by Lois Richer
“You never do.” Connie shook his hand. “Thank you for telling me about my father, Pete. I appreciate it.”
“He was a good guy. Proud as a peacock and tough as nails, but that man was gentle as a butterfly. He loved you a whole lot,” Pete said firmly. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t.” She reached out and hugged him, reluctant to let go of this tenuous link to her father. But eventually she had to let go and watch him walk away.
“Bad news?” Wade took the chair next to her.
“Good and bad. Dad lost two legs to cancer and apparently survived the treatment, but Pete thinks maybe the cancer recurred. He thinks Dad was depressed. That’s all I know.” She looked at him. “That and the fact that my father talked about me a lot.”
“Because he loved you.”
The confidence in Wade’s voice surprised Connie. She frowned at him.
“I can understand what he did without condoning it,” he told her.
“Is that because you’re going to do the same thing?” Since Silver and Amanda were busy talking to Kris and his mother, Connie faced down Wade.
“I’m not abandoning my daughter,” he argued, his voice harsh, eyes dark with suppressed anger. “I’m trying to restore Silver to her rightful family.”
Connie couldn’t stifle her sniff of disgust at his answer. Wade ignored it and continued.
“But if I was fighting cancer and had lost both my legs, I might decide to leave Silver with folks who could take care of her when I couldn’t. I sure wouldn’t want her around to watch me.”
“Why?” Connie demanded, infuriated by his logic.
“Because she might cry? Express emotion? Demand to stay?”
“All of those reasons and more.” Wade touched her shoulder with a gentle hand that said he understood her need to lash out. “If it’s a battle for his life, Connie. No man wants his sweet little daughter watching him, especially if he thinks he’s losing his battle. He wants her to be happy and carefree.”
“Carefree?” she scoffed. “Do you actually believe that can happen?” She glared at him, knowing Wade would infer she was talking about him and Silver as well as herself. But at this point, she didn’t care. “You think a child can be happy without her father?”
“You were,” he said very quietly. “Weren’t you?”
“He forced me to make a new life for myself,” she said, irritated that Wade would condone her father’s actions.
“Exactly.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“And the fact that I loved the life I had with him, or that I would have done anything to be with him—” She paused, frowned. “That doesn’t count for anything?”
“I don’t believe your father made his decision without a great deal of thought, if that’s what you’re asking, Connie.” Wade’s voice gentled, his eyes almost caressing in their softening. “You are a very special woman. I’m sure he saw that as you were growing up.”
“Special is one of those mean-nothing words, Wade.” Connie couldn’t let it go. “I’m no more ‘special’ than any other kid who just wants her dad.”
“I’m sure your father wouldn’t agree.” He appeared fully in control, but Connie could tell from the tic at the corner of his mouth that Wade was forcing back strong emotions. “Sometimes as a parent you have to make decisions based on what is best for someone else.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” she whispered, then wondered how she dared question him.
His mouth tightened. His eyes narrowed to thin slits.
“Do you think I want to give her up?” he rasped. “Do you think it’s easy?”
“I can see that it isn’t.” Connie leaned forward. “Because you love her.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” Wade rose.
“Sometimes,” she said, rising to meet his hard stare, “love is all God gives us. We have to depend on Him to work out the rest.”
For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. His gaze moved to Silver. She was laughing with Kris, whose sullenness had completely evaporated. Then Wade’s melting chocolate scrutiny returned to settle on her. Connie felt her whole body react to Wade’s intense gaze.
“Where does all this faith of yours come from?” he whispered.
She knew that whatever answers she gave Wade wouldn’t satisfy him. Faith was something everyone had to work out on their own terms. She relearned that lesson every time she spoke to someone about her father.
“How can you be so certain of God, Connie?”
“Aren’t you?” she murmured.
“No,” he said starkly. His chin thrust forward. “I’m not. Even though I’ve been a Christian for years, I don’t have the rock solid confidence you have. I wish I did. How can you just blindly believe?”
Essentially that was the same question Connie had asked her foster mother. The only answer she had was the same one she’d been given.
“It’s not blind faith. I have questions as you do. As Silver has about you,” she said bluntly. “But so far God has never let me down. I have to trust His promise that He will never leave or forsake me, no matter what happens.” She lifted her head, sensing what was coming from the way he stared at her.
“Even if your father doesn’t want to see you? Even if he’s dead?”
Dead?
Wades’s words hit like bird shot in the most tender spot of Connie’s heart. Would she still trust God completely if it turned out that her father was gone?
And yet—didn’t she have to? Wade was so strong, so competent, so able. But deep down, behind the stringent mask of control he refused to relinquish, he was hurting and afraid to trust.
Connie vacillated. Maybe she should just shut up. But her conscience wouldn’t let go. Only this morning she’d read a Bible verse that said faith without works was dead. How could she claim to believe in God and not trust Him to care for her regardless of what she learned about her father?
Connie was at a crossroads. She had to hold firm in her faith if she was going to encourage this hurting man to lay his problems at the feet of the only One who could help.
“Even if he’s dead, Wade,” she whispered. “I’ll trust Him even then.”
His nod was the only sign that he’d heard her answer. He motioned toward Amanda and Silver. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes.” Connie glanced around the room. “I’ve learned everything I can tonight.”
“I’m guessing you’re not in the mood to get a tree.”
“Would you mind if we did it another night?” She forced a smile to her lips. “Maybe tomorrow? It’s late, and Silver is probably tired and—”
“Connie.”
The quiet control in his voice drew her attention. His dark brown eyes transmitted acceptance, understanding and something that made her nerves skitter and her heartrate pick up. She was probably being silly, and yet Connie knew that in that moment, Wade was as aware of the electric connection between them as she was. But he didn’t avoid her or make an excuse. Instead he smiled.
“I know hearing what you did has upset you. You need time to think it through. Take all the time you need. I can stay with Silver tomorrow if you want to get away.”
“Thank you.” Connie blinked, surprised by the words.
“But—”
“You’re always endlessly giving to everyone else. Maybe it’s time you slowed down and refilled your own well.” His wry smile held a hint of self-mocking. “Believe me, I know how easy it is to get stretched so thin that you have to force one foot in front of the other. The tree and everything else can wait.”
So easy—it would be so easy to give in and cry on Wade’s shoulder. But in the end, it would only embarrass him and make him think she was like the other nanny, something Connie could not and would not risk. His faith in people was rocky. She would do nothing to increase his distrust.
“It’s very generous of you, Wade, and I appreciate the offer, but I think the best thing for me is to keep busy.” Connie
picked up her purse and rose. “Would you have time to get the tree tomorrow night?”
“Sure.” He walked with her toward the others. “But could you make time to talk to me tomorrow before dinner? I want to discuss something with you.”
“Sure.” On the ride home, Connie sat in the backseat, cradling Silver’s tired head while Amanda questioned Wade about Klara Kramer.
All Connie could think about was what Wade wanted to discuss.
Surely he wouldn’t let her go, not now, not before she’d found her father—certainly not before she’d done everything she could to make Wade rethink his decision to send Silver away.
But that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t want to leave. Her heart pinched as the truth hit Connie. She had feelings for Wade Abbot. She didn’t want them, but they were there and were growing.
She was falling for her boss.
Chapter Nine
For the first time since he could remember, Wade spent an entire Tuesday without accomplishing one work-related item.
In the morning, he took his own advice, avoided the office and refilled his own well by sharing a chat with the pastor. Then he spent several hours sitting at a park, reading his Bible and praying for help. By noon, he’d scrounged up enough courage to phone Connie and ask her to pray. Then he phoned Amanda and asked to meet with her when he returned home.
The talk had not begun well, but once he’d reassured her that it was not about business, she’d settled down to listen. Wade did as Connie suggested and apologized with heartfelt sincerity.
“I’m so terribly sorry it happened, Amanda,” he told her with sincerity. “If I could, I’d change things. I’d gladly give up my own life to bring them back.”
“But you can’t,” she said bitterly.
“No one can, Amanda. But they are in good hands now.” Her head jerked up, and a fierce anger filled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I’m discounting your pain. I’m not. Actually I’m not saying anything but that I’m truly sorry Dad and Danny died.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she demanded. “Why now?”
“Because it’s time I said it.” He noticed the weary lines around her eyes, the shadows tucked in their depths. Her grief had aged her beyond her years. “I owed you an apology.” It cost to admit that, but in saying it Wade realized how right Connie had been as he felt a heaviness lift. “I wasn’t understanding enough. I should have insisted on staying longer to help you through your grief. I sincerely apologize for my thoughtlessness.”
“Thank you.” Her shoulders lifted a fraction as she inhaled. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Can I say something else?” He held his breath and prayed for help.
“I could stop you?” Strangely, Amanda almost smiled.
“You know how Dad loved Christmas. You know the way his celebrations reached out and included so many people.” Wade stopped, waited.
Amanda nodded. Tears welled, but she pushed them back.
“Go on.”
“I want to make this Christmas like he would have,” he said. “As kind of a tribute to Dad and Danny. I want to fill the place with light and joy, the way they did. I want to get a tree and decorate it. I want to hang stockings on the fireplace. I want to invite the carolers in for hot chocolate and have a singsong around the piano. I want all of it.”
“You mean you want it for Silver?” Amanda’s voice hardened.
“In a way, yes,” Wade admitted. “She never knew Dad, never heard Danny’s laugh, never saw the two of them dive into the gifts under the tree or sip that eggnog Dad always made. I wish she had.” He stopped, swallowed his memories and regrouped. “But mostly, Amanda, I want it for us, to remind us how fortunate we were to love two such special people. And because I want to carry on the traditions they started.”
Amanda said nothing. She simply watched him. Wade couldn’t give up. Not yet.
“I want to keep Christmas as they did,” he continued.
“But not if it’s going to hurt you.”
“So you want my permission?” Amanda bent her head so he couldn’t read her expression.
“Actually, I want more than that. I want your help.”
She jerked upward, eyes wide. “My help? What brought this on?”
“Actually Connie did. She’s been telling Silver about her memories from her foster home, and they are many.” He chuckled. “You’ve probably heard about them. Connie has this rich legacy filled with joy and laughter, and I realized that Silver doesn’t have any memories like that because we never gave her any.”
“You were away,” Amanda murmured.
“And now I’m back, and I want to change things.” Wade refused to be drawn into an argument. “Will you help me?”
“To do what, exactly?”
“Whatever you want. However you want,” he said. “But I want you to be part of our celebrations.”
Silence yawned between them. Connie had warned him to go slowly, not to expect much, so Wade waited for Amanda to absorb what he had said. She studied him for a long time.
“I could help Cora plan the menus. Your nanny won’t want to do that.” Amanda chuckled with a secret delight.
“She won’t?” Wade didn’t get it.
“Connie doesn’t like cooking. Didn’t she tell you?” Amanda tipped her head to one side. “Apparently that rich legacy of hers didn’t include much kitchen work outside of dishwashing and making scrambled eggs. She was terrified the other night when Cora had to go home sick.”
“She was?” And here he thought he knew Connie. Wade frowned. “I didn’t know.”
“I think there’s probably a lot you don’t know about your nanny,” Amanda speculated. She tapped the fingernail against her table. “You might want to find out.”
A hint of knowing in Amanda’s voice made Wade glance away.
“Your father always had a ‘trim the tree’ party,” she continued, her voice introspective with memories. “I haven’t kept up with the old gang, so I don’t know who to invite, but you could ask David and Darla.”
And just like that, Wade’s Christmas plans took off.
After his conference with Amanda, Wade sought out a tree and arranged for delivery that evening. When Silver and Connie returned from preschool, he coerced them into helping him retrieve decorations from the storage room. Silver mistakenly opened a box brimming with pictures, and Connie could hardly coax her away from them for dinner. Later, Amanda joined them and remained to supervise the selections for tree decorations.
“A theme tree? Amanda, you are so clever.” Connie grinned as she surveyed the array of balls and glittering ornaments sprawled across the coffee table. A few deft movements and she had quickly packed away the discarded decorations. “I’ve never done a theme tree before.”
“Well, I’ve never done many things you have either, so I guess we’re even.” Though she tried, Amanda couldn’t quite hide her flush of pleasure.
Wade sat on the sofa, content to watch the two women work together planning. When Silver crawled onto his lap, he told himself to relax and just enjoy her presence without worrying about tomorrow. Connie would say God would take care of that.
“When can we put things on the tree, Daddy?”
“Mmm, tomorrow night, I guess.” He smiled at Silver’s whoop of joy. “David and Darla are coming to help, too.”
“Good.” Silver tipped her blond head to one side. She touched his cheek, traced the faint line of his only remaining scar from the accident. “Can I have a Christmas stocking, Daddy?”
“Of course.” He should have thought of that already, but Silver had never really noticed much about Christmas before. Or maybe he hadn’t. “We will all have Christmas stockings. But Christmas stockings are very special, you know. You must choose just the right one because you might have it for a long time. What kind would you like?”
“I don’t know.” Silver was totally serious. “In the box downstairs I saw that picture of you with a red stocking.”
>
It hadn’t been Wade. It had been Danny. But Silver wouldn’t know that.
“Should I have a red stocking?” Silver asked, her face scrunched up in thought.
“Is red your favorite color?” Wade asked her.
“No, that’s Connie’s.” Silver thought about it for a moment then climbed down and walked over to Connie.
“What kind of a stocking should I have?”
Connie glanced at him and blushed. Wade wasn’t sure what caused it; he only knew the additional color in her cheeks rendered her more beautiful than ever, despite the tinsel hanging from her hair and the garland looped around her arms.
Whoa! Here he was noticing Connie again. That would not do. He reigned in his thoughts.
“I think you should have a silver one,” Connie murmured, “with lots of bells.”
“Yes!” Silver danced up and down and then raced over to Wade. “Can we go shopping for my stocking tomorrow, Daddy? I don’t have school. We could go in the morning.”
“Sorry, I have a meeting in the morning.” Wade watched the joy leech out of her. “But maybe in the afternoon I could go.”
“Uh-uh. Klara’s orientation, remember?” Amanda shrugged. “You told me to have her start tomorrow when you asked me to offer her the job. Unless you expect me to do the orientation?”
There was a dare in her tone. For thirty seconds, Wade’s brain shot out all the reasons his stepmother should not talk to his newest employee and skew her perspective on the company. Then he shut the negative voices down.
“If you could, that would be great,” he said. “Thanks.”
Amanda looked at him with an odd, confused look that said she suspected he was up to something. Wade kept his expression neutral.
“Well, okay. But I haven’t done it in a while,” she warned.
“You’ll manage.” When Amanda’s smile flashed, Wade was irrationally glad he listened to Connie’s advice. Irrational because he never took advice from others about his private life.
And yet—so far Connie hadn’t steered him wrong.
