Her Christmas Wish. Kathryn Springer
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She put out her hand. “I’m Leah Paxson.”
Ben said the first words that came into his head, something he never did. “You can’t be!”
Leah grinned. “The last time I looked in the mirror, I was.”
“But…” Words failed him. Again. This wasn’t part of his plan. She wasn’t part of his plan. Desperate times might call for desperate measures, but that didn’t mean he had to hire a college student to be his daughter’s nanny. Hadn’t he told the agency representative what he wanted? Sedate. Quiet. Dignified. And didn’t those qualifications translate into someone elderly?
“I’m sorry, Miss Paxson. Please come in.” So I can fire you.
TINY BLESSINGS: Giving thanks for the neediest of God’s children, and the families who take them in!
KATHRYN SPRINGER
is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper family,” she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter. She wrote her first “book” at the age of ten (which her mother still has!) and she hasn’t stopped writing since then. Initially, her writing was a well-kept secret that only her family and a few close friends knew about. Now, with her second book in print, the secret is out. Kathryn began writing inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
Her Christmas Wish
Kathryn Springer
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
—Jeremiah 29:11
This book is for the two special guys in my life, whom God has blessed me with:
Reid—who spent a summer patiently emptying the dishwasher, answering the phone and waiting until after lunch to go fishing so Mom could write in the mornings.
And to Pete—who steadies me during the ups and downs of a writer’s life and doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy when I tell him there are people talking in my head (they’re characters, honey, really!).
I love you both.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
“Are you telling me there’s a nanny shortage?”
Ben Cavanaugh tried to keep his voice even but he knew his frustration level had risen in direct proportion to the number of days he and Olivia had been forced to manage without Mrs. Baker.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Mr. Cavanaugh,” Mrs. Wallace, the director of Tender Care Childcare, said seriously. “We placed most of our nannies months ago, when school recessed for the summer. I’m just not sure if we can help you. When did you say you needed someone?”
Yesterday. That’s when he needed someone. Ben exhaled a silent, steady breath. If he were a praying man, this probably would have been the time to appeal to God to intervene somehow. He didn’t. Instead, he reluctantly moved to Plan B.
“Can you recommend another agency?” he asked, pinning the telephone between his ear and shoulder as he searched his desk for a pen. The only one he could locate had a bright pink pom-pom where there should have been an eraser. He tested it on a piece of paper and the ink came out: pink glitter suspended in clear goo. He definitely had to have a talk with his daughter about what constituted a proper writing tool!
“If you can give me a few more days, I’m sure we can help you,” Mrs. Wallace said.
Ben hesitated. Tender Care was his first choice. Not only did it have a wonderful reputation in Chestnut Grove, it was also the agency that had given them the woman Olivia had affectionately dubbed Nanny Baker—a soft-spoken, older woman who had lived with them the past seven years. Olivia had been three months old when Nanny Baker moved in with them and over the years they’d grown extremely close. He couldn’t imagine another woman taking Nanny Baker’s place in Olivia’s life…or her heart.
But the reality was he didn’t have a few days. “Mrs. Wallace, I appreciate it, but…”
A soft but audible click broke into their conversation. Ben knew what was coming next. He had call-waiting on his phone, too. “Will you please hold for a moment, Mr. Cavanaugh?”
“No problem.” He leaned back in his chair and while he waited he studied a photo of Nanny Baker and Olivia that he’d taken during an outing in Winchester Park. Olivia had made the frame herself from craft sticks, glitter—lots of glitter—and an equally generous amount of glue. The two of them were smiling for the camera but for the first time Ben noticed that Nanny Baker looked, well, tired.
Reluctantly, he had to acknowledge the fact that with each passing year it had become more difficult for Nanny to keep up with an active child, no matter how good-natured. And Olivia was good-natured, there was no doubt about it, but her body was as busy as her mind, and her tongue had both of them beaten for speed!
When Nanny Baker had told him that her only sister in Arizona was recovering from surgery and had asked her to move in with her, he’d assumed that it would be a temporary arrangement. He’d immediately started compiling a list of temporary replacements until Nanny had gently corrected him. She’d been considering retirement for several months and was looking forward to being close to family again. Not, she’d quickly assured him, that he and Olivia weren’t like family to her, but she knew this was something she needed to do.
Which was why they were now nannyless.
“Mr. Cavanaugh?” The director was back on the line, only now there was something new in her tone, a spark of excitement that hadn’t been there before. “I was just on the telephone with Leah Paxson, one of our nannies. She was hired six months ago by a family in Richmond and she just found out the children’s father has accepted a transfer to London that is effective immediately. She is returning to Chestnut Grove this afternoon and she, well, she’s available, Mr. Cavanaugh. Isn’t that wonderful news!”
Ben couldn’t believe it. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. The thought chased through his mind that maybe God had intervened, but he shook it away. He knew better.
“Did you hear me, Mr. Cavanaugh? I can set up an interview between you and Miss Paxson tomorrow.”
“She’s well-qualified?” Desperate circumstances or not, he wasn’t going to hire just anyone to look after Olivia. He owed it to both his daughter and to the