Chapter 2Travis had never intended to be anyone’s “substitute family,” if that’s what he was, and yet he couldn’t deny that when Ginger Michaelson and her children called, he pretty much dropped everything to help.
Probably had a lot to do with guilt. Not that he could have really helped Henry—he wasn’t sure anyone could—but he couldn’t stop making up for the fact he hadn’t seen any signs before it happened.
Sunday morning, Travis stopped by a donut shop to pick up a dozen on his way to their house.
Henry and Ginger bought their little slice of tract-home-heaven early on in their marriage. They’d gone to see the models when they were being built and had chosen the most modest one, a four bedroom, three bath, single story that had a decidedly Spanish Mission style to it. The tract was ap
