My first Heartland oneshot had a mainly good reception, so I decided to post my second for those that liked it. Please Read and Review!

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"You sure you're gonna be alright?"

Amy stared out the window of Ty's blue truck as though she hadn't heard him. She was not, in fact, sure she would be alright. In the past month her mother had died, she'd slept approximately four nights a week, her sister had showed up from New York as though she owned the place, Ty Borden had come to work at Heartland, and her father had started coming around, wanting to see her.

Amy finally turned away from the window and nodded slightly crookedly. She attempted to put a smile on her face.

"'Course I'll be fine. He's my dad, isn't he?"

Isn't he?

"Yeah, but…" Ty shrugged. "It's been like - ten years. A lot can change in that time."

No kidding, Amy considered, but she nodded anyway, finally convincing the smile to show. Ty's concern was touching.

"It's fine, Ty. Thanks for the drive."

The corner of his mouth turned up and he nodded affirmatively.

"Just call me if you need a drive back. 'Kay?"

"Okay." Amy nodded to make her point. She opened the truck door and stepped out, pulling her coat tightly around her. The location was an old-fashioned diner that had been off the highway for as long as Amy could remember. Tim had told her it was a safe place for them to meet and talk without the town's ears and mouth (Maggie) overhearing every word.

Ty pulled out behind her as she looked around, unsure. Was it the wrong place? Had Tim decided not to show up? What if-

"You came."

Amy whirled around, her hand going delicately to her chest. Tim stepped back, startled by his daughter's reaction. Her eyes were alert, nervous as her hand dropped to her side and she attempted to smile.

"You startled me."

She said it with a small laugh, but Tim was still concerned. He pushed it back.

"Wasn't sure you would come."

"Yeah, sorry about last time…"

Her wistful smile was quickly returned by Tim who reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"No harm done," he gestured to the diner. "Shall we?"

They found a small table inside and ordered their food. Tim watched Amy carefully over the table, but she was completely unaware. Her eyes roamed around the diner: over the tables and chairs, across the windows, scanning the floors as she looked anywhere but her father's face.

"I shouldn't have left that day."

Her head shot up to stare at him.

"It wasn't just leaving," she admitted. "It was never coming back…"

"You know I wanted to, Amy."

That half smile passed again, and then Amy said, "I know."

Her hand tentatively stretched across the table and Tim took it, his fingers wrapping around it.

"I told your sister, but I never got the chance to say it to you: I really am sorry about your mom."

Amy chewed on her lip, her eyes falling to the table as she murmured her thanks. A moment later she found his eyes again.

"If Mom had never died, would you ever have come and found us?"

"Of course I would have," Tim told her strongly. "I already had found you. I got a job close to you, praying I'd just catch a glance if you. But Marion didn't want me to be a part of your life, and that wasn't my choice when she was alive. Lou coming back into town was my opening."

It was a cruel statement, to say that losing one parent was the only way she could get the other, but Amy knew it wasn't his fault.

"Did you go to Mom's funeral?" Amy questioned. She didn't know why she wanted to know. It was just one of those questions.

"Kind of…" Tim sighed, examining the table. "I figured Marion's funeral wasn't the best place to get into a fight with Jack… so I didn't go there. I watched it, though. From the road. Left before everyone else. I figured causing problems wasn't the best way to re-introduce myself to the community."

"I appreciate that."

Her voice was very quiet.

"Which part?"

"Going to the funeral… not fighting with Grandpa at the funeral… all of it."

"I'd do anything for you girls, Amy."

She smiled at him softly, and then it slid off her face. The waitress delivered their food and they ate it in silence.

Every few bites, Tim glanced up at his daughter, concerned. The little five-year-old girl he'd seen her as had been bubbly and excitable. From what Lou had told him, too, Amy was still a happy, funny, sweet girl. No… this solemn, grave child was very recent.

When the waitress delivered the check, Amy reached for her wallet, but Tim flatly refused. He payed for the meal and then helped her out of the chair and into her coat.

"I can take you home," he offered, and then, to avoid any misunderstanding, "Or, we don't have to go right home. I'd love to spend more time with you."

He showed her the perimeter of the ranch he worked for and drove past his house to show her where it was. Finally, they pulled up to a small lake half surrounded by trees.

"Do you remember?" Tim questioned. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "I taught you how to fish here. We'd come here-"

"Every Friday," Amy cut in. She smiled at him. "Yeah. I remember…"

She opened the truck door and slipped out, closing it behind her. Tim watched her walk out onto the boardwalk, all the way to the edge. Her feet shuffled slightly and Tim resisted the urge to be worried she'd fall in. She wasn't five anymore.

Slowly, heartbreakingly, Amy's arms slipped around her waist, hugging herself tightly. She looked forlorn, wrapped up in her own cold embrace, the icy wind whipping at her hair.

Tim couldn't watch anymore.

He hastily got out of the truck and strolled over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder as he arrived beside her. She didn't even look over at him.

"I miss Mom," she whispered.

His arm tightened around her.

"I know you do, Honey."

"I miss her so, so much…"

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head and then took hold of both of her shoulders, turning her to face him. She was shivering, her hands trembling as she kept them tightly around herself, and her face was twisted in pain, be it physical or psychological.

"I know, Amy. I know…" he told her quietly. "Try not to dwell on it. It only makes things harder."

Amy pushed away from him, her face suddenly furious.

"You just want me to forget about her!" she shouted at him. "Forget what you did to her - to us!"

Tim reached out to grab her again, even as she fought him off. He was stronger than her physically, so she continued berating him.

"You go away for ten years. Ten years! Then when my mom dies, you come back, claiming that it's her fault you didn't come back before that!"

"Well…" Tim attempted to defend himself. "It was Jack, too… mostly, in fact, just so you-"

"I. Don't. Care!" she yelled at him. "I spent ten years without you. Yes: I had Mom. Yes: I had Grandpa. Yes: I had Lou, to a degree. Yes: I had friends, and even a boyfriend at one point… but where were you?"

He stared at her, not touching her, waiting for her to finish. Tears started running down her face as she lifted her eyes to meet her father's.

"You weren't there," Amy shouted, and then her voice and eyes dropped. "And I really wanted you to be…" she finished quietly.

Her eyes flickered closed, her shoulders trembling with the force of her sobs. Tears continued down her face without rest, the wind blowing her face and making her even more cold. She felt Tim's hands on her shoulders again and pushed him away.

"Don't-" she gasped for air, "Don't you dare!"

But his hands had wrapped around her biceps, holding her steady even as she tried to push them away. He knew the fight would leave her at some point, and he was willing to wait for that to happen, however long it was. It was his stubbornness, after all, running through her bloodstream.

And then, all at once, she was still. For only a moment her breathing was steady, her shoulders relaxed, and her face straight… and then she inhaled, let out a sob, and launched herself into his arms.

It was what he'd wanted, but certainly not what he'd expected her to do. His arms quickly went around her lest she back away again, but she clearly wasn't planning to go anywhere just then.

Her face was pressed into Tim's coat, her arms around his waist, holding on as though for dear life.

"It's okay, Amy," he told her consolingly. "It's alright…"

"I… just… can't…"

He could barely make out the words, choked into the front of his shoulder as he held his daughter close.

"Can't what, Amy?"

"Can't do it anymore-" she cut off in a sob. "I can't keep going, Dad."

"Yes, you can," Tim told her gently. He tightened his arms around her. "You can because you're brave, and strong. And your smart, and kind… and you can do anything you put your mind to."

"I don't want to…"

Tim took a deep breath in, never once letting her go.

"What do you want, Amy?"

She shifted in his arms slightly, tightening her own arms around him.

"Just this…" she admitted. "Just this, right now."

"I can do that," he assured her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "I am more than happy to do that."

She turned her head, resting her ear against his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

"Dad?" Amy asked quietly, her voice barely steady. He looked down at her.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she told him. "I always did."

She felt Tim grip her shoulders again, pushing her back so that he could look into her face.

"Never," he told her, "ever, have I stopped loving you, Amy."