Free The Holiday Nanny by Lois Richer Page A

little girl nodded.
    â€œI tried to tell you that they were fun and that you’d like listening to their stories, didn’t I?”
    â€œYes.” Silver frowned.
    â€œBut you wouldn’t go until you were ready, would you?” Connie looked at him as if asking permission to continue.
    Wade nodded. She was so much better at this than he.
    â€œBut then I got ready,” Silver said proudly. “I like the puppets.”
    â€œNow you do. But you found out you liked them when you were ready, not because I told you that you would.” Connie smoothed the static-laden hair that danced around Silver’s head like a halo. “That’s how it is with your grandmother, honey. When she’s ready, she’ll let God shine the light of Christmas into her heart, and it will push her sadness away.”
    â€œIt will?” Silver’s eyes widened.
    â€œYes. Because that’s what Christmas is all about,” Connie explained. “Christmas happened because God sent His love to heal us.”
    â€œOh.” Silver stood silent, thinking about it. “It’s kind of like my bells, isn’t it?”
    â€œIs it?” Wade asked. “How?”
    â€œWhen my bells ring, people always smile.”
    She was so smart, this precious little girl.
    â€œYes, they sure do.” Wade grinned. He stretched to his full height. “So would you like to come with us?” he said, looking at Connie. “We could stop by where you’re going, wait for you, and then go on to Winterhaven, if you’d like to come.”
    â€œI might be a while,” she said. She stood, but her gaze remained on Silver. “We could be late coming home.”
    So she thought of his place as home. That should worry him. Wade had never wanted the other nanny to think like that. But Connie was different. She didn’t take liberties. She was focused on her job—Silver. Not him.
    â€œCouldn’t Silver handle one late night?” Wade asked.
    â€œI don’t want to wreck your schedule, but if I recall correctly, she has no pressing engagement for tomorrow morning.” He waited for Connie’s assent, knowing Silver was watching them with bated breath.
    Apparently Connie also realized that little pitchers had big ears.
    â€œWell,” she mused in a thoughtful tone, “I don’t know. Sometimes when Silver doesn’t get enough sleep, she gets, well—”
    â€œI won’t be grumpy, Connie. I promise.” Her blue eyes darted from one to the other. “And I’ll go to bed early tomorrow night.”
    â€œWow, you must really want to go.” Connie chuckled.
    â€œOkay, for one night I don’t think it will hurt. But since we have our Sunday school practice tomorrow afternoon, maybe you can have a nap before it.”
    â€œBabies have naps,” Silver said, her voice oozing scorn. Then she looked at him.
    Wade lifted one eyebrow but said nothing. Silver sighed.
    â€œOkay,” she agreed at last. “A nap if I’m tired.”
    â€œThen let’s go.” He told Cora they were leaving, and she handed him a bag to drop off at Winterhaven. “I’ll explain later,” he told Connie. When Wade had stored it in the trunk, he opened the door and waited for Connie and Silver to climb in. Suddenly, he was feeling a bit of Silver’s excitement.
    The center was located in a part of town Wade hadn’t visited in years. It made him glad he’d driven Connie here and doubly glad he could ensure she’d leave safely. At least, it would be a good idea, if his car was still in one piece when they left.
    Inside the hall, a number of people sat waiting for the Sunday evening service to begin while others finished dinner. Wade and Silver took a seat in the back of the room as Connie approached the director at the front. Aftera brief conversation, he led her to a grizzled, whiskered man seated in a wheelchair. Connie held out