Somewhere inside him, fear was starting to build. Urging him to turn around and go back to his post. Even if she was his daughter, this was no place or time for this meeting. She had every reason to be angry with him, to hate him for what he'd done to her and her mother. That part of him, the fear, had been the part that had urged him to flee in the first place. Although it made Blackhawk hesitate, he squelched it and kept on his path.
For a moment, he was afraid the girl was going to faint. Her voice would have been hard to hear not in a crowded room. Still, he could hear them well enough for the impact to hit him. Was he her father? Did he even have the right to claim that? He'd never done anything for her a father was supposed to.
His head bowed and he nodded. "My name is Randall Blackhawk," he told her, not really wanting to come out and say the words. It wasn't fair to claim something he'd not yet earned. "You should sit down," he cautioned, nodding towards some of the table and booths that had not yet been claimed.