Chapter One
Heavy drops of rain splattered the windshield. Dark blue clouds unleashed their watery load until Travis had to flip his wipers to high just to keep up. The sound of a downpour filled the cab of his Ford F150. He could turn the radio up to help drown it out but was reluctant to take his hands off the wheel. Easing up on the accelerator, he slowed to sixty, far under the interstate speed limit.
Headlights approached from behind. A semi veered into the passing lane and plowed past, spraying a tidal wave of surface water in its wake.
“Asshole.” Travis punched the defogger and twisted the volume to the radio while he was at it. A country song full of metaphors about sex and driving smothered the rainfall’s noise. It sounded way more upbeat than a tense night of driving in the middle of a storm.
Why the hell had he decided to head to Fargo tonight?
Because what he had to do couldn’t wait.
Michelle’s warm brown eyes flashed in his mind. Her eyes were what had attracted him when he’d passed her on campus that first time. Then they’d had a lab together and eventually, he’d gotten her talking to him.
But lately, those intelligent eyes hadn’t been as happy, not as bright and full of life. Tonight, he was going to do something about it. They’d broken up twice already in their four-year relationship, and while they were back together, Travis felt like they were hanging in a limbo. She stayed in Fargo, not yet willing to uproot herself to live with him in Moore, Minnesota.
I can’t move my life just because we’re in a relationship.
She wanted a commitment. He had two of the three things he wanted in life—his home and his farm. But the two he had weren’t compatible with the third—his woman.
Travis pinched the bridge of his nose. Yeah, it was time. Unfortunately, he’d made his decision during the first thunderstorm of the spring season. But once his mind was made up, he wasn’t the type to sit on it.
The rain eased until it was a steady fall and not a torrent. Billboards flashed by. Fifteen more miles.
At the first exit with a sizable truck stop, he pulled off. He couldn’t just go to Michelle’s empty-handed, not that anything would really go with what he had to talk to her about.
He browsed past the rack of droopy flowers and overpriced knick-knacks, choosing instead an iced tea and a bag of Hershey’s kisses, Michelle’s favorite. He reached the counter and stared at the treats in his hands. Spinning on a heel, he stuffed each one back where he’d gotten it. For a night like this, nothing would be adequate.
He was back on the road in minutes. With the rain, he stayed off the interstate and wove through town to the north side. Her condo was by campus, where she worked as an adjunct professor in the food science department.
The roads glistened under the streetlights. He finally allowed himself to relax, just a little. He shrugged to loosen his shoulders and rolled his neck.
It was going to be okay. He and Michelle had their whole life in front of them.
He frowned when he reached her street. More cars than normal blocked the front. A shot of panic zinged down his spine. She didn’t have company, did she?
He drove past her place to turn around and park on the other side of the street. Her living room light glowed in the dark, but he couldn’t tell if anyone else was there.
He sauntered across the road, hands shoved into his jeans pocket to ward off the chill. He didn’t rush, but took the extra time while rain splattered his face to run through what he’d say.
The blue front door loomed in front of him. He clamped his teeth together and dug Michelle’s extra key out of his pocket. They’d had each other’s key for years, but never shared a roof. Letting himself in, he shivered involuntarily.
Scowling at the landing of her split foyer, a sense of dread washed over him. Were those voices?
They had a tinny quality. Must be TV.
He toed off his Ariats and set them aside. Should he call for her? His only worry was that he’d scare the shit out of her, and that wasn’t how he wanted to start the night.
Brushing his damp hair off his forehead, he went upstairs where the sole light was on. The voices grew louder.
Yep, her TV was on, and the grim voice of the narrator described a husband’s mournful last words about his deceased wife. How odd. She never watched true crimes shows, claimed they scared her too much before bed. She usually settled on HGTV in the evening. Nothing like a little Property Brothers to inspire her dreams.
Her favorite recliner faced the TV, her hand draped over the side.
“Hey, Michelle. Did you hear me come in?”
Nothing but the TV answered him. It was evening, not late enough for her to fall asleep in the chair, a habit she didn’t normally have. But that’d explain her choice of television if she hadn’t been awake to change the channel.
“Michelle?” He crossed to her. Damn, had she fallen asleep? What he had to do couldn’t be done with a groggy Michelle. “Hey, Michelle. Wake up, sleepy head.”
She didn’t move. Her head slumped to her chest and her body slanted off kilter. A sense of wrongness descended.
“Michelle!” Dropping to his knees, he grabbed her hand. When his fingers touched her cool skin, his heart plummeted.
He croaked her name again, barely recognizing his own voice. He tugged on her hand, but it was no use.
She was gone.
For a moment, his mind blanked. Then a rush of questions clogged his thinking. Should he try CPR? Should he call her parents? Call the police? What if she wasn’t really dead?
Releasing a long breath, he allowed his gaze to sweep over her. Lifeless. Pale. He placed her limp hand on the armrest, unwilling to let it hang uselessly. With his hand on hers, he stared at the connection, his mind sluggish.
Then he dug out his phone and dialed 9-1-1.
***
Travis sat on the front steps, his hands propped on his knees. His fingers were so cold, they were on the painful side of numb. A few more minutes and the pain would cede to complete numbness. Lingering rain seeped through his pants, and the only light cast was from the lone streetlight on Michelle’s side of the street.
Michelle’s parents were inside the condo. They had nowhere else to stay and suddenly found themselves with a daughter to bury and a funeral to plan. He didn’t know how they were going to do it. He’d stick around until Michelle’s brother arrived from the East Coast.
The door opened behind him, but he didn’t care who it was.
“Come on inside, Travis,” Michelle’s dad, Phil, said. “Sitting out here in the cold won’t bring her back.”
The man’s voice cracked. Travis imagined him trying to hold his tears back. Why bother? No one was going to call them out for the shock and grief they felt over suddenly losing a child. Michelle might’ve been twenty-seven, but she’d always be their baby.
Travis of all people knew how close she’d been with her parents.
Scrubbing his face with frigid fingers, he sighed. Yeah, he’d better head inside. He stood, and when he turned, more figurative weight piled on his shoulders. The man looked like he’d aged a decade or more within four hours.
“Della’s lying down in the guest room.” Phil shut and locked the door after Travis stepped into the warm but no longer inviting foyer. “I don’t know where you’ll…” His throat worked, but he couldn’t say the words.
Right. Would he sleep in the bed he and Michelle had made love in too many times to count? Or would he sleep on the couch, next to the recliner she took her last breath in? He’d have to take that chair back to the farm and burn it. None of them could ever sit in it, but they couldn’t give it away, not with what they’d lost in it.
“I’ll find a spot to rest. Don’t worry about me.” God, the last thing he wanted was for them to waste any concern on him.
Phil nodded and dropped his gaze. “I appreciate you staying here to help us. I was… I’m, um, really sorry. You were always a part of the family.” His eyes welled with tears, and he choked on a sob. “And now you’ll never be.”
The man nearly collapsed. Travis’s throat burned, but he had yet to shed a tear. He pulled Phil in for a hug, afraid the man would drop on the laminate floor without the support.
As Phil shook with sobs, Travis stared at the wall. He hadn’t shed any tears yet, but it was a matter of time. He’d do it when it wouldn’t burden Michelle’s parents. And after witnessing how hard the shock impacted them, Travis made one private resolution.
No one, no one, was ever going to know he’d come here to break off his engagement.