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“Yes!” Silver jiggled in her seat, her excitement setting the tiny bell on her jeans’ pocket tinkling. They added Darla’s name to the list.
“Who else would you like to invite?”
“Grandma?” Silver whispered with a glance over one shoulder. “It wouldn’t be nice to have a party and not ask her.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Connie agreed, wondering if Wade’s cranky stepmother would put in the effort to show up, especially since her histrionics yesterday had spoiled Cora’s lovely Thanksgiving meal.
“Grandma’s always sad,” Silver said. “Maybe a party will make her happy.”
“Maybe it will.” Privately, Connie doubted that.
“Can I invite the kids from my preschool?”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m not sure—”
“What’s going on here?” a low voice demanded.
“Daddy!”
Connie flinched in surprise. She’d come up with the party idea hoping to surprise Wade with a fait accompli, so that he wouldn’t have time to think up a refusal to help. The man never showed up at home midafternoon. Why today?
“We’re planning my Christmas party, Daddy.” Silver bounced off her chair and raced over to him. “It’s going to be so fun.”
“A party, huh? When is it?” He chucked Silver under the chin awkwardly and smiled at her giggles.
Connie gave him credit for at least trying to be fatherly.
“I don’t know.” Silver grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the table. “But you can help, Daddy.”
“Me? But I can’t.” He looked terrified. “I have to—”
“Please, Daddy?” Silver wheedled. “We have so many things to decide,” she said in a parrot-like voice that Connie recognized as mimicking her own.
“I’m sure.” Wade looked like he wanted to bolt, but to Connie’s relief he sat. “Okay, what’s first?”
“The date,” Connie said.
“What day could you come, Daddy?” Silver wiggled her way onto his lap. She smiled and patted his cheek.
“I’m invited?” He sounded bewildered.
“You have to be there,” Silver said in all seriousness, “because the other kids at preschool think I made you up.”
The pathos of those words wrenched Connie’s heart. She glanced at Wade and saw that he, too, was moved.
“Uh, how about a week from today? Would that fit in your schedule?” Connie suggested.
Wade’s head jerked up.
“Only a week?” He gulped.
“A whole week?” Silver mourned.
“You’ll be so busy it will fly by,” Connie promised Silver. “We have decorations to put up and party favors to make. Invitations to print. All kinds of stuff.”
“Oh.” For once Silver had nothing to say. But her big blue eyes brimmed with questions.
“What exactly are you planning to do at this party?” Wade licked his lips like a man in the desert craving water.
“Games, food, singing. All the things kids do at a party.” Connie paused. “It is all right, isn’t it?”
“A little late to ask me that,” Wade mumbled, glancing at Silver’s bent head meaningfully.
Connie studied the paper in front of her. Because if she looked up and met his stare, he’d see that she deliberately hadn’t told him of her idea in case he vetoed it.
“Oh, never mind,” he said, obviously disgruntled. “Plan away.” He moved as if to rise.
“But I’m going to need your help,” Connie blurted. It didn’t take a genius to read his skepticism. “With a game,” she said. “I can’t do it alone.”
“Why not?” he said, with one eyebrow tilted. “You’ve managed this far.”
“I can’t handle a whole treasure hunt on my own.” It was an off-the-cuff response, the first thing she thought of, but Silver’s gasp made Connie wish she hadn’t said it aloud in case she couldn’t deliver.
“The other kids would really like a treasure hunt, Daddy,” she said, threading her arms around his neck.
“So would I. Please?”
Wade held his little girl delicately, as if afraid she’d break. His fingers hovered over the gossamer silver hair as one would approach a butterfly and drew away just as quickly, fear chasing doubt as he eased out of Silver’s exuberant embrace. “Please, Daddy.”
In that instant, Connie pitied Wade Abbott. He wanted to love Silver, she knew he did, though fear held him in its steely grip. Still, Silver was a powerful motivation to let go. With her blue eyes and adoring begging voice urging him to grant her request, most men would be putty in her hands. Poor Wade didn’t stand a chance.
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