Chapter 1

"I'm fine. Don't let me make you late for work."

He hugged the broken prosthetic to his chest. "A repair won't cost much."

"Dad." I held him and fought back tears. "I have money. We're going to the hospital."

He shook his head. "Vanessa works hard for her money. Don't argue with her because of me."

"Who's talking?" Vanessa frowned over the phone. "The hospital keeps asking for payment. Remember to come take care of Mr. Foster. I'm hanging up."

"Go." Dad waved me away. "Don't make Vanessa angry. I can have this fixed at the repair stand."

I clenched my fist.

No son should leave his injured father on the roadside to care for someone else's.

I opened my mouth, but Dad pushed at me with his callused hand.

"Listen to me. Don't make me the old man who ruins your marriage."

He crawled toward the jars of homemade hot sauce that had spilled beside the wreckage.

"Vanessa likes spicy food. I sealed them carefully for her. Take them home."

A car sped past and crushed every carefully wrapped jar beneath its tires.

Dad stared. "Why did they break? I-I'll go home and make another batch. Vanessa likes it..."

"Dad!"

I couldn't hold back anymore. I rushed forward and pulled him into my arms. "We aren't making any more."

Vanessa stepped out of her car with Dylan Foster behind her.

Through the half-open door, I saw an enormous stuffed rabbit taking up an entire seat in the back.

Dylan had always loved rabbits.

Was that why she claimed there had been no room for Dad?

And the passenger seat was empty. Why had she refused to put him there?

I suddenly remembered the year she bought the car, when I had tried to sit beside her on the drive home.

She frowned. "Dylan and I agreed that the passenger seat is his. He'll be upset if he finds out you sat there."

I had answered without hesitation. "But I'm your husband."

"That's exactly why you should be understanding."

Vanessa opened the rear door. "Dylan grew up with one parent, and he's sensitive. You're practically his brother-in-law. Why can't you give him this one thing?"

After that one concession, I never sat in the passenger seat again.

But now a life was at stake. Did Dad still not deserve it?

I helped him upright and begged the repairman to lend us a chair.

"Lucas." Dad grabbed my wrist and shook his head hard. "Don't fight over me. It isn't worth it."

I patted his hand. "I understand."

He relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained anxious.

"Thank you for coming with me to document the scene." Dylan looped his arm around Vanessa's and blinked back tears. "My dad won't go to jail, will he?"

"Of course not." Vanessa sounded certain. "I'm an attorney. From what you told me, the other driver crossed the center line and caused the entire collision..."

Her voice trailed off.

At last, she seemed to remember her father-in-law, the man who had worked himself into the ground so she could escape poverty.

"Lucas? What are you doing here?"

Vanessa hurried toward me. "Where's your father?"