Timekeeper (Timekeeper #1)(99)

“All yours,” she said as his father inspected it. He had bemoaned the loss of his own auto, but now his face lit up like a boy’s. “Had to put in a little extra time at work, but I thought it was time for a change.”

Danny looked at her. All the late nights she was gone, Danny had been convinced it was because she couldn’t stand to be in the same house as him, when all the while …

“Mum,” he began, but he couldn’t find the words. She gave him a tremulous smile. There were still broken pieces at their feet, but in this moment he felt one slide back into place. It was only a matter of time before they replaced the rest.

After Danny and his father played around with the settings and took the auto on its maiden drive—it ran beautifully—Cassie came over to share in their delight. She immediately asked to take apart the engine, to which Danny gave a firm and non-negotiable no.

“It’s one of the newer steam models,” she said, stroking the bonnet. “Much more dependable.”

“It’s really a marvel. You were right, I should have gotten one sooner.”

“See? And yet you never listen to me.” She peered at the driver’s seat. “Will you let me install a new holster?”

“Of course.” He had seen Cassie since the freeing of Enfield, had tripped over his words in his haste to thank her, and to say that she had saved his life. He hadn’t quite expected her to burst into tears and hug him so hard his ribs creaked. It wasn’t the way she’d cried when William died; this time it was with relief.

Cassie leaned against the auto and folded her arms. “So what’re your parents going to do now? Your mum still thinking of taking the new job?”

Danny leaned against the fence across from her. “I don’t think so. Not now that Dad’s back. Honestly, I don’t think she cares where she lives so long as he’s there.”

Cassie nodded, then ran her fingers over the auto’s black finish, unable to help herself. “Well, she did a fine job, picking this beauty out.”

“I think I’m in love,” Danny said.

Cassie looked at him from under her eyelashes. “Speaking of which, what exactly is going to happen now?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You know. You and the ‘blond bloke.’”

Danny looked up at the sky, which was churning with snow clouds that would unleash their burden sometime soon. He reached into his pocket to touch the small cog there, feeling along its edge with a fingertip.

“Did they suspect anything?” Cassie asked, worried by his silence. “Will you be able to see him again? Don’t tell me they sacked you!” When Danny remained quiet, she shoved him. “Tell me, then!”

Danny breathed in deeply. He could smell the snow on the way. “Well …”



His father was told about Matthias, of course. There was no easy way to go about it. Christopher’s disposition remained relatively somber for a few days. When that cloud passed, and they were all smiles again, Danny asked if he was all right.

“It’s a shame that it had to happen to such a good man. He was good, Danny. Was. I don’t know what happened to him.”

“He fell in love. He grew selfish.”

“True love isn’t selfish, Danny.”

They were in the kitchen, sitting at the table while Leila fried eggs. His parents exchanged a small, meaningful smile. “True love is selfless. Sometimes it means you fight for it, and other times, it means you need to let go. You’ll learn that for yourself, one day.”

Danny bit the inside of his cheek. “Dad …” He cleared his throat when Christopher looked at him. “I’m sorry. About Maldon.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“But I told you to go. None of this would have happened if—”

“If Matthias had done the right thing,” his father finished. “He should have known better.”

Danny pushed the bacon around on his plate. He felt his mother’s eyes on him, saying what Danny already knew: they couldn’t tell Christopher about Colton. Not yet.

Not everything.

His father called him to the door when the post arrived. “Something for you.”

“For me?” Danny never received letters except for payments, but he hadn’t received any of those since being fired.

“Says your name right here.” Christopher handed it to him with a sad smile. “God, every time I see you is a surprise. You’ve grown so much.”

Danny flushed and took the envelope. On the front was his name, but no return address. Someone must have shoved it through the mail slot.

“I’ve got an idea,” Christopher said. “Let’s take a walk to the confectioner’s. Grab ourselves some gingerbread.”

Danny returned his father’s smile. “I’d like that.” He slid his thumb under the flap and tore open the letter, which was only one page. While Christopher looked through the newspaper—“Looks like those tower protests have started up in India, can you believe it?”—Danny quickly read the short message.

Do not think this is finished.

You know something.

We’ll be watching.

“Ticker?” His father looked up to see Danny standing rigid in the entryway, his face pale. “What’s the matter?”