by Lois Richer
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.”
“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 promi
se 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.
Chapter Fourteen
Connie 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 t
hat 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.
