Guilt Ridden
The Walker Five, Book 4
By Marie Johnston
Guilt Ridden
Copyright 2017 by LE Publishing
Developmental and Copyediting by Tera Cuskaden
Proofing by HME Editing
Cover by P and N Graphics
The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.
The one that got away…
Travis Walker thought he’d gotten over his high school crush when she moved away to get married. But Kami’s widowed and back in town with her daughter—and the timing couldn’t be worse. He’s thrown himself into work since his fiancée’s sudden death. And he happens to be interested in expanding his own operation by purchasing the land Kami’s mom is selling.
Kami Preston has failed at everything else in life, but she’s desperate to keep her mom’s land in the family. The dream of opening her own gymnastics studio will have to collect dust like all the old junk her dad had shoved in the barn. Suddenly she’s in over her head, trying to figure out how to run a farm and ranch.
Travis should be rooting for her to fail, but he’s there to help every step of the way, and Kami needs every ounce of help he offers. The more they’re together, the easier it is to wonder what might have been…and now just might be her chance to find out.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
About the Author
It’s always hard for me to write a catty mother-in-law because mine is a rockstar. To my MIL.
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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.
Chapter Two
Fifteen months later…
Kami Preston nailed the eight ball into the corner pocket and grinned. “What do I get when I win again, Austin?”
Her on-again, off-again—mostly off—ex scowled at the pool table. “You’ve been practicing, Preston.” He racked his pool stick. “But what else are you going to do, am I right?”
She bristled at his dig but hid it with a swig of beer. “You mean between my two jobs?” Three if she counted being a parent, but she didn’t. She mentally snorted. Austin probably would, but her ten-year-old angel, Kambria, only turned into a little devil around him.
And that’s why she only saw Austin when Kambria was with her grandparents. If she wanted to be a little shit with them, Kami wouldn’t punish her. Why her daughter got so defensive with Austin but didn’t bat an eye when Kami’s former in-laws threw shade on her, she’d never know. Might as well take the support where she could get it.
Sliding onto her stool, she eyed Austin. Why did her daughter dislike him so much? He had a job, dressed respectably, didn’t swear around her. Kami and Austin had dated in high school, but depending on who you asked, many would say she “dated” everyone in high school.
They’d be right. But that was high school, and she was determined not to be that girl again. So she stuck with Austin when she needed adult company.
Austin crowded behind her, his hands on her biceps as he bent to nibble her neck.
“Dude, we’re in public.” She scanned the rest of the bar. No one paid them any attention. Anyone who was a halfway regular here was used to seeing the two of them playing pool and hanging out.
At least she’d get to have a beer and a break from serving others all day, instead of just having sex and going home alone. Austin didn’t seem to mind as long as he knew where they’d end up.
At least nasty rumors wouldn’t worm their way to her daughter about her if she stuck to hooking up with just one guy. All the other good ones in Moore were taken or thought she was as disposable as she’d been in high school.
No. That wasn’t true. One of the good ones was dead.
She cleared her suddenly thick throat. God, memories of Ben haunted her at the most inopportune times.
To change the subject, she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. “Take a look at this.”
Austin gave up his amorous efforts and moved a stool next to her. He snapped the sheet out of her fingers and peered at it. His handsome features morphed with doubt and he raised a dark brow at her.
“What?” she asked. Don’t you dare be an asshole about this!
“Why are you walking around with an ad for an old grocery store in your pocket?”
The jury was still out on how he was going to react. “Look at the price.”
“And?” The attitude he threw into the word raised her defenses.
“I want to buy it and convert it into a gymnastics academy.” Forcing herself to sound firm and confident, she clenched her hands together to aid her in the effort. She was going out on a limb telling him, but if anyone knew what it meant to her, he would. “You did know the one in Moore shut down years ago, right? It’d be good for the community to have one again.”
He raised both brows, his expression screaming, You’re shitting me?
“I think I can swing it. I’ve kept current by coaching part-time in Normandy.” Her confidence wavered. No, Kami! She’d thought this through, and yes, she was lacking credentials, but where there was a will, there was a way. Where there was desperation not to work herself into the ground doing a job that could just as well pay in beans, there was a way. And she’d find it.
Austin flicked the paper back to her and reclined with his beer. “You need to do more than think, Kami. Fuck, just because you coached in high school doesn’t make you qualified to manage a freaking business. Most of those things are alive because of sponsors and fund-raisers and that’s a whole ’nother beast.”
She rescued the advertisement and nestled it back in her pocket. Why’d she show him, again? “I know that ‘beast.’ I helped the old director do all of that.”
He scoffed and took a swig of his beer. “Sorry to tell ya, it’s more than wearing a tight leotard and washing cars in the gas station parking lot.”
She ground her teeth before telling him to shove it until he choked on his drink.
If you aren’t going to ride at the top, quit humiliating yourself. Her dad’s words echoed through her head as brutally as when he’d been alive.
“Come on, Preston.” Austin shot her the humoring expression he used to give her daughter before Kambria asked him if he was constipated. “Being a business owner is hard enough, but it’s…you.”
Why’d she think telling him was a good idea? Was nostalgia a strong enough reason? They’d always come back together as teens, he’d been what she knew before she threw all she knew away and got married.
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Keeping her tone even, she asked, “What do you mean by that?”
“You ran off and got married when you got knocked up. Did you ever take a college class? Even step on a campus?” He lowered his voice in an attempt to make her understand his complete lack of faith in her. “Remember our panicked study sessions? We both barely graduated, and you at the end of senior year, all up in your morning sickness. Stick to what you know. Raise your kid. But don’t throw your money away.”
Stick to what you know. So much like what her dad would say. Was that why she gravitated back to Austin since she’d moved home? Uprooting herself after graduation to get married and have the baby that was already on its way hadn’t been an attempt at preventing single motherhood.
It had been because Ben was so different from anyone else. Well, except for—
No, she wouldn’t think about him. Ben had been like her. Normal. Mediocre, but in all the good ways. She’d ran off, confident no one would’ve looked at Ben and said, “What’s he doing with her?”
Austin chuckled and shook his head. “That must’ve been some life insurance. Why don’t you just buy a decent place for you and the kid. At least you’d have that going for you.”
The kid.
Stick to what you know.
At least you’d have that going for you.
It was time to be done being with a guy that made her feel stupid. Inadequate.
She dug in her purse and withdrew a ten-dollar bill. Tossing it on the table, she met his confused gaze. “I think we’re done here. Go ahead and delete my number from your contacts.”
“Kam—”
She held up her hand as she walked away. “I’ll be busy with my kid.”
“Seriously?” he called, but he didn’t come after her. That was because it’d require work on his part, and she’d made it too easy for him.
The spot between her shoulder blades twitched. The other customers in the bar were watching her leave, probably wondering why she wasn’t leaving with Austin. Likely assumed she’d be here with him the next time her kid was on an overnighter.
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