by Lois Richer
“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.
Connie prayed with all the fervor she had that Wade would finally yield and tell this darling child she was fixed immovably in his heart, that he would never let her go.
But the still, sma
ll voice inside her reminded her that she was not trusting God to work things out. She was again trying to arrange matters her own way by hiding a letter that could change everything.
The question was not about Wade. The question was whether she truly trusted God to work things out no matter what she wanted.
Convicted, Connie returned to the room and retrieved the letter.
Confession time.
Chapter Thirteen
Do you think my daddy loves me? Then why doesn’t he tell me?
The words dug a trench miles deep into Wade’s heart.
He snuck away from Silver’s room, down the stairs and hid out in his study, his mind whirling. Why couldn’t he tell her what she needed to hear? What was he waiting for?
Everything became a tangle in his brain, and he couldn’t seem to sort it out. Somehow his feelings for Silver were tied up in a knot of confusion. He prayed for clarity. Slowly the pieces began to fall into place.
He’d been waiting, biding his time for the right moment—actually, until he was certain no one could take Silver away. But the DNA results hadn’t come, and even if they had, there was no guarantee that would make Silver his daughter. Someone could contest the results, argue that he wasn’t fit to be her father.
And then what?
To send her away, let her go without her knowing that he loved her more than he loved his own life? It was unthinkable. Memories, dollhouses—what would they matter if Silver never knew he loved her?
Connie knew that, had known it all along. She’d tried to tell him over and over that what his daughter needed most was love. Dear, sweet Connie who’d steadfastly stuck by Silver, protected and cherished her the way her own father hadn’t. Connie, who knew what it was to long for fatherly love, had done everything she could for her charge. But as much as the nanny loved her, Connie couldn’t give Silver what she craved. That wasn’t the nanny’s job; it was his.
Tests—what did they matter? It was the heart that counted. Connie’s truth once more.
Wade rose, went to the shed and retrieved the dollhouse. He’d just manhandled it through the door when Connie appeared.
“Would you mind lending me a hand with this?” he asked. “I want it under the tree for Christmas morning. For Silver.”
“Sure.” She had something in her hand, an envelope. She probably wanted to slip it beneath the tree. But she put it down and helped him. Together they set up the furniture that had toppled in the move and rearranged the dolls in various rooms. Connie disappeared upstairs and returned with miniature Christmas decorations, which she helped him hang throughout the dollhouse.
Wade was more than aware of the many times their hands brushed, their glances met, the way she quickly shifted or turned her head. How could he have ever thought she was like that other nanny? Connie was right and good and more beautiful than ever in the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. She’d nurtured and protected Silver when he couldn’t, and even when he should have and hadn’t.
He loved her.
And for once the words didn’t scare him.
At last they were finished. There was nothing more to do. Wade rose and held out his hand to help her up. When she would have moved away, he grasped her other hand and drew her close.
Wade bent his head and kissed her. He smiled at her blink of confusion and inclined his head toward the ball of mistletoe hanging above them, attached by a white ribbon to the chandelier.
“Merry Christmas, Connie.”
“M-Merry Christmas,” she stammered.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re here, with us. You’ve done so much for this family, for me.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say. Wade cleared his throat. Say it, his brain screamed. For once, just say the words. “I’ve come to care a great deal for you, Connie.” Then he kissed her again, trying to show her without words what lay deep in his heart.
For a moment, Connie stood stiffly unresponsive. But then her arms crept around his neck, and she kissed him back so tenderly that Wade knew he’d been right to say it.
Connie wouldn’t betray him.
She was the woman he wanted in his life.
A second after that thought, she wrenched free of him and murmured good night, before fleeing from the room. Wade was going to go after her, but he thought better of it. He’d rushed her, sprung it on her without warning. She needed time.
So did he. He needed to think this through. Connie was the woman he wanted in his life forever. He couldn’t imagine coming home and not seeing her standing there, a smile curving her lips. Mealtimes and laughter—that was Connie. Joy in a few hummingbirds, pleasure in creating unique individual things for people she cared about. Protecting and cherishing the ones she loved. That was the real Connie.
She would never betray him.
That kiss under the mistletoe had assured Wade of Connie’s place in his heart.
But in spite of all that, a niggling voice of distrust would not be silenced. By now Connie knew he had money. The party tonight must have shown her he had some prestige in the community. How could he be certain those things wouldn’t eventually sway her?
Wade walked to his study and sat down behind the same desk his father had used. There on the shelf lay his father’s Bible.
If any lack wisdom let him ask of God.
“I need wisdom, God. I need to know for sure.” He opened the book and began to read, and as he did, Wade finally understood. Connie was the reason God brought him home. He thought he had to give up love, but God is a God of love and gives His children the very best gifts—love that grows and encompasses and includes. To refuse His gift was unthinkable.
Maybe Connie wouldn’t accept him. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way about him, though remembering her kiss was a pretty good indication otherwise. The thing was, Wade wanted guarantees, and God was saying life had no guarantees—except the guarantee of God’s love.
If Wade didn’t have faith in this love—if he didn’t trust that God would do His very best for him and act on that—he would never know God’s plan for his life. God had done his part. He’d brought Silver and Connie into Wade’s life. What Wade did now was up to him, depending on how much he was willing to trust God.
“Okay, Lord. From here on out, I’m trusting you.” Wade opened the safe in the study and lifted out the box holding his mother’s engagement ring. “Tomorrow morning, I’m going to tell her I love her and ask her to marry me.”
“Wade?” Amanda stood in the doorway.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, sliding the ring into his desk.
“Not until I say something.” She moved into the room, her face troubled. “I need to apologize to you and ask your forgiveness.”
“For what?” he asked in surprise.
“For not being the mother you needed. For blaming you.” She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. “I was trying to hurt you to rid myself of the pain I felt, and that was wrong. Connie helped me realize that God can heal hearts if we let him.”
“Yes, He can,” Wade said quietly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there after Bella died. I don’t know the whole story, but I know you were hurting, and I added to it.” She shook her head. “I blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault. I wish I could take that back, but I can’t. All I can say is that I’m proud to call you my son, and Silver is the most wonderful granddaughter anyone could have. She brings joy to this house, Wade. So does Connie.”
“Yes.” Wade walked over and wrapped his arms around Amanda’s tiny form. He held her while she wept for a past that still brought sorrow and then helped her focus on a future that could be filled with joy.
“Thank you,” Amanda murmured, completely ignoring that fact that her mascara had made black streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes were clear and filled with joy as she let go of him. She glanced at the desk. “What was in the letter?”
“What letter?”
“The one from South America. I happened to see Connie carrying it up
stairs. I thought she’d given it to you already.” Amanda shrugged. “Maybe she forgot.”
“Maybe.” But highly doubtful. Connie more than anyone knew how much he wanted to know the truth of Silver’s birth.
Wade’s niggling doubts were screaming now. Betrayed! Betrayed!
“Anyway, Merry Christmas, Wade. I hope you get everything you deserve.” Amanda kissed his cheek then hurried away.
Everything he deserved? Wade sank down on his chair and tried to stop thinking, but his brain would not be silenced. Connie had deceived him, kept back a letter she had to know he was waiting for. Why? Because she was trying to inveigle herself into their lives, so they would depend on her, so he would fall for her?
His mind in turmoil, his heart aching from betrayal once again, Wade went out onto the back courtyard to work off his anger by pacing around the garden. “God?”
The only response was a whisper in his heart. Trust. It kept replaying over and over.
But how could he trust again?
Connie walked upstairs, away from Wade, one hand holding the letter, the other pressed to her lips. He’d kissed her, and nothing had ever been so wonderful. She’d felt light as air, until his words had sunken in.
I’ve come to care a great deal for you.
Great. But caring wasn’t love. She would never love anyone as much as she loved Wade. But it was clear that he didn’t love her, not as she needed to be loved. That kiss was just part of the magic of Christmas that he’d been caught up in. It had nothing to do with her. Not really.
The same with her father—it was only a fantasy that she’d tried to convince herself would come true. He was gone. The words she longed to hear could never be spoken.
It was over.
Connie wept for everything she’d wanted, for the love she’d thought Wade might one day feel, for those precious words her father would never speak. She wept until there were no more tears and only one thing left to do. It was time to stop trying to control things, time to let the Abbots figure out their own futures. She didn’t know best. God did. It was time to accept His will.