Chapter 2

My expression softened, and I was about to answer.

Then she snapped impatiently.

"If he doesn't know how to handle a tricycle, he shouldn't be on the road. He put Mr. Foster in the hospital."

I looked down.

The cargo tricycle that had carried Dad through half his life had been crushed beyond repair.

Before sunrise every morning, Dad used to pedal it into town to sell breakfast.

Rain or wind, he never missed a day.

Even with a fever of 102, he refused to be late.

I always begged him to rest.

He would only say, "A little hardship won't kill me. If I can put you and Vanessa through school, I won't have any regrets."

"Vanessa, how can you say that to him?"

I shouted, "Dylan's father drove across the center line! How can you blame my father?"

Vanessa frowned. "Your father can barely read a traffic sign. Mr. Foster has a driver's license. Why would he drive on the wrong side?"

"Lucas." Dylan's eyes filled with tears. "You may hate me, but you can't lie. Leaving an accident scene is a felony."

Vanessa nodded.

"Even if he's my father-in-law, I can't conceal a crime. That's the professional duty of an attorney."

I bit my lip. "I want the road cameras checked."

Dad had lived an honest life. I would not let him carry this stain.

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "There aren't any cameras this far outside town. Are you using that to frame my father?"

Vanessa stepped in front of him.

"I know you want to protect your father, but the facts are the facts. As an attorney, I have a duty to stand up for someone vulnerable like Mr. Foster."

"A vulnerable man drives a thirty-thousand-dollar SUV?" I asked in disbelief.

"Dylan bought it for him out of love. What does that have to do with whether he's vulnerable?"

She reached for my wrist.

"You're too emotional right now. We'll talk another day."

"No need." I laughed coldly and shook her off.

"Vanessa, if you don't want to acknowledge my father as family, then we should..."

"Son!"

Dad tumbled off the chair and scrambled toward us. "Don't fight."

"This is my fault. Everything is my fault."

Without his prosthetic, he could not stand, so he crawled toward me in panic.

"I shouldn't have come into town. I caused trouble for you."

He struck his own leg in frustration. "A useless old man like me should stay on the farm. What business did I have coming here?"

"Dad, none of this is your fault."

It felt as though something had lodged in my throat.

I ran to him and lifted him onto my back, just as I had when I was young.

"We're done arguing. I'm taking you to the hospital."

His hands trembled. "They're only small injuries. Don't waste money."

"If I endure it, it'll pass."

Five years earlier, when a truck crushed his leg, he had said the same thing.

"Dad doesn't hurt. Save the money for yourselves. I can endure it."

He had spent half his life enduring.

"Dad, your son is grown now. This time, we aren't enduring anything."

There were no cabs on the rural road outside Ashwick, Franklin.

I took off my shoes and started walking with Dad on my back.

Vanessa grabbed my arm, struggling to contain her temper. "Stop making a scene."

"What will people think of me if you walk all the way to the hospital like this?"

She opened the rear door. "Get in."

Dad clung to my neck and urged me, "Go. Vanessa is giving you a way out."

"I can manage. You ride back to town with her. I'll return to the farm and buy a pain patch."

I bit my lip. At this pace, we would not reach the hospital before midnight.

I had no other choice, so I swallowed my pride and begged.

"Vanessa, for the sake of the man who raised you from childhood, please get him safely to the hospital."

"I'm not heartless." Her tone remained impatient. "Put him in."

I carried Dad to the back seat.

He clutched the hem of his faded shirt. "I'm dirty..."

"You're not dirty." I held back tears. "When Vanessa was abandoned outside our house, you never thought she was dirty."

"Why bring up ancient history?" Vanessa looked embarrassed. "Haven't I repaid him? Who bought his prosthetic?"

Dad had lost his leg while working construction to pay Vanessa's tuition.

The settlement from that accident had carried her through law school and into one of Ashwick's most prestigious firms.

I walked around to the front and reached for the passenger door.

Dylan stepped past me and took the seat.

"Sorry, Lucas. This is my place."

Vanessa started the engine. "The hospital is only twelve miles away. You can walk."

"I'll walk." I reassured Dad. "Vanessa is your daughter-in-law, and you raised her. She won't mistreat you."

The car sped away before the words had fully left my mouth.

Dad pressed himself against the rear window, crying as he watched me disappear.

I wiped my eyes and returned to the repair stand for his prosthetic.

He was frugal. If it vanished, he would grieve over it.

Marty Boyd, a gray-haired repairman in his fifties, asked, "Was that your wife?"

"She... she..."

He was an honest man and struggled for words until his face reddened.

At last, he sighed.

"I was filming the sunrise for my daughter. The video caught the other car crossing the line and hitting your father."