Читать книгу The Holiday Nanny - Lois Richer - Страница 11

It was late and he was dead tired, but Wade plowed through the water anyway, forcing his arms to reach and pull, praying swimming would ease the tension of his body long enough for him to sleep.

Amanda had been at her finest today, pushing all his buttons with her references to the past, to the accident that had killed her husband and her son, both deaths she blamed on him.

“You killed my family.”

“My family, too,” he’d reminded her. “Someone ran into us, Amanda. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

But the words had rung hollow the first time Wade said them six years ago, and time hadn’t made them sound any better. He should have avoided the accident—somehow.

Winded and too tired to continue, Wade dragged himself out of the water. It took only minutes for the dry Arizona air to suck away the moisture. Then he pulled on his shirt and jeans over his swimsuit and stretched out on a lounger, staring at the stars above.

Where was God in all of this recrimination, he wondered. Did God blame him for killing his own father? Is that why Wade seldom felt comfortable in the home he’d loved as he grew up? Was that why he kept himself constantly on the go, to escape the guilt?

“Have I done something wrong?”

Wade’s eyes popped open. He jerked his head to the side, not needing to see her to know that Connie Ladden stood nearby. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, but not the slick form-fitting jeans most women favored. Instead Connie’s jeans looked elegantly tailored. He wondered if she’d sewn them herself, and then he told himself to focus.

“Is it so bad that you can’t even speak to me?”

“Excuse me?” Wade blinked, trying to reorient his thoughts. “Is what so bad?”

“Whatever it is that prohibits you from extending the common decency of answering my phone calls.” She was angry, evidenced by the rigid way she lowered herself onto the chaise next to his, and the glittering silver sheen of her gray eyes. Also, her mouth was pursed in a thin tight line.

“What calls?” He frowned, rubbed his forehead. “What was it you wanted?”

“Unbelievable.” She glared at him. “Absolutely un believable.”

It was not the time to speak, so Wade shut up and waited for enlightenment.

“I’ve been trying to get your consent for Silver’s enrollment in ballet. We talked about it that day at lunch two weeks ago, remember?”

A flicker of a memory returned.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were waiting for my approval,” he said finally. “I assumed you would proceed as usual and decide the matter for yourself.”

“But—” Connie frowned, peering at him through the dim light “—you’re her father, and you’re home now. The decisions about her should be yours.”

“And I am authorizing you to make them.” He swung his legs off the chaise, preparing to leave.

“Don’t you care about Silver at all?” The almost-whisper hit him like a baseball bat.

“Of course I care about her!” He rose, glared down at her. “How dare you—”

“I dare because I love that child. Her heart is breaking, because she never sees you. It’s as if you’re still in Argentina, only she doesn’t get the gifts anymore.” Connie rose too, eyes blazing. “She loves you so much, but you seem to have abandoned her.”

“Like your father abandoned you?” He regretted that the moment the words left his lips, but it was too late to take them back. “Connie—”

“Exactly like that.” She straightened and thrust her chin forward as if to repel his next attack. “At least I was eleven. Silver isn’t even five.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? It’s true.” Connie’s gaze dropped. “I was abandoned, left on a street corner outside a church in Grand Forks on Christmas morning.” That wound had never quite healed. “I couldn’t bear it if Silver had to go through what I did.”

“She won’t.”

“She will if you don’t show her how much you care,” Connie insisted.

Wade already had enough guilt about the way work had taken over the moments he’d planned to spend with Silver. He couldn’t let Connie think—what, that he didn’t love the child? But that was exactly what he was afraid of saying. He was scared that the heart-wrenching adoration he felt for that tiny child would kill him when he finally found Silver’s real family and she left.

“What is wrong?”

He blinked and opened his mouth to tell her to butt out. “Don’t try to blow me off. I’ve seen you sneak into her room at night and watch her. That’s not the action of a man who doesn’t care.” Connie sat down again. “Yet you refuse to make time for her. Why?”

He studied her, and like a thief, the notion crept into his brain—maybe this was Connie’s way of getting close to him. Maybe she was so anxious to find common ground between them that she was conning him into trusting her.

“Something’s changed? What is it?” Her big gray eyes blinked up at him.

“Ms. Ladden. I thought I had made it clear that there can be no relationship between us. I’m just not interested.”

Her eyes widened. She froze for a moment then laughed. Her face was flushed a brilliant red, but embarrassment didn’t stop Connie from speaking her mind.

“You idiot!” She stepped closer until they were almost nose to nose. “I’ll tell you one last time that I am not chasing you. I am not interested in you, Wade Abbot. I could never even consider a relationship with a man who leaves his daughter behind for months on end while he chases off to some foreign country.”

“Now wait a minute. You don’t understand—”

“Just to make this very clear,” she interrupted his explanation, her tone scathing, “I certainly wouldn’t bother myself over a man who ignores a sweet little girl so badly that she goes to bed every night asking herself what she has to do to gain her father’s love.” Connie stepped back. Her voice dropped. “Believe me, Mr. Abbot, you’re just not that appealing.”

Then she turned and walked away.

“I’m not sure Silver is my daughter.”

The words pinged into the silence of the night like resounding gongs. Connie jerked to a halt and stood there, with her back to him, for perhaps ten seconds. Then she turned.

“Why don’t we go inside?” she said quietly, her expression blank. “I’ll make us something to drink. Then perhaps we can hash this out.” Her eyes met his and held. “Because there is no way in this world that Silver is not your daughter. No way.”

A second later, she’d disappeared into the hedge, no doubt headed for the kitchen.

Wade had finally said it out loud, at last admitting the one thing he most feared.

“I’ve just given her a reason for us to work together,” he muttered as he climbed the back stairs to his room. “How stupid can I get?”

Stupid, maybe. But it was also a relief. He’d assumed, though it hurt him deeply, that the best thing was to stay away from Silver, not let her get too attached in case he eventually managed to do the right thing and return her to her real family.

He had a hunch Connie was going to tell him that was the wrong approach.

I’m not sure Silver is my daughter.

The starkness of Wade’s voice when he’d said that still hurt Connie’s heart.

A thousand questions tumbled around in her brain, but she stuffed them back and concentrated on mixing the hot chocolate packets with hot water.

Help me help him, Lord. Let me be a ray of light in his darkness.

“Miss Ladden—”

“Whenever you want to reprimand me, or when you suspect me of something, you always call me Miss Ladden. My name is Connie. And let’s get one thing clear.” She motioned for him to sit on one of the stools. “I am not here for any reason but that I want Silver to be happy. In order for that to happen, she needs her daddy. Okay?”

He nodded, took the cup she offered and began idly stirring it.

“So?” She sipped her hot chocolate and waited.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start with why you left Silver here when you went to Argentina,” she suggested.

“She was two. There was unrest in the country. I was working in a desolate region. It was no place for a child. To leave her in the city—” He shrugged. “Kidnappings are not uncommon in Argentina.”

“But then why go there in the first place?” Connie hoped he’d explain and not tell her it was none of her business—which it wasn’t.

“I didn’t have a choice.” Wade sighed, took a sip of his drink and began his story. “My father was not young when he met and married Amanda. I was twenty-four when their son Danny was born.”

“Was Danny a problem for you?” she murmured.

“No.” He smiled. “Danny was a sweetheart. Nobody who met him didn’t love that kid. He was a firecracker, and I adored being his big brother.” The smiled faded. “Danny and my father died in a car accident. And Amanda blamed me.”

“Why?”

“I was driving the car that night.”

The stark pain in those words kept Connie silent. She prayed wordlessly.

“It was my dad’s birthday. He loved golfing, so we’d spent the day at the golf course. Of course Danny had to come, too.” Wade’s lips twitched upward for a second. “The kid was a natural.”

Silence yawned. But Connie didn’t break it, sensing that Wade needed to do this in his own time, his own way.

“It started to rain—hard. I would have pulled over, but Dad wanted to get back home. Amanda had arranged a birthday party and he didn’t want to be late for it.” He took a deep breath and said the rest in a rush. “A car came up too fast behind us, slid into us and pushed us into oncoming traffic. Dad had turned, trying to calm Danny. The impact forced a rib into his lungs, which collapsed.”

“And Danny?” Connie held her breath.

Wade looked straight at her, his face like stone, his body hunched over as if he’d been struck.

“His seat belt came undone. Amanda later claimed it had never been done up. Danny was thrown from the car. He died.” His white face barren of all expression, Wade continued. “Amanda couldn’t forgive me. With Dad’s shares, she had a majority in the company. To punish me, she persuaded the board that I was needed in Brazil to finish a project. I didn’t argue. I just wanted to get away.”

He needed something to draw him from his private agony.

“Brazil is where you met your wife,” Connie said.

“Bella. Yes.” He nodded. But the joy she’d expected to see in his eyes wasn’t there.

“What was she like?”

“Beautiful in an exotic kind of way. Long, curly black hair and olive skin. Dark expressive eyes. Very Latin in demeanor. Bella loved to dance. She was always the highlight of any party.” The words came out like little staccato beats, without expression.

“And you had Silver.”

“Yes.” Wade smiled, but he didn’t continue. Why? Was his wife’s death too painful?

“Bella liked being a mom?”

“At first you could hardly get Silver out of her arms.”

At first, Connie noted. “You were happy?”

“I thought so.” Wade looked straight at her. “I had to be at the work site in the country during the week, but I always returned to Rio on the weekends.” He swallowed.

“One Friday I came home and there was a note. Bella had left me and taken Silver. I’d barely read it when the police called. She and the man she was leaving me for were dead. Smoke inhalation from a fire aboard their yacht. Mercifully, Silver was fine. I took her and came back home.”

“But you didn’t stay in Tucson.”

Wade shook his head.

“Can I ask why?”

“Why?” A wry half smile tilted his mouth. “I was very successful in Brazil. Profits were pouring in. I’d landed a whole new contract, bigger and better in Argentina. No way did the board want me at home.”

The board or Amanda? Connie mulled over his words, her brain assembling the pieces.

“I was ordered back.”

“So you left Silver here because you were worried about her safety,” she surmised, waiting for his nod. “What about Bella’s relatives?”

“Bella came from a very poor family. She had two sisters, but they were struggling with their own lives. They didn’t want a niece to add to their baggage.”

“It’s sad they’ve missed out on so much,” she murmured.

“Knowing Silver is something to be cherished.”

He looked at her, relief dawning. “Yes.”

Connie waited and waited, but Wade said no more. He finished his drink and pushed the mug away. She was going to have to press for more details.

“But why would any of that make you think you aren’t Silver’s father?”

Wade said nothing at first. After a moment, he walked around the breakfast bar and pulled a snapshot of Silver off the fridge. He held it up next to his face.

“Notice any similarity?”

Connie glanced from him to the picture and back. Finally, she shook her head. Wade reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a small square and set it on the granite countertop.

Connie sucked in her breath, stunned by the beauty of the woman smiling at the camera.

“Bella. She was very beautiful.”

Wade didn’t speak. He simply set Bella’s picture next to Silver’s. The truth hit Connie like a sledgehammer.

“Bella’s boyfriend?” she whispered. “The one who died?”

“Bingo. Blond hair, blue eyes.” Wade’s face didn’t alter as he returned the photos to their respective places. Then he sat again. “Now you understand.”

“I don’t really,” Connie murmured, unable to absorb the implications of his words. “There are such things as recessive genes.”

“As far as I know, there has never been a blond in my family. I’m sure the same is true for Bella’s.”

“But your name is on the birth certificate, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“Then you’re Silver’s parent. Who could dispute that?”

“A word on a piece of paper doesn’t make a lie true.”

Connie opened her mouth, but the words she’d been about to utter got stuck when she saw Wade’s face. Stark pain bled from his expressive eyes.

“I can pretend I’m her father, but that doesn’t make it so.”

“Pretend?” She leaned forward to peer into his face.

“Are you only pretending?”

“No! But—” he shrugged his shoulders, sighed. “Don’t you see my problem?”

“No, not really,” she admitted. “You have been the custodial parent of record for her entire life. Silver is healthy, happy and settled in the home that you’ve provided for her. Contesting that would be difficult.”

Wade blinked. “How do you come to know so much about parental rights, Connie?”

“Hang around long enough in the foster care system and you become very familiar with all the legal mumbo jumbo.” She tossed him a smile but refocused on Silver’s picture.

“Have you spoken with David about your worries?”

“I haven’t spoken with anyone—until now.”

“You have to talk to David. He’s a lawyer. He can make sure that no one can question your rights.” Something about Wade’s face made Connie stop.

“Maybe Silver would be better off with her real family,” he murmured.

“You are her ‘real’ family. She’s never known anyone else. Would you actually sit back and let Silver go?” She couldn’t believe it. She’d seen Wade’s face after he snuck into the little girl’s room each night. He loved Silver. “I can’t believe you care about her so little.”

He hunkered forward, his glare intense.

“It’s because I care about her so much that I came back. I bought up shares of the company while I was away. Amanda won’t be able to force my hand anymore.” His fingers fisted. “But what if Bella’s ‘friend’ had family who would love and protect Silver far better than I’m able to? What if she has half brothers and sisters who would fill her life with love and joy? What if—”

“I can’t listen to this.” Connie jumped up from her stool. She flung the mugs into the dishwasher and snapped the door closed while struggling to contain her temper. It didn’t work. “How dare you?” she sputtered.

“Uh—” Wade’s jaw dropped at her ferocity.

“How dare you refuse the wonderful gift God has given you? How dare you even imagine that God would allow you such a precious child without giving you whatever is needed to raise her?” Connie glared at him. “Your biggest problem isn’t your father’s or Danny’s or Bella’s deaths, Wade. Your biggest problem is you are afraid to give a wonderful little girl who asks nothing of you the one thing she craves. You’re a chicken. You can hardly wait to dump Silver on somebody else so you can hightail it back to South America and continue your isolation.”

“Now just a minute—”

“Isn’t it true?”

“No!” He was standing now, too, his face furious. “I’m trying to do what’s right for her.”

“Like you were trying to do what was right for the last nanny when you had David fire her?” Connie shook her head. “You’ll do almost anything to avoid commitment, won’t you? You’re like some of the parents who let their kids grow up at my foster parents’ home because they were too selfish to expand their lives to include everything that goes along with having a child in their world.”

“Parents like your father, you mean?” Wade snapped.

Connie ignored the bite of pain and nodded.

“Exactly like him. Tonight I spoke to a man who knew my father. Do you know what he told me?”

“I have a feeling you’ll explain.”

She ignored the snarly tone of his voice, because she knew he was hurting.

“Eleven years ago my father found out he had cancer. He dumped me because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to take care of me. He had some weird notion that it would be better for me to be taken in by strangers than to spend our last days together.”

“Maybe that was the right decision,” Wade murmured frowning.

“It wasn’t!” Connie had to make him understand. “If I’d known my father might be dying, I could have been there, had time to say the things in my heart and told him I loved him. Instead, I’ve spent every night of the past eleven years praying he survived and dreaming of a second chance to spend just one hour with a man who dumped me because it was easier. I’ve wasted years wondering where he was, why he didn’t come for me, if I wasn’t lovable, if I’m always going to be left behind when it comes to the kind of true love that the Bible talks about. The kind that hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things. Self-doubts and a boatload of questions—that’s the legacy my father’s ‘right’ decision left me, Wade.”

The tears came then, waves of pure sorrow drawn from the well of her pain. And there wasn’t a thing Connie could do to stop her heaving sobs.

A terrible silence yawned. Then a moment later, Wade’s arms enfolded her.

“I’m sorry, Connie. I’m truly sorry.”

After a few blissful moments, she pulled away, furious that she’d done the one thing she’d vowed would never happen with Wade Abbot. She’d allowed herself to act like the previous nanny whom he’d sent away. Now he would be really worried that she was after him.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Nobody ever means to hurt people, Wade. But that doesn’t stop it from happening.” She stepped back, fighting to regain her composure. “Thank you for telling me your problem. I promise I won’t share it. But it seems to me that you have a decision to make.”

“I do?”

“Yes.” She paused, forming the words in her head before she spoke them so their impact would force him to think about the effect of his actions on Silver.

“What decision would that be?” Wade looked impatient and frustrated.

“Whether or not you believe Silver is worth fighting for.”

Wade said nothing, simply glared at her. Connie walked upstairs, pausing by Silver’s door. She dried her cheeks and smoothed her hair just in case Silver had wakened. Then she stepped inside the room.

The little girl lay curled in her bed, eyes closed, one hand under her rosy cheek, her lips tilted in a smile. She cuddled the parrot Wade had given her under one arm, her soft breathing ruffling its fur.

Connie knelt by the bed and silently poured her heart out to the One who always listened.

“He can’t let her go, God. It would hurt Silver so terribly. She loves Wade. She needs him in her life to guide her and love her. Please open his eyes.”

She heard the soft muffle of footsteps at the door, but she didn’t look up. A few moments later, the steps went away. Connie knew it was Wade, knew he’d been checking on the child he loved, whether he could admit that love to himself or not.

It was clear from his story that Wade had been hurt, badly wounded by the loss of loved ones and the treachery of a woman he’d thought he could trust. In his absence from Silver, those wounds had festered, fed by the poison of self-doubts.

What could she do to help?

When no answers arrived, Connie rose and left the little girl to her rest. She returned to her own room and the window seat where she could gaze at the stars and commune with God.

A lone figure sat on the pool deck, staring into the water, oblivious to the cool wind that had Connie quickly closing her window. Her heart went out to Wade. She had to help. But how?

And then it came to her. Perhaps Wade would think she was following in her predecessor’s steps, but Connie was going to spend the next few weeks figuring out ways to get father and daughter together.

“If he can finally understand that no matter whose genes she carries, Silver will never consider anyone but Wade as her father, perhaps he’ll understand why he has to be the man she needs.”

It was an awesome challenge, especially given Connie’s overwhelming reaction to being cradled in his arms. But it was natural, wasn’t it, to respond when someone empathized with you?

“Yeah.” Her conscience mocked her. “Let’s go with that. Let’s pretend you didn’t enjoy Wade’s embrace.”