Page 49 of One Knight Stand

“I was just leaving,” he admitted. “I knew you would figure out the riddle, Angel. I was only worried you’d been followed or had abandoned the meeting because it wasn’t safe. Then I heard someone shouting and suspected I’d been made.”

“No one followed us,” I assured him.

When we got closer to the boxcar, Wally spotted us and ran toward us. “Angel, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Wally, this is my dad.”

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, sir.” Wally held out a hand and they shook. “We were afraid we’d missed you. Unexpected flat tire.”

“So I’ve heard. I’m finally pleased to properly make your acquaintance.”

“You’ve heard of me?” He chuckled at himself. “Well, of course you have.”

My dad smiled. “I’ve actually admired some of your handiwork. You have quite a talent behind the keyboard.”

“Whoa. Did you hear that, Angel?” Wally said, turning toward me. “My reputation at the computer precedes me. Just so you know, sir, I do have talents that stretch beyond the keyboard. For example, Ididaccept the most dangerous part of this mission—getting Angel here.”

“Indeed. Thank you for watching out for my daughter.”

“You’re welcome, although I’m sorry about the flat tire. And, if I’m honest, I don’t think I could have changed the tire without her.”

“Wally has been great, and all my UTOP teammates helped get me here,” I said.

“I’m so thankful you have them,” my dad said. “Now, let’s go to the boxcar and get out of the open.”

We climbed up the stairs and went inside. My dad turned on a flashlight so we could see each other. Dust coated everything, and I caught the scent of molded wood. I coughed a couple of times, wrinkling my nose.

“Are you okay, Angel?” Wally asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The irony of that comment was not lost on me. “I’m good, Wally.”

“I gave her a less-than-enthusiastic greeting,” my dad said. “I’m sorry.”

“Really, it’s okay,” I said.

For a minute, the three of us stood awkwardly, not sure how to start the conversation. I studied my dad by the light of the flashlight. Tousled brown hair that looked like it had been cut by his own hand, piercing blue eyes, and cheeks and a neck that hadn’t seen a shaver for a least a few days. He was thinner than any of the pictures I’d ever seen of him, but there was no question that the man in front of me was the man I’d met in the café, who’d saved my life.

My father.

How had I not known that the first time I’d seen him in the café?

He was watching me, guilt and worry playing across his face. The man who had been a ghost all my life now stood in front of me. I’d prayed for this moment so many times. Now I’d found him alive. But instead of the happy, joyful reunion I’d imagined, we stood in a dark, cold, abandoned boxcar about to discuss ways to save my mother’s life.

Tears formed in my eyes. I blinked hard to keep them from spilling. Before I thought too hard about it, I launched myself into his arms, hugging him tightly. It was something I’d wanted to do all my life, and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity regardless of the reason fate had brought us back together.

He hugged me back, gently pressing my head into his shoulder. “Oh, Bitsy. I’ve wanted to do this for fourteen years, but wasn’t sure I deserved it. You have no idea how I’ve missed you. Missed my entire family.”

Tears slid down my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, burning this moment into my memory.

After a moment, he pulled back, framing my face in his hands. “We have so much to talk about and no time to do it now.” He brushed away my tears with the pads of his fingers. “I’m so sorry, Angel. Sorry for everything that has brought us to this minute. But right now, we have to focus on getting your mom back safely. That takes priority over everything else.”

I managed to nod, not yet able to speak past the lump lodged in my throat. My thoughts swirled, and I had a million questions on my tongue.

“Well, I’m ready to help,” Wally said, breaking the moment. “Consider me at your service. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Wally. Where are you staying now, Angel? You expertly slipped your tails. I’m quite impressed.”

“Mr. Matthews, the vice principal of my old high school, just bought a farmhouse not too far from here. He’s planning to move in next week. He’s not in town right now—he’s visiting a sick relative—but he said we could use the farmhouse in his absence. We helped him a while ago—me, Wally, and Frankie—so now he’s returning the favor.”

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