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Finally done, Morgan set down the weights. “Okay, spit it out.” He grabbed the towel and his water bottle, letting himself cool down before diving into whatever Jack was working on.
“I’m looking for a load for you so this trip won’t be a complete waste.”
That quieted Morgan’s next comments. Their company had several over-the-road hauling contracts. But what Jack was best at, and what had made them successful, was his brokering skills. The rest of the crew worked on everyday loads. But Morgan had a mission that had nothing to do with their regular customers, and if Jack could get him one-time loads, it paid well. As long as you weren’t picky about what was riding behind you.
And Morgan wasn’t. Morgan was freestyling as he hunted for his ex, who’d taken off with their daughter before the divorce and custody agreement had been finalized.
Nearly a year had passed since Morgan had seen his daughter, Brooke. She was supposed to start school this fall, and Morgan refused to think about her doing so anywhere but home, refused to even entertain the idea that she might actually not start school at all. Sylvie wasn’t that organized or dedicated to anything.
Despite finishing his workout, Morgan nearly started lifting the weights again. Frustrated energy was the worst to burn off.
“So where you headed next?” Jack asked, without looking up from the computer screen.
When Sylvie had first disappeared, and Morgan had decided to hunt for her and Brooke, Jack had bought him a map of the entire United States that dominated one wall.
They both knew Sylvie well enough to know she wasn’t going to take Brooke out of the States, but there were forty-eight of them and he’d driven through most of them trying to find her.
That US map had eventually been covered up by a new one of just the western states. It had taken only a couple months to narrow down where she’d gone. The network of truckers Morgan and his crew knew had provided a lot of the early information. Following the trail of credit cards had also helped—until Sylvie apparently realized she was leaving a trail. Now it was a map of just Texas. At least she’d stayed in the same state.
“Here.” Morgan swept his hand over the western part of the state, waving his hand over the area west of Austin. “There was a charge on one of her old cards last week.”
“It could have been stolen,” Jack suggested.
“Yeah. Or she could be just passing through.” But he couldn’t ignore even the smallest clue. The small bedroom communities he was heading to were kitschy tourist towns with streets lined with old junkshops, eclectic restaurants and run-down motels. Sylvie territory.
No place for a child. Especially his child.
His frustration at not having found her, and at being stupid enough to get involved with someone like Sylvie in the first place, bubbled to the surface in the form of guilt. His protective streak was too ingrained, but she hadn’t wanted his protection, hadn’t ever planned to stay.
What if he never saw Brooke again? Or worse, what if the next time he saw his daughter, she was an adult who came to find him and wanted to know why he’d never looked for her, never found her? He swallowed the panic and resisted the urge to smash something.
“Get out of your head, Morgan.” Jack’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“And you wonder why I listen to the music?”
“No, I don’t wonder.” Jack did look at Morgan this time. “Let’s get you a load, if we can. Hopefully, we can at least cover the fuel.”
“Hey.” Morgan pulled out a chair, spinning, then straddling it, stacking his thick arms on top of the back. “How much is this straining the business? Is it making it too rough on you?”
Jack didn’t stop typing, his fingers smacking the keys loud and hard. “No. We’re tight, like we always are, but we’re good.”
“Are you sure?” The tension Morgan could see in his brother’s shoulders denied the reassurances.
“Even if we aren’t?” Jack stopped typing and looked up. “She’s important to me, too. She’s my niece, Morgan. This is my mission, too. So get to work. I’ll get you a load.” He went back to typing.
