Help me, Lord.
She trod downstairs, moving silently over the glossy hardwood until she came to the living room. She tapped on the door once then waited for an invitation to enter.
“Constance. Is everything all right?” Amanda Abbot glanced up from the magazine she was perusing. She’d spilled her tea over the lovely rosewood table and onto the white carpet but seemed oblivious to the mess.
“Oh, dear.” Connie stemmed her irritation and grabbed two napkins to sponge up what she could. “I hope that doesn’t mark.”
“Who cares? Wade can afford another one.” Amanda waved an irritated hand. “What did you want, Constance?”
Connie rose, inhaled and prayed for courage. Some noise outside the room drew her attention for a moment. Probably Cora, the Abbot’s cook, leaving for the night.
“Well?” Amanda’s eyes flashed with annoyance.
“Speak.”
“I wanted to talk to you—” Connie gulped and forced herself to continue “—about Silver.”
“What about her?” Amanda continued to flip through the magazine. “Is she sick?”
“She was upset by your comments about her father.” There, she’d said it.
“My comments?” Amanda’s lips tightened. She tossed the magazine away. “What comments, exactly, Constance?”
“Actually, it’s Connie. Plain old Connie.” She cleared her throat. “I believe you hinted that her father had forgotten about her. Silver was quite agitated by that.”
“Oh, fiddle.” Amanda huffed. “The child needs to hear the truth. As it is, she lives in a fairy tale world. It’s better to face reality.”
“But it isn’t reality, is it?” Connie asked quietly. “Her father couldn’t have forgotten about her when he sends her a gift every week.”
“Are you questioning me?” Amanda sounded outraged.
“You know that you only have this job because I allow it. I could have suggested many others to be my granddaughter’s nanny.”
But none of them would put up with your manipulations. It was the truth, but Connie didn’t say it. Amanda did not like to be contradicted.
She also did not like her stepson.
Or so it seemed to Connie.
“I believe Mr. Foster hired me because he knew I’d protect Silver. I’m not questioning you. I’m simply telling you that when you say these things about her father, it hurts Silver. And I know you don’t want to do that.” Connie paused to gather her courage. “Yesterday, you said her father had probably found another family in Argentina. Perhaps you didn’t mean for her to overhear, but she did, and she cried about it for an hour.”
“Then you weren’t doing your job, were you?” Amanda didn’t look fazed by her part in her granddaughter’s unhappiness. “You’re supposed to keep her busy and happy.”
“I’m trying to do that. I care a great deal for Silver. That’s why I’ve come to ask you to be more careful.” Connie refused to back down. “What you say could damage the relationship between Silver and her father. That’s not right.”
“What I say is none of your business. Pack your things and get out. You’re fired.”
Connie wanted to protest, but she knew it wouldn’t help. Amanda was not one to be swayed by others.
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” she said quietly. “I’m only trying to do what’s best for Silver. That is why I was hired, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Isn’t it, Amanda?”
Connie whirled around at the quiet but controlled voice that had come from behind her. A man identical to the picture on Silver’s night stand dropped the bag he was carrying beside his feet. He held out one hand.
“I’m Wade Abbot. I assume you are Connie Ladden, Silver’s nanny.”
“I am.” She shook his hand, felt the strength in his tanned fingers. He was so rugged looking and so handsome. A tiny shiver wiggled its way from her hand to her heart in a twitch of awareness. “I’m pleased to meet you. Your daughter talks about you constantly. She adores you.”
“Does she?” He studied her for a few moments then inclined his head. “I’d like to speak to my stepmother privately, Ms. Ladden. But when I’ve finished, I’d also like to talk to you. Could you meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes? I’ve been flying for seventeen hours and I’m starved.”
“Certainly, Mr. Abbot.”
“It’s Wade.”
“Yes, sir.” Connie forced herself not to look at Amanda as she left the room. She hurried down the hall, pausing momentarily to glance at herself in a mirror. She wished she’d had time to do something about her ponytail and lack of makeup before meeting Silver’s father. Not that it mattered. She was just the nanny.
And that’s all she intended to be. Romance was highly overrated.
“You’re not hungry again, are you?” Cora grumbled when she saw Connie. But her eyes twinkled. “Because if you are, I’ve left some chocolate cake in that cupboard.”
“Great. I’ll cut some for Mr. Abbot. He’s talking with Amanda just now, but I’m to meet him here. He’s hungry.”
“Wade’s back? Wonderful.” Cora’s round face wreathed in smiles, then as quickly saddened. “If I’d known earlier I’d have made his favorite pie, but…” She glanced at the clock.
“You have your granddaughter’s recital tonight, right? Don’t worry. I’ll heat some leftovers for him.” Connie hugged the older woman and helped her into her coat.
“Go on now.”
“You’re such a dear. This house has been filled with light and joy since you’ve come.” Cora hugged her back then frowned. “But there aren’t any leftovers to heat.”
“Then he’ll get eggs. I’m not a fantastic cook like you, but I can manage to scramble some eggs. Leave it to me.”
“Thank you, dear. I believe I will. Bless you.” The woman hurried away.
Connie assembled ingredients, set the kettle to boil and prepared the toaster. But when the slam of the front door shook the house, she decided to check on Silver. If she hadn’t already been awakened, the child would be overjoyed tomorrow when she learned her father was home.
Upstairs, Connie noticed Silver’s door was open wider than she’d left it. She hurried toward it then froze. Wade Abbot stood beside Silver’s bed, watching as the little girl slept. He stretched out a hand as if to touch her hair then quickly drew it away. Instead, he squatted beside the bed, apparently content to stare.
He was a tall man with dark brown hair cut short, probably to stem the riot of curls that now caressed the tips of his ears. Lean and fit, he had the kind of physique that came from hard physical labor. His shoulders stretched his faded chambray shirt, which he’d tucked it into a pair of well-worn jeans. His feet were covered by battered brown boots. Nothing about him gave away his status as head of a prestigious contracting firm.
Earlier, Connie had only caught a quick look at Wade Abbot’s face, but now with Silver’s bedside lamp illuminating it, she saw deeply set eyes beneath a broad forehead, chiseled cheekbones above gaunt hollows, a straight aquiline nose with a mustache beneath that partially hid his lips and a jutting chin that telegraphed grit and determination.
In slow motion he lifted something bright blue and fuzzy that released