Parking, he grabbed the tube from the passenger seat and jogged up the steps to the porch.

He couldn’t wait to show her the new location—upwind from the lyantha meadow, so she’d have that scent in the house every June. She’ll love that.

And she’ll go home knowing what our life will look like together.

Nerves on fire, he threw open the door. “Rosie?” He imagined her expression, the excitement, when he showed her the lab. She could design it however she wanted. State of the art everything.

Heading into the kitchen, he breathed in the scent that would forever be associated with his woman. “Rosie?”

It looked like she was right in the middle of a project…making candles? She was always working on something. She tinkered, that was her style. She’d take a break, then go back to work. Eat some dinner, go back to work. Her mind worked like his, her subconscious always working through problems. The moment it delivered solutions, she’d cruise back to her lab.

He tapped the tube on the counter. “Rosie?” Damn, but he couldn’t wait another second to show her the plans.

He tried to think what she had going on today. She was waiting for another shipment of jars and labels. She’d already sent the formula to the production facility in Idaho, so everything was good there. He couldn’t recall her mentioning anything specific for this morning.

Maybe she’d gone into town with Sky? Heading for her bedroom, he pushed the door open. “Rosie?”

Her nightstand, once crammed with books, hand lotion, lip balm, and water glasses, was empty.

What the actual fuck?

He strode into the room, throwing open the door to her walk-in closet. Empty. Except for a black cashmere sweater crumpled on the floor.

Blood roared in his ears, and he pulled out his phone. Immediately, he found a bunch of texts from her.

My father’s had a heart attack. I’m on my way home.

Oh, Jesus. Adrenaline flooded him, making him sick to his stomach. Her dad meant the world to her. But, before he called her, he skimmed the rest of the messages.

I’m so scared. It’s going to take me ten and a half hours to get home. What if I don’t make it in time? What if he dies before I get there? I’ll never forgive myself.

A smothering sense of helplessness yanked him under. He hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him most.

He should be with her. She shouldn’t be alone right now. Fuck.

He knew the guilt she had to be feeling. Her dad had asked her to come home, and she’d put it off another week. Brodie called her. Thank Christ, she answered right away.

“Brodie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I can’t lose my father. I…”