The Holiday Nanny. Lois Richer

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.”