on hot toast.
“Danny must have loved it, as you did. Most kids would,” she said. “It would make a great center for the party,” she coaxed. “We could hang balloons, play capture the flag, have our picnic near there.”
Wade remained silent for a long time. Silver didn’t notice. She was too busy drawing pictures of all the things she wanted to do at her party.
“I can plan something else, if you’d rather,” Connie offered when Silver raced off to find some tape.
“Ha! I don’t think she’d go for it,” Wade retorted, but a half smile flirted with his lips. “She’s locked on to this pirate idea now. There won’t be any talking her out of using the fort.”
“I certainly hope you’ll make the place safe before you let anyone get on that derelict monstrosity, Wade.” Amanda stood in the doorway, her face hard. “In fact, I think it should be torn down.”
“No! We can’t tear down the fort.” Silver burst past her grandmother, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Don’t be a silly sentimentalist,” Amanda scoffed. “That old wreck is disgusting.”
“It was my daddy’s fort,” Silver wailed. “He played there, and I want to, too.”
There was no consoling Silver until Wade wiped away her tears and promised he’d have a look and see what could be done.
“Now no more tears, okay? Christmas is supposed to be a happy time.”
“I promise, Daddy.” Silver’s bottom lip wobbled for an instant, but she finally regained control, favoring him with her big smile. “I love you, Daddy,” she said. Then she gave his hard, chiseled cheek a kiss.
A moment later, she’d jumped down and was racing away to decide what toys she’d take out to the fort.
“She’s going to get hurt, Wade. And it will be your fault. Again.” Amanda glared at him before wheeling away.
Wade simply stood there, desolation robbing his handsome face of joy.
“Wow. Nothing easy about this party, is there?” Connie forced a laugh from her lips. She began gathering her supplies. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll plan something else.”
“No.” Wade sat down. “Silver wants to use the fort. Nothing wrong with that. It’s the reason my father built it.”
“He built it for you.” Connie was amazed. Somehow, after seeing the stern portrait images in the upstairs hall, she’d never thought of Wade’s father as anything but a very proper lawyer.
“He not only built it but he used to hide in it sometimes when my mother wanted him to clean out the garage or go to some society function.” Wade’s lips lifted in a brief grin. “He’d take a book, a jug of lemonade and a little tape player and hide up there for hours.”
“You must miss him a lot,” Connie offered.
Wade lifted his head and stared at her. After a moment, he nodded.
“Silver asks about her grandfather quite often. I think that’s how she came to see pictures of you. She asked Amanda about your father. She’s asked me, too, but I never know what to tell her.” Connie held her breath, wondering if he’d understand that his daughter needed a sense of history to feel fully secure in this family.
“I could tell her lots of things.” Wade glanced around.
“How much he loved Christmas dinners in this room, for instance. I can still see him, sitting where you are and carving the turkey while everyone recited a verse from the nativity story. He’d always invite a bunch of people for dinner so we were squeezed in like sardines.”
“He sounds like a very generous, loving man,” she said softly.
“He was.” After a moment, Wade rose. “I miss him very much. And Danny. I wish Amanda understood that.”
“Maybe you should tell her,” Connie blurted, then wished she hadn’t.
“Tell her what?” He scowled. “About my childhood?”
“About your memories. Share them with her.”
“What good would that do?” he asked sourly.
“I don’t know. Maybe make her feel less alone.” She could tell he wasn’t buying. “I’ve talked to Amanda a little,” she offered.
“And?”
“I think she feels as if she’s the only one grieving, as if she alone has to keep alive their memories.” She paused to see if Wade was listening. “I think she’s afraid to be happy because then she might forget about them.”
Wade said nothing for a long time, and Connie wondered if she’d said too much. She cleared her throat and rose to leave. Wade moved to block her exit.
“Taking everyone under that motherly wing of yours, Connie?” He smiled to ease the hint of sarcasm in his words. Then he grasped her arm. “Come on,” he urged.
“Where?” Connie eased out of his grip.
“To look at the fort. If the party is only a week away, we need to get busy.”
Just like that?
Connie trailed behind Wade and stood outside, slightly bemused by his about-face. She waited silently in the warm sun as he tested the ramp, swung on the rope and generally sounded out the fort for defects.
“Needs a few tweaks,” Wade said, grinning as he dusted off his pants. He jumped off the balcony and walked toward her, his face clear of all the strain she’d seen hovering there.
“I’ll have some stuff delivered tomorrow. Maybe David can give me a hand fixing it.”
“I can help.”
Wade’s look expressed his doubts.
Connie laughed. “I built lots of things when I was on the farm. You might be surprised how good I am with a hammer.”
“Thanks, but I doubt it will come to that. David is help enough.”
“Okay.” She didn’t take offense. “But if you need an extra set of hands, I’m here.”
“Thank you.” He pulled out a pen and a piece of paper and began scribbling, muttering reminders to himself. He glanced up once. “Keep Silver away till it’s finished, will you?”
“Of course.”
“And Connie?”
“Yes?” She waited for the reprimand she knew was coming.
“Thanks for the other advice, too. I’ll try talking to Amanda again.”
“Good.” Since she suddenly felt self-conscious with him, Connie hurried back inside to sketch out the rest of her plans. Then she and Silver hunkered over the computer in the office to figure out what kind of invitation they would make.
“What’s going on now?” Wade asked some time later, from the doorway.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Connie said quickly. “David told me when he hired me that I could use the computer in your office.”
“It’s fine.” He strolled over to take a look at their work.
“Why aren’t you printing them in color?”
“Can we?” Silver asked, eyes wide.
“I can’t seem to set the printer,” Connie explained.
“Like this.” Wade touched a few buttons, and beautifully colored invitations spewed out in a graceful heap.
“Thank you.” Connie showed Silver how to fold the papers in quarters.
“There’s a new email,” Wade said a moment later.
“I think that’s mine.” Connie reached for the mouse, her hand brushing his. Her first reflex action was to pull away guiltily, but Connie didn’t do that. She wasn’t willing to let him think for an instant that she was harboring thoughts like that other nanny.
Instead, she waited for Wade to remove his hand then clicked on the icon. The message filled the scree
n. “Oh.”
“Something good?” Wade asked. He’d moved to stand in front of the desk to give her privacy.
“Something very good. I’ve found another man who says he knew my father. He’s agreed to meet me.” Connie hit print, watched the email message appear then folded it and tucked it in her pocket.
“Are you ’cited?” Silver wanted to know. “Connie’s been looking for her daddy for a long time,” she explained to her father.
“Ah.” Wade watched Connie with those intense brown eyes but said nothing more.
“I know my dad probably won’t want to see me after this many years,” Connie said, cheeks hot with embarrassment at displaying her eagerness to speak to this man. She sounded needy in her own ears. “But I want to talk to him.”
“Of course.” Wade didn’t look convinced.
“There are questions—things I’d like to know,” she burbled wondering why she was trying to justify herself.
“I’m sure. When does this man want to meet you?” Wade asked. He glanced at Silver for an instant.
In that look, Connie saw speculation, as if he’d just realized that many of Silver’s questions about her grandfather would be like the ones Connie wanted to ask her dad. Connie had a lot of questions—most of all, why he’d left her.
“He says Sunday, tomorrow night,” she said. “He’ll be at the evening service at the drop-in center. I’ll meet him before it starts.”
Silver tugged on Connie’s hand, bored with the conversation. “Can I give Grandma a paper about the party?”
“Can you print your name on it yourself?”
“Of course,” Silver said, her eyes wide as if scandalized by the very idea that she couldn’t write her own name. To prove it, she carefully scribed the letters and added a lopsided bell with an odd-shaped clapper.
“Very nice.” Connie smiled and showed her how to fold it. “She’ll be the very first one to get an invitation.” She watched the little girl scamper happily away.
“Um, that may not have been the best idea,” Wade murmured.
“Because?”
His brown eyes brimmed with sad memories. Connie wanted to know what had caused them.
“My father and Danny were killed the week before Christmas,” Wade said, his voice flat. “Amanda doesn’t really celebrate.”
