But as she pulled out of the long driveway and out onto the quiet country road, she saw her father run through the gate, waving his arms as he shouted after her. For a moment, she stared towards the inviting open road. Then, cursing herself aloud, she slammed on the brake.
Lilley closed her eyes, hear
t pounding as she leaned her head against the steering wheel. Then, slowly, she turned off the engine.
She climbed out of the car, turning back towards her father. He was wheezing loudly and his run slowed to a walk. But she didn’t take a single step. She let him walk all the way.
“You don’t know, do you?” he said in a low voice. “Before I found out about the baby, I thought that was the only reason you turned up here. Because you found out.”
“Found out what?”
He looked at her. “I’m dying, Lilley.”
She stared at him, not moving. “What?”
He gave her a wan smile. “That’s why Tiffany left.” He held up the lit cigar between his fingers and stared down at it. “Doctors give me a few months, maybe a year. I wanted you to marry Gerald because … then I’d have known,” he whispered. “That you’d always be all right.”
Trembling, Lilley looked at her father in the gray December light. She’d had a happy childhood, back when her parents had loved each other. Her father had taught her to ride a bike. Taught her how to weld. He’d taught her how to evaluate uncut gems, and the different names for the stones. He’d shown her, through his example, the value of hard work and big dreams. She exhaled.
“There’s no hope?”
He dropped the cigar, crushing it beneath his feet. “Nope.” His lips creased. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Lilley. First with your mother—then with you. But even I couldn’t be stupid enough to make this last one, and let you leave, knowing I might never see you again.” He lifted his head. “I do love you, Lilley,” he whispered. “And I’ve always been proud of you. I know I wasn’t always a good father, and I’m sorry. But before I die, I need … I’m asking—” His voice cracked. “—for you to forgive me.”
Lilley stared at him, her heart squeezing in her chest. Even her mother had forgiven Walton at the last. He’d treated them both badly. But she suddenly knew she wasn’t going to let him die alone.
Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head decisively. “Not going to happen.”
Her father’s face fell. Then she added with an unsteady smile, “There’s no way you’re going to die. I know you, Dad. Death itself wouldn’t be able to talk you into a deal you didn’t like.”
He exhaled. He looked up, and his eyes were filled with tears. “I told you that you needed me. That was a lie. The truth is—I’m the one who needs you.” He swallowed. “I swear to you, if I live long enough, I’ll be a better grandfather than I was a father.”
She felt a lump in her throat. “You weren’t so bad. Really.”
“No?”
“Well.” She gave him a crooked smile. “You did teach me how to ride a bike.” He smiled back at her. But as she started to reach out to him, the road suddenly rumbled and shook beneath her feet. She heard a loud honking behind her.
Turning in surprise, she saw a delivery van barreling down the country road, followed by a semitruck so huge it hung over the edges of the asphalt. The delivery van drove by, honking.
“What the devil?” her father sputtered, coughing.
“Abbott,” she whispered in shock. What was Alessandro’s chauffeur doing in Minnesota, driving a delivery van on this small country road?
The semi parked behind her car, blocking her on one side as the delivery van blocked the other. Confused, she started walking towards Abbott, who’d leapt out of the driver’s seat and was swiftly walking around to the back of the van.
“Abbott, what are you doing here?”
She stopped as he opened the van’s back doors. Looking inside, Lilley sucked in her breath, her hand over her mouth.
There was a knight in the back of the van. A medieval knight in full armor.
The knight pushed up his visor, and she saw Alessandro’s dark, handsome face. His warm black eyes were glowing with such adoration that her heart caught in her throat.
She exhaled, tilting her head to look up at him in the back of the van. She’d slipped on the ice and fallen into some kind of coma. She was dreaming. That was the only explanation for Alessandro wearing armor in Minnesota, standing in the back of a van, in front of a snowy white lake.
“What are you doing here?” she breathed.
“I’ve come for you,” Alessandro said, his eyes looking straight into hers. “I was a coward and a fool. Come back to me, Lilley,” he whispered. “Let me show you I can be the husband you always dreamed of.”