"Sir?" I said, barely able to speak above a whisper. I'd never seen anything so gruesome.

  His foot swung, lifeless.

  I covered my mouth and continued walking, calling out America's name. She's okay. I know she is. She's waiting for me. The words became a mantra, a prayer, as I crossed the countryside alone, trudging through the mud and grass, until I saw the red and blue flashes of an emergency vehicle.

  With renewed energy, I ran toward the chaos, hoping to God I wouldn't just find America, but that I would also find her unscathed. She would be just as worried about me, so the urge to calm her fears was just as strong as the need to find her safe.

  Three ambulances were parked along the turnpike, and I ran to the closest one, watching paramedics load up a young woman. Seeing that it wasn't America, relief washed over me.

  The paramedic glanced at me and then did a double take, turning to me. "Whoa. Are you hurt?"

  "My shoulder," I said. "I pulled a splinter out of it the size of a Sharpie."

  I looked around while he assessed my wound.

  "Yeah, that's going to need stitches. Probably staples. You definitely need to get it cleaned up."

  I shook my head. "Have you seen a pretty blonde girl, early twenties, about this tall?" I asked, holding my hand up to my eye.

  "I've seen a lot of blonde girls today, pal."

  "She's not just a blonde girl. She's gorgeous, like epically beautiful."

  He shrugged.

  "Her name is America," I said.

  He pressed his lips together in a hard line and then shook his head. "Girlfriend?"

  "We slipped off the turnpike and went into a ditch. We took shelter under an overpass, but I'm not sure where I am."

  "Vintage Charger?" he asked.

  "Yeah?"

  "Must have been that overpass," the paramedic said, nodding to the west. "Because your car is three hundred yards in that direction."

  "Did you see a pretty blonde waiting close?"

  He shook his head.

  "Thanks," I said, heading toward the overpass.

  "No one is over there. Everyone who took shelter at the overpass is either at the hospital or the Red Cross tent."

  I slowly turned around, frustrated.

  "You really need to get that cleaned out and sewn up, sir. And we still have weather coming in. Let me give you a ride to the hospital."

  I looked around and then nodded. "Thanks."

  "What's your name?" He closed the back doors and then knocked one door with the side of his fist twice.

  The ambulance pulled forward and turned a one-eighty before heading toward Emporia with its lights and sirens on.

  "Uh ... that was our ride."

  "No, this is your ride," he said, showing me to a red-and-white SUV. The door read Fire Chief. "Get in."

  When he climbed behind the wheel, he gave me a once-over. "You got carried off, didn't ya? How far do you think?"

  I shrugged. "To the other side of that gravel plant. There was a body ... in the tree."

  He frowned and then nodded. "I'll call it in. You were flung a little over a quarter of a mile, I bet. You're lucky you got away with just a scratch."

  "It's a hell of a scratch," I said, instinctively stretching my shoulder until I felt a twinge.

  "I agree," he said, slowing as we approached the Charger.

  I stared at it as we passed, seeing that it was still submerged. America was gone.

  My throat tightened. "If she's not at the overpass and she's not at the Charger, she went to the hospital."

  "I agree with that, too," the Chief said.

  "Hopefully, for shelter and not because she's hurt."

  The Chief sighed. "You'll find out soon enough. First, you're going to get that wound cleaned."

  "I don't have much daylight left."

  "Well, you're definitely not going to find her at night."

  "That's why I can't waste time."

  "I'm not your dad, but I can tell you now, if infection sets in, you're not going to feel up to looking for her tomorrow. Get yourself taken care of, and then you can look for your girl."

  I sighed and then pounded the door with the side of my fist. It was a lot harder than the Chief had hit on the ambulance door.

  He shot me a side-eye.

  "Sorry," I murmured.

  "'S'all right. If it were my wife, I'd feel the same."

  I peeked over at him. "Yeah?"

  "Twenty-four years. Two grown girls. Are you going to marry this girl?"

  I swallowed. "I had a ring in my bag."

  He gave a half smile. "Where is it?"

  "I handed it to her before I was blown out."

  "Good thinking. She's holding on to it for safekeeping, and she doesn't even know. She'll get two good surprises when she sees you."

  "I hope so, sir."

  Chief made a face. "Hope? Where were you headed?"

  "Her parents' house."

  "She was introducing you to her parents? Sounds like your chances were pretty good."

  "I've met her parents," I said, staring out the window. I was supposed to be going in the other direction with America, and instead, I was heading back to Emporia to find her. "Several times. And I've asked her to marry me--several times."

  "Oh," Chief said. "You were going to ask her again?"

  "I thought I'd try one last time."

  "What if she says no?"

  "I haven't decided. Maybe ask her why. Maybe ask her when. Maybe prepare myself for her leaving me one day."

  "Maybe it's her turn to ask you."

  My face screwed into disgust. "No." I laughed once. "She knows I wouldn't be happy about that. Things were good. Now, it doesn't really make sense that I was so upset. We were working toward it. We'd just moved in together. She was committed to me. She loves me. I made us both miserable over it."

  Chief shook his head. "Shacked up, huh? That explains it. My wife always says to my daughters, 'Why buy the cow if you get the milk for free?' I bet she woulda said yes if you woulda made her wait to share your bed."

  I breathed out a laugh. "Maybe. We practically lived together anyway. Either I was in her dorm room, or she was at my place."

  "Or ... if she agreed to move in with you, it's possible she's just taking things at her own pace. She didn't say good-bye. She just said no."

  "If she says no again, I'm pretty sure it's going to mean good-bye."

  "Sometimes, good-bye is a second chance. Clears your head. Anyway ... missing someone makes you remember why you loved that person in the first place."

  I choked and then tried to clear the emotion from my voice. I couldn't imagine walking away from America.

  I wasn't just in love with her. It was like taking my first breath, then the second, and then every breath after that. America had come into my life, and then she was the reason for it.

  "She's special, you know? She's a daddy's girl, but she'll tell you where to stick it if she doesn't like what you have to say. She'll slap a giant to protect the honor of her best friend. She hates good-byes. She wears this little gold cross around her neck and cusses like a sailor. She's my happily ever after."

  "She sounds like a firecracker. Maybe she said no to make sure you're not going to leave at the slightest sign of rocky shores. I'm surrounded by girls, and I'll tell ya ... sometimes, they take shots at you to see if you'll run."

  "I was fooling myself." My voice broke.

  Chief got quiet. "I wouldn't say--"

  "When I find her, I'm going to ask her. I'll ask her as many times as it takes, but just being with her is enough. I had to literally be ripped away from her to understand that."

  Chief chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first man to need a knock on the noggin."

  "I have to find her."

  "You will."

  "She's okay. Right?"

  Chief looked over at me. I could see he didn't want to make a promise he couldn't keep, so he simply nodded, the wrinkles around his light eyes deepening.

  "You'd better find a garden hose first, or she won't recognize you. You look like you lost a fight with a pottery wheel."

  I laughed once. I tried to resist the urge to rub the dried mud from my face, not wanting to make a bigger mess in Chief's truck than I already had.

  "You'll find her," Chief said. "And you'll marry her."

  I offered an appreciative smile and then nodded once before turning to look out the window, searching the faces of everyone we passed on the way to the hospital.

  America

  Reyes was tending to a grandmother and her teenage grandson who'd crawled out of the wreckage of their double-wide trailer home. Reyes had been patrolling up and down the highways and byways within a two-mile radius of where he'd picked me up, but we hadn't come across Shepley or anyone who had seen him. I was pissed that I didn't even have a picture of him. They were all on my phone, and my phone was drowning somewhere in the river. The battery had been in the single digits when I checked the weather, so it was probably dead.

  Explaining what Shepley looked like was difficult. Short brown hair, hazel eyes, tall, good-looking, athletically built, six foot with no distinguishing marks made my description of him fairly vague even though he was anything but. For the first time, I wished he were a tattooed giant like Travis.

  Travis. I bet he and Abby were so worried.

  I returned to the cruiser and sat in the passenger seat.

  "Any luck?" Reyes said.

  I shook my head.

  "Mrs. Tipton hasn't seen Shepley either."

  "Thanks for asking. Are they okay?"

  "A little banged up, but they'll live. Mrs. Tipton is missing her terrier, Boss Man." His words were hollow, but he wrote everything down on his clipboard.

  "That's awful."

  Reyes nodded, continuing his notes.

  "All this going on, and you're going to help her find her dog?" I asked.

  Reyes looked at me. "Her grandsons visit twice a year. That dog is the only thing between her and lonely. So, yeah, I'm going to help her. I can't do much, but I'll do what I can."

  "That's nice of you."

  "It's my job," he said, continuing his scribbling.

  "Highway patrol helps with missing animals?"

  He glared at me. "Today, I do."

  I raised my chin, refusing to let his size and intimidating expression get to me. "Are you sure there's no way to get a call out?"

  "I can take you back to headquarters."

  I scanned the disaster that had been left of the trailer park. "After dark. We have to keep looking."

  Reyes nodded, turning off his lights and pulling the gear into drive. "Yes, ma'am."

  We pulled back onto the turnpike, and for the second time, Reyes drove toward the overpass to check with the emergency crew on the scene to see if they'd seen Shepley.

  "Thank you again. For everything."

  "How's your arm?" he asked, peeking over at my bandage.

  "Sore."

  "I can imagine."

  "Do you have family here?" I asked.

  "Yes, I do." His chiseled jaw danced under his skin, uncomfortable with the personal question.

  He didn't seem to want to elaborate, so of course, I couldn't stop there.

  "Are they okay?"

  After a second of hesitation, he spoke, "Just missed them. Wife was a little shaken up."

  "Them?"

  "New little girl at home."

  "How new?"

  "Three weeks."

  "I bet you were worried."

  "Terrified," he said, staring forward. "I checked on them. A little roof damage. Hail damage on the new minivan."

  "Oh, no. I'm sorry."

  "It wasn't new. Just new to us. But nothing important."

  "Good," I said. "I'm glad." I looked at the radio clock, feeling my eyebrows pulling in. "It's been two hours." I closed my eyes. "This trip was supposed to be the trip. I've been dropping hints left and right."

  "For what?"

  "For him to ask me ... to propose."

  "Oh." He frowned. "How long have you been together?"

  "Almost three years."

  He puffed. "I asked Alexandra after three months."

  "Did she say yes?"

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "I didn't," I said, picking dried mud off my hands. "He's asked me before."

  "Ouch."

  "Twice."

  Reyes's entire face compressed. "Brutal."

  "His cousin and my best friend are married. They eloped after a horrible accident at the college, and I--"

  "The fire?"

  "Yeah ... you've heard about it?"

  "My brother's alma mater, remember?"

  "Right."

  "So, they got married? And it turned out bad?"

  "No."

  "But it was a deterrent to marry the guy you love?"

  "Well, when you put it that way ..."

  "How would you put it?"

  "His roommate, Travis, got married. So, at first, he sort of proposed as an afterthought, hoping our parents would let us move in together. My parents weren't going for it ... at all. But I didn't want to get married just to manipulate a situation, like Travis and Abby. Travis is also his cousin, and Abby is my best friend." I glanced over at Reyes to see his expression. "I know. It's convoluted."

  "Just a little."

  "Then he asked me three months later, and I felt like he was just asking because Travis and Abby were married. Shep looks up to Travis. I just wasn't ready."

  "Fair enough."

  "Now," I let out a long sigh, "I'm ready, but he won't ask. He's talking about being a football scout."

  "So?"

  "So, he'll be gone for a good chunk of the year." I shook my head, picking at my dirty nails. "I'm afraid we'll grow apart."

  "Scout, huh? Interesting." He shifted in his seat, preparing for what he would say next. "What's in the bag?"

  I shrugged, looking down at the backpack in my lap. "His stuff."

  "What kind of stuff?"

  "I don't know. A toothbrush and a weekend's worth of clothes. We were going to visit my parents."

  "You wanted him to propose at your parents' house?" Once again, his eyebrow arched.

  I shot him a look. "So? This is starting to feel like less of a conversation and more of an interrogation."

  "I'm curious why that bag is so important. It was the only thing besides you two to leave the car. He handed it to you before he was blown from the overpass. That's one important bag."

  "What are you getting at?"

  "I just want to make sure I'm not transporting drugs in my cruiser."

  My mouth fell open and then snapped shut.

  "Have I offended you?" Reyes asked although he was clearly unaffected by my reaction.

  "Shepley doesn't do drugs. He barely drinks. He buys one beer and babysits it all night."

  "What about you?"

  "No!"

  He wasn't convinced. "You don't have to do drugs to sell them. The best dealers don't."

  "We're not drug dealers or smugglers or whatever the current term is."

  Reyes pulled onto the shoulder beside the flooded Charger. Water and debris sloshed into the open windows. "That's going to cost a lot to repair. How is he going to pay for it?"

  "He and his dad share a love for old cars."

  "Restoration project for father-son bonding? All paid for with dad's money?"

  "They didn't need to bond. He's very close with his parents. He was a good kid, and he's an even better man. Yes, they have money, but he has a job. He supports himself."

  Reyes glared down at me. He was just ... massive. Still, I had nothing to hide, and I wouldn't let him intimidate me.

  "He works at a bank," I snapped. "Do you really think I'm hiding drugs in this bag?"

  "You've been holding on to it like it's made of gold."

  "It's his! It's the only thing I have of him besides that drowned car!" Tears burned in my eyes as the realization of what I'd just said formed a lump in my throat.

  Reyes waited.

  I pressed my lips together and then tore at the zipper, yanking at it until it opened. I pulled out the first thing I grabbed, which was one of Shepley's shirts. It was his favorite, a dark gray Eastern State tee. I held it to my chest, instantly breaking down.

  "America ... don't ... don't cry." Reyes looked half disgusted and half uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere else but me. "This is awkward."

  I pulled out another shirt and then a pair of shorts. As I unrolled them, a small box fell back into the backpack.

  "What was that?" Reyes said in an accusatory tone.

  I dug in the bag and fished out the box, holding it up with a huge grin. "It's the ... this is the ring he bought. He brought it." I sucked in a ragged breath, my expression crumbling. "He was going to propose."

  Reyes smiled. "Thank you."

  "For what?" I said, opening the box.

  "Not transporting drugs. I would have hated to arrest you."

  "You're a jerk," I said, wiping my eyes.

  "I know." He rolled down his window to flag down another officer.

  With the help of the National Guard, the turnpike had been cleared, and traffic was running smoothly again, but as the sun began its descent, another set of dark clouds started to form on the horizon.

  "That looks ominous," I said.

  "I think we've already experienced ominous."

  I frowned, feeling impatient. "We have to find Shepley before dark."

  "Working on it." He nodded to an approaching officer. "Landers!"

  "How's it going?" Landers said.

  With him standing next to Reyes's window, even in a cruiser, I felt like we were being pulled over, and any minute, Landers would ask Reyes if he knew how fast he was going.

  "I have a little girl in my car--"

  "Little girl?" I hissed.

  He sighed. "I have a young woman in my car who's looking for her boyfriend. They took shelter under that overpass when the tornado hit."

  Landers leaned down, giving me a once-over. "She's lucky. Not all of them made it."

  "Like who?" I asked, bending just enough to get a better look.

  "I'm not sure. Can you believe one guy was thrown a quarter of a mile and ran all the way back to the turnpike, searching for someone? He was covered in mud. Looked like a melted candy bar."

  "Was he alone? Do you remember his name?" I asked.

  Landers shook his head, still chuckling at his own joke. "Something weird."

  "Shepley?" Reyes asked.

  "Maybe," Landers said.

  "Was he hurt? What was he wearing? Early twenties? Hazel eyes?"

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa, ma'am. It's been a long day," Landers said, standing up.