by Lois Richer
The completion of the game was a close finish, which Connie declared a four-way tie.
“That’s not fair,” Silver complained. “We got all our things before the others did. We’re the only winners.”
“Are you sure?” Connie asked each team leader to empty their contents on the table. The children gathered around, watching as she chose one thing from each team’s pile.
“She’s making a kite,” one child exclaimed.
“Yes, I am,” Connie agreed. “But I couldn’t make it unless everyone finished. I need all the parts. That’s why you’re all winners, because you each found something we need. It doesn’t matter who finished first, does it?”
Heads nodded their agreement.
“So we had to work together to get what we all need to make a kite,” Reggie mused, eyes wide at her creation.
“Exactly.” Connie smiled.
Cooperation blossomed as the children happily helped each other form the struts and wings on the simple box kites. Then they tried to get the contraptions airborne on the afternoon’s light teasing winds.
“Very clever,” Wade murmured from behind her.
“Thank you, but I got the idea off the internet.”
“You use the internet a lot, don’t you?” he asked.
“Why not?” Sensing a rebuke, Connie frowned. “It’s a good resource.”
“I guess.” The doorbell rang, and he went to answer it.
Amanda disappeared the moment the game was over, so Wade and Silver greeted the parents and sent the children off with loot bags while Connie helped Cora and Hornby clear the mess. When the cleanup was finished, she thanked them for their help. Order was completely restored to the yard by the time Wade and Silver returned, except for a few wayward balloons on the fort. Connie decided to leave them when Silver flung her arms around her.
“Thank you for the bestest party in the whole world.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.” Connie hugged her tightly, set her down and watched the little girl turn to her father.
“Thank you for coming, Daddy. Reggie said he won’t tease me about my daddy anymore.”
“Oh?” Wade frowned. “Why not?”
“’Cause now he knows you’re real.” Smiling, Silver carried her kite across the yard and sat down on a sunny patch of grass to play with it.
Wade turned to leave, but Connie stopped him. His eyes followed her hand, and she self-consciously let it drop away from his arm.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Because?” He looked puzzled, not angry.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did on the phone. It was rude and not my place.”
Wade kept watching her. Growing more uncomfortable by the second, Connie shifted under his stare and kept her head downcast, eyes on the ground. A moment later, she heard a burst of laughter and glanced up.
“That apology must have cost you dearly,” he chuckled.
“Well, I didn’t expect you to laugh at me,” she said, indignant that he would mock her.
“I’m not. Well, not really,” Wade said, still grinning.
“Connie, do you think I don’t know that where Silver is concerned you’re like a mother bear protecting her cub from anyone who would hurt her?”
“That’s my job.” Connie met his gaze and held it, fully aware of the electricity sizzling between them and the moment their interaction turned personal.
Wade knew it, too. His smile dropped away, leaving only his dark brown eyes intently peering into hers, searching for—something.
“That is what you hired me to do, isn’t it?” she said quietly. When he didn’t speak, she decided to tell him everything that lay on her heart. “Not that I think you’d deliberately hurt Silver.”
“Thank you for that at least.” He studied her then finally asked, “What do you think?”
“That you’re afraid of the power she has over you,” Connie said boldly. His eyes widened at the impact of her words, but she couldn’t stop. “You’re afraid that if you let yourself love her too much, you won’t be able to let her go. And you’re determined to let her go. Aren’t you?”
Wade shifted, glancing over one shoulder to see if Silver was listening. But the little girl, worn out by the afternoon’s events, had curled up in a chair and was now fast asleep.
“Why are you so afraid?” It was the one thing Connie didn’t understand.
“I’m not her father,” he said very quietly, anger coloring the edges of his voice. “She belongs with her true family.”
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know—yet,” he admitted. “But I’ll find them.”
“And how will they be her true family?” Connie asked, keeping her voice low enough that even if Silver awakened, she wouldn’t be able to hear. “Does she know any of them as she knows you, has known you all her life?”
“She’ll learn to know them, to love them.” His body shifted, his shoulders hunched forward in a defensive state, though he was probably unaware of it. “Children are adaptable.”
“Silver has a great capacity for love, yes,” Connie agreed.
“But that also leaves her terribly vulnerable to being hurt by those she cares most about. You,” she added.
“I won’t ever hurt her” was Wade’s fierce response. Then his voice altered, evidencing his frustration. “I’ll just tell her that I’m not really her father, that there was a mistake.”
“In what world would that make it better for Silver?” Disgust, frustration and anger spilled together and spurted inside Connie’s heart like a geyser of pure acid. “To Silver you are her father. To be rejected—”
“I’m not rejecting her!” Wade spat out angrily.
Connie grasped his arm and drew him to the far side of the yard, so they wouldn’t disturb the child. Wade followed her lead, but he clearly was not happy.
“You insist on attributing the worst possible motives to me. I don’t want to send her to someone else,” he insisted.
“Don’t you?” Connie wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. “Wouldn’t that make it easier for you?”
“No!” He glared at her. “How could that be easier?”
“Because you wouldn’t have to risk losing her once you’d let yourself love her.”
“I—” The words seemed to shock him into silence. Or else Wade was so furious that he couldn’t speak. Either way, he let his angry gaze do the talking.
“I know you think it’s none of my business, but I care about her.”
“It is none of your business,” Wade gritted.
“It is because Silver trusts me. I don’t want to see her get hurt.” She studied him for a moment. “My former fiancé was a lot like you.”
“Really? The lawyer?” He was deliberately goading her now.
Connie ignored his tone.
“Yes.”
“How?” Wade challenged.
“He said all the right things, did all the right things. He seemed like he would be the perfect husband, just like you seem the perfect father. You give Silver lovely gifts, nice clothes, expensive schooling.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” She wouldn’t release his gaze from hers.
“Then?” Wade sounded totally exasperated.
“My fiancé offered material things, too. A beautiful diamond ring, a lovely home, fancy places we were supposed to travel to.” She smiled at him. “Except the real man showed himself, and his pretend love was nothing but a sham. It became obvious that he never really loved me at all.”
“I don’t think the comparison is valid, but do go on,” Wade ordered tersely.
“His concern that I not wear myself out caring for Billy?” She shook her head. “That was really concern that he wouldn’t get all my attention and that I wouldn’t be there, free to do whatever he wanted when he wanted.”
“You make him sound selfish.” Wade crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t make him sound that w
ay. He was.” Connie shrugged. “His loss, because what he couldn’t see was that Billy would have enriched his life far beyond the precious few moments he cost. He would have gained infinitely more if he’d stopped being afraid.”
“So I’m afraid?”
Connie met his gaze and nodded.
“Of what?” he demanded.
“That you might get hurt,” she said very quietly. “You lost your father and Danny and in a way, Amanda. Your family is broken. Only Silver is left, and if you let yourself be her father and someone claims her, or worse, she finds out about her history and leaves, you’re afraid of what will happen to you.”
Wade kept mute, but his pained dark gaze never left hers.
“The thing is, Wade,” Connie said, touching his arm as she spoke the hurtful words, “no matter whether you let yourself love her or not, Silver will leave you one day. Nobody stays forever. The only constant any of us have in our lives is God.”
“And how do you propose I deal with that?” he demanded, his tone stinging her heart with its oozing pain.
“You enjoy today. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is an unknown. All you can guarantee with Silver is right now,” she insisted softly. “God is here with you, waiting for you to embrace her and enjoy each second of the life He gives you together.”
“You make it sound so easy,” he raged.
Connie shook her head.
“It’s not easy. It’s terribly hard to live in the moment.” She swallowed. “Harder still to do the right thing even though you know it will break your heart,” she whispered, thinking of her father and whatever had prompted him to abandon her.
“So now you’re saying I should find her family?”
“You are Silver’s family,” Connie insisted. “And no matter what happens, that will never change. Unless you change it.”
Wade pursed his lips.
“But if it will ease your mind, or if you feel it will enrich her life to know others she’s related to, why not seek them out? Not now because you need time to build a relationship with her yourself. But someday you could ask them to be part of her world on your terms,” Connie coaxed. “Not because you want to give her up, but because you want to make her life fuller, because you want to give your daughter every opportunity.”
He still said nothing, but his eyes had darkened to almost black.
“Including the choice of whether or not to leave you,” she whispered.
He reared back, rage boiling in his eyes.
Connie longed to reach out and rub away the deep grooves beside his eyes, to put her hands on his shoulders and massage away the fear so he could see the truth.
“Someone who truly loves another wants whatever is best for the other, no matter what the cost to them. That’s the very definition of love.”
Some inner prompting told her to stop there, to let Wade think in peace. So Connie walked away from him, gathered Silver in her arms and carried the sleeping girl upstairs.
Back in her own room, she sat on her window seat and noticed that Wade had left the backyard. To think about what she’d said?
Connie squeezed her eyes closed. In her mind, she replayed the message with which that voice on the telephone had blown up her hopes and dreams.
If I remember correctly, your father had cancer. He received treatment but it returned and progressed so far his legs were amputated. I doubt he survived.
Eleven years Connie had spent searching for this man, hoping to hear the exact same words Silver yearned to hear. “I love you, daughter of mine.”
Wade wouldn’t say it, and now it seemed as if her father couldn’t.
Casting all your cares on Him, because He cares for you.
“I’m really good at giving advice, Lord,” Connie whispered as tears stung her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
“But I’m not very good at taking it. Please help me.”
Chapter Seven
“Amanda, can we please cease and desist from these constant wars?” On this Sunday morning, Wade dragged a hand through his hair, wearied by her harping.
“Constant?” she fumed.
“It seems like it. I’m not trying to be nasty, but you’re wearing me down. Every day you have some new demand.”
“I don’t think my expectation of functioning accommodation is a demand,” Amanda said in a huffy tone, her eyes spewing her disgust at him.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly. “Of course I’ll have the plumbing in your bathroom checked. But the way you ask—” He saw her stiffen as if preparing for battle and sighed. “Never mind. I’ll have the plumber come tomorrow morning, I promise. And I’ll ask Cora to cut down on the salt in your food. Anything else?”
“Plenty. But those two are the most troublesome.” She tugged at the hem of her suit jacket then threw her shoulders back. “Also, I would like to know your plans for Christmas.”
“My plans?” He sensed something big was about to break. “What do you mean?”
“You must be planning something with all that’s been going on around here.”
“Nothing unusual that I know of.” Where was this leading?
“Then—?”
Following the wave of her hand, Wade glanced around the room. It brimmed with festive decor. Lopsided angels balanced on coffee tables. Strings of popcorn and paper chains of colored paper dipped and bowed across walls and windows.
“I would prefer it if you would instruct that nanny of yours to stop polluting this house with her inferior decorations.” Amanda’s scathing gaze rested on a particularly unround wreath propped against a wall.
“Uh,” Wade gulped. He could imagine telling Connie to stop planning Christmas about as well as he could imagine Amanda enjoying the festive season.
“You can hardly find even a doorknob that isn’t adorned.” Amanda’s exasperation grew. “It’s not as if they’re well-done decorations either. They’re handmade.” She spat out the words as if they carried a bad odor.
“By Silver,” he said. “Who is only four.”
“Almost five. She’ll soon be going off to school. She should know what’s proper for an Abbot.”
“Proper? I did the same thing when I was her age,” he said with a smile.
“And look how you turned out.” Amanda sniffed in disgust. “I do hope you’re not planning some maudlin singsong around the fireplace on Christmas Eve.”
“No, I’m not planning that.” But Connie might be.
All at once, her eyes widened. “You’re not going to put up a tree, are you?”
“Why not?” he asked stupidly, then wished he hadn’t.
“Because they make a mess, drop sap onto the floors and smell up the house. It’s all silly and sentimental nonsense anyway.” Her voice had grown progressively more harsh.
“Amanda.” The time had come to stand his ground. Wade tried reasoning with her. “I know it’s a difficult time for you, and I empathize, truly. But Silver is a child. Every child looks forward to Christmas. Danny did,” he said quietly.
“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Amanda’s beautiful face hardened. “Not when you’re the reason he isn’t here.” With a shudder, her harsh mask dissolved, and a grieving mother slipped into its place.
Wade wanted to comfort her, but when she stormed out of the room he let her go, staring into the empty fireplace and wondering if he should plan on celebrating Christmas somewhere else.
“Am I interrupting?” Connie hesitated in the doorway.
“It’s fine.” Wade sank on the arm of the nearest sofa.
“Is something wrong?”
“Just that I can’t seem to say the right thing where Amanda is concerned.” He sighed, then noticed how well dressed she was. “Where are you off to?”
“Silver and I are going to church. I wondered if you’d care to join us?” She waited still as a church mouse while he thought it over.
Her hair, a mass of shining curls this morning, was pushed off her face with a wide red band that pe
rfectly matched the sash of her ivory dress. Connie seldom wore makeup, and today was no exception. But then, she didn’t need it because her skin glowed with health.
“Is this the day of her angel thing?” he asked, only then realizing he’d never really nailed down the date.
“No, that’s on Christmas Eve.” Connie moved into the study.
Wade noticed her slim legs, emphasized by the pretty red sandals she wore.
“But there will be a practice after church today, so I’m taking along a lunch.” She smiled. “Would you like to join us?”
Why not? What good would it do to sit here and stew about the information he hadn’t yet been able to unearth—information about Bella’s male friend, Silver’s father?
“I’d like to go,” Wade said and felt immediate relief about his decision. “David’s been nagging me about how long it’s been since I’ve been to church. I need to get back in the groove.”
“Good.” Connie smiled, and suddenly Wade’s day seemed a whole lot brighter. “Ten minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll meet you at the front door,” he promised.
She waved a hand at him and left. A few moments later, her voice was followed by Silver’s excited squeals echoing down the staircase.
Wade wasn’t going to bother Connie about Amanda’s concerns regarding decorations. The nanny was already doing everything he’d hoped she would to enrich Silver’s life. He’d watched her blossom under Connie’s tutelage, shedding the quiet reticent nature he’d noted on his last visit home. Silver was growing more confident in herself and the crookedly cut green trees, wobbling angels and garish garlands that hung throughout the house were helping her express herself. Wade had no intention of stopping that.
He made up his mind. This year, there would be Christmas in this house. A rich experience, as happy as Connie could make it. For Silver.
Amanda would just have to deal with it.
Wade pushed away the whispering inner voice that reminded him that if he found the information he sought, this might be the last Christmas he shared with Silver.
“God’s love isn’t like ours. He doesn’t get angry and give up when we don’t respond the way He wants.” The minister’s words pinged a resonance within Connie’s heart.