Her Christmas Wish

“Of course,” Leah said, her sense of humor surfacing despite her agitation. It was one of the things that she’d learned over the years—to look for the joy in every situation. She deliberately widened her eyes. “You mean Mrs. Baker didn’t wear hers?”

Ben stared at her. She knew he was intelligent, but somewhere along the way his sense of humor had definitely slipped its track.

“That was a joke, Mr. Cavanaugh.”

“Oh.” He forced a smile.

“This is my confidence outfit.” He was still looking rather uncertain, so Leah realized she needed to explain. “Last summer I lived with a family whose oldest daughter was thirteen and very shy. I encouraged her to try out for a summer play at the high school and we went shopping before the tryouts for a confidence outfit. She let me pick it out. When the time came for me to leave and I had to interview with a new family, Christine took me shopping. Only that time, she picked out my confidence outfit. I promised her I’d wear it every time I had a new interview.”

“So the boots…”

“You’ll never see them again.” The truth was she loved them. But if she had to choose between her favorite footwear and the chance to meet Olivia Cavanaugh, the boots would be banished to the back of the closet.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with them,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

“Is there anything else, Mr. Cavanaugh?” She really needed to find a quiet place to fall apart. At least she’d just discovered a hidden benefit of her boots—they prevented her ankles from shaking. “Did you want to check my umbrella to make sure there’s not a talking parrot on the end of it?”

At the look on Ben Cavanaugh’s face, Leah wished she had a rewind button on her lips. People told her she had a rather offbeat sense of humor and even though Ben had started the whole Mary Poppins thing to begin with…

“A joke, right, Miss Paxson?” he ventured quietly.

She nodded, not trusting herself to say another word.

“We’ll see you tonight.”

She ducked toward the door.

“Miss Paxson?”

Leah paused.

“Bring your umbrella.”

Ben knew the exact moment when Leah’s honeydew-on-wheels pulled into the driveway. Olivia, who had had her face pressed to the window for almost an hour, gave an excited shriek.

“Daddy, she’s here! Miss Paxson is here!”

He plucked the dishcloth off his shoulder, triple-folded it and hung it over the sink. “You can let her…”

The front door slammed.

“In.”

He shook his head, realizing that his concern over Olivia accepting a new nanny had been wasted energy. From the time he’d picked her up from school she’d asked him a million questions about Leah. Then changed the order and asked them all again.

While he made supper, she’d taken it upon herself to dust Leah’s room, even though no dust had dared to settle there while Nanny Baker occupied it. Olivia had even put some of her favorite stuffed animals on the bed as a welcoming committee.

He knew he should be relieved that Olivia wasn’t grieving over Nanny Baker’s departure but he still felt a bit uneasy. Especially since Leah Paxson was only with them on a trial basis.

He still thought she was too young. And too unconventional. And too…he clamped down hard on the next thought before it could surface again.

Nanny Baker had fit smoothly into their lives. The evenings in his home were generally quiet and orderly. By the time he got home from work, Olivia and Nanny had already eaten supper. Olivia had her bath while he watched the news or read the paper. Then, he helped Olivia with her homework. Nanny Baker read to her. He tucked her in. Together, they had been a well-oiled machine. Shortly after Olivia went to bed, Nanny Baker retired to her room, giving him the freedom to stretch out on the sofa with a bag of microwave popcorn and the latest bestselling suspense novel.

Why did he have the uneasy feeling that Leah was going to be the proverbial wrench in that well-oiled machine?

Ben exhaled slowly. More than anything, he wanted Olivia to be happy. In a sense, she’d lost two mothers. The first was her birth mother, who Ben had been told was a teenager when she’d had Olivia and given her up for adoption, and then Julia, who’d fallen in love with her on sight but had had only two precious months to hold her.

He tried to do the best he could, but many times he felt ill-equipped to handle the enormous responsibilities of being a parent, especially now that Olivia was getting older. With his mother living in Florida, he’d had to trust Mrs. Baker to provide a feminine influence in his daughter’s life.

Now the question was, could he trust Leah Paxson?

Twice on the way to the Cavanaughs’ home, Leah felt a wave of panic wash over her. When she was half a block away, she was tempted to call Mrs. Wallace and tell her she had decided to turn down the position.

She’d spent the afternoon sifting through the box of photos she’d inherited when her mother passed away, trying to come to grips with the fact that Olivia Cavanaugh was the baby she’d given birth to. Seven years ago. The child she never thought she’d see again. Not only was her resemblance to Leah’s mother uncanny, but Leah could see Olivia in the pictures taken of her as a child.

Now, as she turned the corner that took her into the quiet neighborhood where the Cavanaughs lived, she struggled with what to do. She knew Ben Cavanaugh wouldn’t hire her if he even suspected she was Olivia’s biological mother. He wouldn’t understand her motive….

What is your motive? The question rose up and mocked her, but it was her heart, not her head, that responded. She wanted to know Olivia. And even though she had no intention of hurting her, Ben Cavanaugh wouldn’t care. His first instinct would be to protect his child.

My child…

She whispered the words out loud and then, as the house came into view, she saw a face in the living room window. And then a blur of pink and lavender rushing down the sidewalk toward her car.

God, help me. I don’t think I can do this.

Immediately, the suffocating weight disappeared and she was able to breathe again.

There was a light rap on the passenger window of her car. Leah dared to look over and saw Olivia’s smiling face looking in at her. She slid out of the car and tested her knees, wondering if they were going to do their job and hold her upright.

“Your car is a funny color.”

Now Olivia was right beside her, her eyes bright and curious. Her finger traced a crooked path down the hood of the car.

Leah felt hot tears prickle her eyes as her heart struggled to absorb every detail about Olivia Cavanaugh. She was small for her age. Her hair had been expertly braided into matching pigtails. She was missing a front tooth. Her fingernails were coated with pink polish.

“Charlie is a little different.” Leah forced herself to concentrate.

“Charlie?” Olivia’s head tilted to one side, reminding Leah of a little bird.

“That’s its name. And your name must be Olivia.”

“Yup. But our car doesn’t have a name.” Olivia giggled.

As used to the sound of childish giggles as she was, this one went straight to her heart. Leah had expected Olivia to be shy, perhaps even resentful, of the woman taking Mrs. Baker’s place. She hadn’t expected the little girl to be so open and friendly.

When Olivia slipped her hand into Leah’s, Leah caught her breath.

“My daddy told me all about you,” Olivia chattered as they made their way up the sidewalk. She lowered her voice a little. “He said you don’t like the slide.”