Page 6 of North

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He threw it back on the bed and headed to the shower.

Twenty minutes later, he came down the stairs to voices. Fighting.

“If you’ve killed another microwave trying to heat up your gross week-old nachos...” West, and yep, a burning smell lifted from the kitchen.

“That was one time!” Skeet said. “And technically, the fire department said⁠—”

“It was a grease fire. We know.”

North caught the pillow that West had lobbed at Skeet’s head. “We were all there. Including Ford and Scarlett, so put a sock in it, Skeeter.” He headed to the kitchen to grab his steak. Seasoned it, and then went out to the deck to start the grill.

The wind carried the scent of summer off the lake.

He’d met Selah on a day like today, at a backyard barbecue her brother, Jake, had hosted.

He sighed and returned inside.

The game was muted, commentators talking during the period break.

“You know what could help?” Dakota said now, getting up to follow him to the kitchen.

“Help with what?” He picked up his steak.

“Getting back on the horse.” Dakota opened the fridge and pulled out a root beer. “You know...forgetting Selah.” He popped open the can. “The wedding. I’m sure Scarlett will have some bridesmaids there. Maybe one of them is single. And we will be in the Keys...” He winked.

North managed somehow not to throw his steak at him. “Don’t talk to me.” He walked outside and put the steak on the grill. Closed the lid and watched the smoke spiral out.

He wasn’t getting back on any horse.

How could she just...leave? Again.

He should shrug it off. The woman wasn’t a troublemaker. She simply got in over her head without realizing it and—aw, it wasn’t his problem.

Not anymore.

He stood just inside the door, hands in his pockets, watching the game resume.

His phone buzzed and Chloe’s name appeared on the screen.

What was...“Chloe?”

At her name, Skeet turned, frowned. West picked up the remote and muted the television.

Selah’s sister never called. Not since...

“North!” The woman faced down warlords, snuck into besieged villages, interviewed drug runners, and yet, her voice cracked. “Tell me she’s contacted you.”

“What?” On instinct, he pulled the phone away and put it on speaker.

“Selah...she...” Chloe’s voice shook. “She was on a train—and I think it crashed. And now she’s not answering her phone.”

He closed his eyes. Think. “Where?”

“She was on the Amtrak. The one that goes to Washington State.”

“The Empire Builder,” West said, and North didn’t ask him how he knew that.