Thank you for reading!

On nice days, Alice liked to take her book out on the library's shaded porch. Since the librarians all knew her, they didn't mind.

Today she was reading an old book called The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Huck wasn't an orphan, either, but his Pap was a very bad man. Alice hoped wherever he was, her father was a better man than that. She'd given up asking Auntie about her parents a long time ago, so she spun fantasies in her head, night after night.

Her fantasies were getting pretty thin, she thought, looking up from the book with a sigh.

As luck would have it, that was just when someone else joined her on the porch. He was a tall man, wearing a big hat and old-fashioned clothes. He sat down in the other rocking chair and lit a cigarette. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you, little lady?"

"You shouldn't," Alice said boldly. "It's very bad for your health."

He looked at the cigarette for a moment, then admitted, "You are not the first to tell me so. Do you think I should quit?"

"Yes."

"In that case, maybe I will." He stubbed the cigarette out and put the end into a metal case he took from his pocket. "What are you reading?"

Normally, Alice was very shy around strangers, but this man didn't frighten her. His voice sounded oddly familiar, actually. She held up the book. "Have you read it?"

"Many, many moons ago. The world was a very different place then. What do you think of it?"

"I like Huck, and I don't blame him for not wanting to stay with the widow."

"Oh?"

"No. She wanted him to be a different person than he was."

"Perhaps he becomes a different person over the course of the book."

Alice smoothed her fingers over the cover of the book. "He might, but can you imagine Huck Finn ever becoming the person the widow wants him to be?"

The man looked at her with a sudden interest. His eyes were very blue. "You speak as though you sympathize with him."

"I … guess I do."

"And who is it that you want to be, if I might be so bold as to ask?"

To her horror, Alice felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I … I don't know who I am. I wish I did. I wish my parents would come for me."

"Do you think they will?" The man took a clean hankie from his pocket and handed it to her.

"I hope so, but my aunt will never tell me anything about them."

He sighed at that. "I see." Then he stood up abruptly. "It appears it is time for me to take my leave."

Alice suddenly didn't want him to go. "Wait! Do you have any children?"

"I do."

"How many?"

"Just one. A bright, precocious little darling who any father would be proud of." His blue eyes were resting on Alice's face like she reminded him of his little girl. Then he reached out, lifting Alice's chin with one finger. "I do not believe you will have to wait much longer, little lady. Take heart."

Letting go, he turned and walked down the steps. Alice watched him go, wishing she could put her finger on why his voice sounded so familiar.

There was no chance she was going to be doing any more reading today, so she returned her book the shelves and picked up her backpack. No buses ran at this time of the day, but it was nice out, and the walk wasn't bad if you knew all the shortcuts, which Alice did.

She arrived at home to see Aunt Gus's battered car in the driveway. Alice frowned. Gus should be at work right now. Was she sick?

Hurrying up the steps, she burst through the door to find Gus sitting at the dining room table with another woman. The guest had her back to Alice when she burst in. Alice could see she wore a black leather jacket, and big motorcycle boots—and she had wild, unruly dark brown hair.

"Mama?" Alice said in a small voice. She didn't know how she knew, she just … did. She thought briefly about the man at the library. How had he known?

The woman turned to her. There were tears in her eyes. "Hey, baby girl."

Alice wanted to run across the room and throw herself in her mother's arms, but she was suddenly so angry. Who did she think she was, just showing up here out of the blue, expecting to be able to call Alice 'baby girl'? "Where have you been?" she demanded. "I've been waiting, and waiting, and—" She broke down in tears.

Gus and the woman at the table exchanged looks. They did not seem to be happy with each other at all. "Are you going to tell her?" Alice's mother said softly, her voice sounding dangerous.

The door opened behind Alice, and the man from the library came in. "I found— Oh. I see you were quicker than I am." He knelt in front of Alice. "I am afraid that you still have my handkerchief."

Alice didn't care. Somehow he represented safety. She threw herself into his arms, and he stood up with her, cradling her close.

"What is it about you and women, Holliday?" the woman at the table demanded.

"Like calls to like, Wynonna. Give us a moment, will you?" He turned and carried Alice outside, holding her against his chest while she cried.

At last, Alice ran out of tears. She lifted her head to look into the blue eyes of the man holding her. Blue eyes she recognized, she realized, because they looked just like hers. "Are you my father?"

"I have that privilege, yes." He smoothed her hair. "And you must have many questions."

Alice nodded.

"Shall we go back inside? Your mother has been missing you something fierce."

"How can she miss me? She's never seen me." Alice took his hand and went inside with him.

"Well, that's not exactly accurate, little lady. You see, once upon a time, we did come to see you." Aunt Gus and Alice's mother both turned to look at them as the door closed behind them, but her father kept talking. "You were just a little bit of a thing, with the sweetest little curls—and the biggest pout I have ever seen."

"She was a willful one," Auntie said. "I wonder where she got that from." She exchanged a weary but affectionate look with Alice's mother.

"We talked about it then, and we decided that it was safer for you if we left you in your aunt's care."

"Safer?" Alice echoed. "Are you … criminals?"

Her parents laughed, and Auntie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, baby girl, there is so much we have to tell you. About your home, and your aunts Waverly and Nicole—"

"And your uncle Jeremy."

"And your uncle Jeremy," her mother added with a laugh. "But before we do that, can I please have a hug? I've been dreaming about that since the day you were born."

Alice rushed across the room and threw herself into her mother's arms. After a few moments of the tightest, warmest hug she'd ever imagined, her father came and held them both, and Alice was the happiest little girl who had ever been born.