The Holiday Nanny (17 page)

She drove home with Silver sitting quietly in her seat—too quietly.

“Is something wrong, honey?”

Silver said nothing for several minutes. Connie glanced in the rearview mirror. Silver's big blue eyes didn't glow with their usual spark. They were passing a park so Connie pulled in, knowing the child needed to say what lay on her heart.

She unbuckled Silver, helped her out of the car and then led her to a park bench. Silver flopped down, and Connie crouched in front of her.

“Please tell me what's wrong, sweetie? Did you forget a gift for someone?”

“No.” Silver studied her for several minutes before she spoke. “Do you think my daddy loves me, Connie?”

If she said yes and the unthinkable happened…Connie stalled.

“Why are you asking?”

“Sometimes I think Daddy loves me very much—like today when he hugged me. He squeezed really tight, and I could hardly breathe,” Silver explained. “But sometimes I think Daddy doesn't want me to be there. Sometimes I think he wants me to go away.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Connie gathered the sweet girl in her arms and soothed her as best she could. “Sometimes adults get busy and they forget that little girls need attention. But that doesn't mean they don't care about them.”

Silver thought it through for several minutes, nestled on Connie's lap. Then she looked up, blue eyes shining.

“'Sides, I asked God to help Daddy love me,” she said, her faith ringing true. “And God heard me, didn't He, Connie?”

“He sure did, sweetie. He sure did.” She hugged the little girl, relishing the precious moment, knowing they would soon be over when she left.

“Too tight, Connie.” Silver wriggled free, skipped a few steps and then returned to grab Connie's hand. “We hafta go home.”

“Yes, we do.” Connie belted her in and drove home accompanied by Silver's rendition of “Silent Night,” the carol the children would perform at the concert.

Back at home, Silver raced upstairs to prepare for the
bath Connie insisted she take. Connie paused by the front hall table, her eye on the mail.

Christmas is almost here, Father. Please let there be something about my dad.

She sifted through the letters stacked on a glass plate.

And froze.

Santiago Investigations. Postmark—Rio de Janeiro.

Her fingers flirted with the thick envelope as Connie recalled Wade's comments about a letter. Regarding Silver's parentage? Wade was close, so close to fully accepting Silver as his daughter. Christmas was just hours away, a time when the Abbot family could finally reunite, as a family should.

This letter could ruin everything, make him doubt his right to Silver.

“Anything about your father there?”

At the sound of Wade's voice, Connie slid the envelope inside her jacket.
Just for a few hours, Lord. Just so they can have one happy Christmas together,
she apologized.

“Connie?” His hand touched her shoulder. He pressed, urging her to face him. His brown eyes were soft, filled with compassion. “I'm sorry. I know you were hoping for information,” he said quietly. “But you know the mail is always slower at Christmas.”

“I guess.” Guilt suffused her. Wade was being so nice and she was tricking him. Shame filled her, but she couldn't give him the letter. She loved him and loved Silver, too. She desperately wanted them to be united as a father and child should. “I'd better go. Silver's waiting,” she whispered.

“Okay.” He touched her arm. “You're always telling me to trust God. Maybe this is one of those times when you have to trust Him, too.”

“Yes.” She moved toward the stairs.

“Connie?”

“Yes?” She turned, wondering if he'd guessed. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Did you get that mistletoe?” he asked, grinning.

“I spoke to Hornby about it. He said mistletoe was his job, and he'd hang it where he thought best.” Why was Wade looking at her like that?

“Ah. A secret. That will be fun.” He winked at her.

“What time do we leave for the concert?”

“It starts at seven o'clock. We should be there half an hour early,” she told him.

“Okay. I'll tell Cora we need to eat early.” He walked toward the kitchen.

Connie glanced both ways and then raced to the study, wondering where she could hide the letter so that it wouldn't be found until after tomorrow. Wade had files spread across the desk. Would he move them tonight? She hesitated.

“Checking email?” he asked, standing in the doorway.

“I was going to.” She pressed her jacket to her side, holding the letter there. “But I think I'll leave it for now. Maybe I'll look later tonight.” Silver's lilting tones called her. “I'd better get to work.”

“Keep the faith, Connie. Isn't that what you're always telling me?” Wade grinned, and her heart took flight.

“I guess it is.” She forced herself to smile back then hurried away.

The letter burned against her side. She slid it into a drawer, but she couldn't stop glancing at it, checking, wondering if anyone would have noticed. Had Hornby brought in the mail? Would he tell Wade that it was missing?

“Connie? Aren't we going to have my bath?” Silver stood in the doorway, frowning at her.

“Of course we are.” Connie got busy at her job, but when she changed her own clothes later, she couldn't help
checking to see if the incriminating envelope was still there.

Thief,
her conscience complained.

“I'm not stealing it,” she defended herself. “I'm just hanging on to it until Christmas is over.”

The words did nothing to ease her guilt, and she couldn't think of anything to say all through dinner or on the way to the church. Thankfully, Silver chattered excitedly, covering the awkward moments. Wade said little, though he kept looking at her as if he knew something wasn't right.

Silver was unusually calm as Connie helped her into her angel costume. She waited patiently for the gossamer wings to be buttoned on and never complained a bit when Connie fumbled putting on her headdress.

“Do you remember your words?” Connie asked, worried that the little girl was having an attack of nerves.

“Fear not,” the little girl began. She continued with confidence until she reached the last line. “Unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord,” Silver repeated calmly.

“And the song Darla's going to lead you in?”

“I know it, Connie. I practiced a lot, and I prayed a lot.” She lifted her chin, blue eyes brilliant. “I'm going to be the bestest angel. Daddy's going to love me.”

He already does,
Connie yearned to assure her.

“You are going to do very well, and I am so proud of you.” Connie hugged her. “I love you, Silver.”

“I love you, too.” Silver hugged her then backed away.

“You go sit with Daddy, Connie. I'll stay with Darla,” she said as the older girl wandered up to them. Silver took her hand. “We're going to be great,” she crowed happily.

“I really love my costume, Connie. Thank you.” Darla beamed with happiness.

“You're welcome. Are you sure you want me to go?”
They agreed she should leave, but Connie hung around until their Sunday school teacher gathered them up with the other kids. Then she hurried back to the audience and slipped into a seat next to Wade, feeling awkward and ill at ease.

Because of that letter.

“Everything okay?” Wade asked.

“I think so. Where's Amanda?”

“Sitting with some old friends,” he explained. “She seemed to prefer that.”

“Oh.” She had no chance to say more as the program began.

The Christmas story unfolded simply but beautifully as the children told of the birth of the Son of God. When it was time for Silver to perform, Connie caught her breath and leaned forward. A moment later, Wade's warm fingers folded around hers.

“She'll be fine,” he murmured close to her ear.

“Re lax.”

And Connie tried, but it wasn't easy with him sitting so close to her, bringing thoughts of what she'd dreamed of, knowing it was just a dream.

Then a rear curtain opened, and Silver stood in a pool of light, her face serene, arms outstretched. Reverently she said her lines clearly. Not a sound from the audience interrupted.

Then Darla and a group of angels appeared beside Silver. Darla's pure clear voice echoed unaccompanied around the sanctuary as she sang the first verse of the “Silent Night” solo. The other children joined in. Connie was so proud that tears welled at the solemn simplicity the children had brought to this Christmas Eve.

Moments later it was over. Wade pulled out a big white handkerchief and began dabbing at her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his face blazing his pride. “They were fantastic.”

“I know. It was beautiful.” Connie resolutely stuffed away the hopes and dreams she'd cherished for this Christmas. Her father was gone. After tomorrow, Wade wouldn't be in her life anymore—nor Silver. She had only a few hours of happiness left, and then she'd have to start over again somewhere else. “I'll go help Silver change. Excuse me.”

“Did you like it?” the little girl asked the moment Connie found her.

“I loved it. You were fantastic.” Connie hugged her.

“And you were awesome, too, Darla.”

“I was nervous before, but Davy said to pretend all the people watching were clowns,” Darla explained. “When I did that, I wasn't nervous anymore.”

“Very good advice.” Connie helped Silver change from her costume to the lovely organza confection Amanda and Silver had purchased. “You look beautiful, sweetie,” she said. And she meant it.

Wade echoed the sentiment and bent over to enhance his words with a hug.

To Connie's surprise, Amanda invited several people to the house after the program. She decided to return home with one of them, leaving Wade and Connie to escort Silver.

“Did you like it, Daddy?” Silver sat in her carseat, waiting, eyes wide with anticipation.

“I loved it,” he said softly. “I've never seen a more beautiful angel.”

Silver's glow reinforced Connie's decision to keep the letter until after Christmas, though her conscience scoffed at this logic. When Wade found out what she'd done, he would be furious, perhaps even ask her to leave. But Connie
was prepared for that. If she could assist Wade, Silver and Amanda to find happiness together, she'd gladly sacrifice herself, because she loved them.

“You look tense,” Wade murmured for her ears alone as guests began to arrive. “Why? They won't bite.” His hand cupped her elbow, introducing her to each visitor as a “friend.”

Difficult as it was to maintain a calm front with him so close, whispering funny comments in her ear, Connie forced a smile on her face as she greeted the visitors and kept it there when Wade insisted she accompany him as they milled around the house, wishing each guest a merry Christmas. Because these would be among the last precious moments she'd spend with the family, Connie tucked each one deep into her heart. But her hungry gaze kept following Wade, wishing, wanting more than to be called a friend, as desperate as any child the night before Christmas.

Seeing Silver tire, Connie excused herself and took the little girl up to bed.

“Daddy said I was the most beautifulest angel he had ever seen,” Silver yawned, holding her hands above her head so Connie could lift off her dress.

“And he was right. You were fantastic.” Connie supervised her bedtime ritual and then tucked the covers around the tiny form, smiling as Silver wiggled, setting off the bell on her quilt. Her big blue eyes grew serious.

“Do you think that means that Daddy loves me?” she asked with the smallest quiver in her voice.

“I think your daddy loves you very much,” Connie said, unable to deny this child the reassurance she so desperately craved.

“Then why doesn't he tell me?” Big tears formed on the long blond lashes. “I prayed like you said I should and asked God to help him,” she said, sniffing back her
tears. “I tell Daddy I love him lots and lots, but he never tells me.”

“Oh, Silver.” Connie gathered the small body in her arms and cradled her, rocking gently. “Saying the words isn't the important part. People often say lots of things they don't mean, you know.”

“I know. Like Reggie says I'm a baby sometimes.” Silver sniffed. “But I don't think he means it 'cause he always sits with me at snack time.”

“Exactly.” Connie smoothed the silver gilt hair and cupped the chubby cheeks in her palms. “You know, some people have trouble saying the word
love.
They're afraid of it, so they're scared to say it.”

“You mean Daddy is afraid?” Silver's blue eyes grew enormous.

“Maybe,” Connie murmured, “but that doesn't matter, because he shows you he loves you in other ways. You see, it's what is in your heart that counts, and I think love is in your daddy's heart. I'm sure he loves you very much. Just like God does. And so do I.” She hugged the little girl fiercely. “As much as I would love my own little girl, that's how much I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too, Connie, and I'm not ascared to say it.” Silver hugged her back fiercely. But a moment later she yawned.

“Time to sleep. You've had a big day, and tomorrow's Christmas. I don't want you to be tired.” Connie waited for her to lie down again and then tucked the covers around her.

“I won't be tired on Christmas,” Silver mumbled, but she slurred the last word as her eyelids drooped.

“No, you'll be as bright and shining and sweet as you always are.” Connie sat beside her, watching the pure, clear
face relax and fall into dreamland where little girls didn't have to wish for their father's love.