Then stopped.
For one second, he remembered the woman’s final words from the previous night.
Then they made two mistakes tonight.
At the time, he had assumed she meant the transportation company had made one mistake by abandoning her in the storm and another years earlier by firing him.
He had driven her home because her wheelchair fit his old folding ramp.
She had insisted on taking his address before leaving his truck, supposedly because she wanted to return his daughter’s blanket.
He had given it reluctantly.
Now three SUVs sat outside.
Nobody needed three SUVs to return a blanket.
He opened the door.
Cold air swept inside.
The woman sat at the bottom of the porch ramp.
Behind her, the two men remained several yards away.
She looked up.
“Good morning.”
The single father folded his arms.
“You travel light.”
Her eyes flicked toward the SUVs.
“I tried to tell them one vehicle was enough.”
“And they ignored you?”
“Yes.”
“Comforting.”
A smile appeared despite herself.
Then she glanced at his bare feet.
“You’re going to freeze.”
“I was warm before a motorcade arrived.”
Behind him, his daughter called:
“Ask if they’re spies!”
The woman’s eyebrows rose.
The father closed his eyes.
“She’s four.”
“Are we spies?”
One of the men behind her answered before the father could stop him.
“No.”
The little girl appeared around the doorway.
“That's what spies say.”
The woman laughed.
A genuine laugh.
The father looked back.
“You are supposed to be eating breakfast.”
“I can't find my sock.”
“Then locate it.”
The girl pointed toward the woman.
“She has your blanket.”
The woman looked down.
The cream fleece blanket from the night before had been neatly folded across her lap.
“I do.”
The child smiled.
“You can keep it.”
The woman’s expression softened.
“That is very generous.”
“I have another.”
Her father looked back.
“No, you don’t.”
The child shrugged.
The woman smiled again.
Then her expression became serious.
“May we talk?”
The father glanced at the men.
“Who is ‘we’?”
She gestured.
“The man on the left is independent corporate counsel.”
The father’s posture changed immediately.
The woman noticed.
“The other is our newly appointed acting director of safety engineering.”
“Corporate counsel.”
“Yes.”
“You came to my house with a lawyer.”
“Because what you told me last night became considerably more serious after I made several calls.”
The father looked toward his daughter.
The woman followed his gaze.
“We are not here to threaten you.”
“That is exactly what people accompanied by corporate lawyers say before threatening people.”
The attorney several yards behind her almost smiled.
The woman said:
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Then let me explain.”
He hesitated.
Snow blew across the porch.
His daughter tugged the back of his shirt.
“Daddy, cold.”