Page 90 of Return of the Bad Girl (Rock Canyon, Idaho 4)

“Yes,” her father said, his tone clipped.

A small part of Caroline pitied her dad. He had put his faith in a man who had violated that trust. It had to sting.

Then again . . .

“We don’t need to talk about the investigation right now,” he said, taking another drink of his water. “I want to talk about this man you’re living with.”

Oh, no, we are not going there. Struggling for another subject, Caroline decided to push his buttons a little. Since he was in a good mood and all, she might as well try to get him to bridge the gap between him and her sisters.

“Or we could talk about this newfound humbleness and how it’s going to lead you to Val’s doorstep to apologize for being a judgmental ass.”

“I will not. If your sister wants to throw her life away on a lowlife farmer who will never—”

“That lowlife farmer is a veteran who loves your daughter. You should be proud that she chose a good man, even if his pedigree isn’t what you were hoping for.”

Her father spluttered angrily. “Caroline—”

“No, you need to accept the fact that your daughters are grown and are starting their lives. We are not asking for your permission; the only thing we want is your blessing. Your acceptance of who we are. You don’t have to like our spouses, our professions, or what we chose to do with our future; those are our choices, not yours,” Caroline said, emotion clogging her throat. “You’re right. You weren’t much of a dad to us growing up, but you can take this opportunity to change that now.” Reaching out, she took his softly wrinkled hand and said, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to love me.”

“Oh, you’re my daughter. Of course I—”

“No!” Caroline shouted, dropping his hand and standing over him. “Don’t you dare say you love me like it’s so obvious, how could I stupidly miss it? When you love someone, you show that person every day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t remember Mom hugging or kissing me, but with you . . . I don’t have any of those good memories. I remember the times you told me to try harder, to do better, to be the best.”

Her father didn’t speak for several minutes. Finally he said, “That’s how I showed you . . . I tried to make you three into productive members of society.”

“That’s not love, Dad,” Caroline said, sniffling. “If you had truly loved us, seeing how miserable we were would have broken your heart.”

After several moments, Edward stood up.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. He held it out to Caroline, but when she didn’t take it, he set it on the couch. “This is for you.”

As hobbled to the door, she stared at the envelope with warring emotions. “What is it?”

“Open it and see,” he called from the doorway. “And Caroline?”

“What?” she said.

“I just don’t want to see you make any more mistakes,” he said, opening the door. “You’ve come so far and surpassed my expectations. You know, I gave you six months before you’d come home, begging to be taken back.”

“I guess I proved you wrong, huh?” Caroline said, watching the man she’d once thought larger than life lean on his cane.

“Yes, I suppose you did,” he said, starting to close the door.

“Hey, Dad,” she called.

“Yes?”

“Go see Valerie,” Caroline said, picking up the envelope. “Out of the three of us, she’s the only one who loved you enough to try to follow the plans you laid out for her. She should get points for that.”

Her father didn’t answer as he shut the door, and Caroline sat down heavily on the couch, the manila envelope in her lap.

That was probably the oddest yet most honest conversation you two have ever had.

And it had only taken thirty years.

Staring down at the envelope, she slowly twisted the metal prongs and the flap sprang up. She wasn’t sure what she would find. Had her father dug into Gabe’s past and found something? Was it all the dirt he had collected on Kyle?

Dumping the envelope upside down, she let the contents fall next to her on the couch.

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