Hannah bit her tongue and looked away. And there stood Travis, now at the bottom of the hill, clean knife in hand, gaping at the lot of them.
“Well”—Hannah gestured toward Margaret—“you might as well meet all three of us. Travis, this is Margaret Owens, a friend of Red’s and co-owner of the ranch. Margaret, meet Red’s newest guest, Travis.”
Instead of moving forward to offer a greeting in that low, polite tone of his, Travis stood motionless, his cheeks turning pale as he faced Margaret.
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“There certainly is,” Margaret admonished, walking to Travis’s side. “You two have just about run him off with your bickering.” She smiled up at Travis. “I assure you, they’re not always like this. Hannah’s a bit grumpy in the morning, but it wears off by noon, and Red usually breaks in the day with one good argument. After that”—she shrugged—“they’re fine.” She held out her hand. “As Hannah said, I’m Margaret, and it’s a pleasure to have you visit us.”
Travis’s stare moved from Margaret’s face to her hand. Shaking himself slightly, he placed the knife on the cleaning table, then wiped his hand on his jeans several times before placing it in Margaret’s grip. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Margaret’s smile widened. “Polite and strong. What a gentleman.” She winked over her shoulder as she shook his hand. “You’ve made quite a find, Red.” She faced Travis again and lowered her voice. “I’ll just put a bug in your ear, shall I? Red told me you’re staying the night, but if the idea crosses your mind to extend your stay, you’re more than welcome. And as you probably saw on your way in, there’s a ton of work to be done on this property. The stable roof needs to be repaired and several cabins need to be rebuilt. The main walkway needs to be restoned and—”
“Ease up, Margaret.” Hannah shook her head.
The man was a total stranger who hadn’t even given his last name yet, and already Red had promised him a bed, put a knife in his hand, and announced to all and sundry where they kept a gun. And Margaret was gearing up to offer him a job. Good grief, was she the only one of them who used a modicum of good common sense and caution?
“He just arrived,” Hannah continued. “He’s here to clean fish and spend one night in a cabin. He hasn’t said anything about looking for work. Not to mention, listing all the problems this place poses is the surest way to run an interested party off rather than attract them.”
Cheeks flushing, Margaret released his hand and stepped back. “I’m sorry, Travis. I didn’t mean to bombard you. And, of course, Red would be the one to do the hiring, if there’s hiring to be done. I’m only a silent partner in this business.”
The tremble in Margaret’s voice and lower lip made Hannah’s shoulders slump. And the disapproving frown Red flashed her lowered them even further.
Hannah looked at her shoes and rubbed her forehead. “I—I need to get back to work. I’ll stay off the roof and chop firewood instead.”
She turned away and strode up the hill, then around to the back of the stable, stopping when she reached a small fenced paddock. Leaning on the paddock’s wooden fence, she lifted her flaming face into the crisp breeze and inhaled.
The faint scent of smoke filled her senses and her gaze honed in on the thin plume rising from a nearby mountaintop. The sight made her blood pound quicker through her veins.
“Keep your eyes off that smoke.” Red approached, his heavy tread crunching across the brittle grass behind her. “It’s making you jumpy.”
Hannah watched as the plume bent and widened on a gust of wind, the smoke spreading into a gray, misshapen stain against the skyline. “That fire’s been burning for three days now.”
“It’s contained.”
“Tomorrow’ll be four.”
“It’s natural and contained like all the others.” Red’s calm voice drew closer. “And that man on the other side of the stable, cleaning fish, is not some bloodthirsty heathen. From what I can tell, he seems to be a decent guy who happens to be down on his luck.”
She tensed. “So you say.”
“You got cause for fear and concern,” Red said quietly. “God knows, you do. But this constant sizing up and judging of everyone who crosses your path isn’t doing anyone any good—least of all you. You’re safe here. Stop looking for trouble where there is none.”
“And be like you, instead?” Her hands shook. She wrapped them around the top fence rung, wincing as a splinter pierced her palm. “You want me to blindly trust every stranger that wanders up this mountain? Keep trying to save men who can’t—or don’t—want to be saved?”
Red sighed. “No. Not at all. But you know I’d never let anything happen to you, don’t you?”
Yes. That much she knew. Hannah nodded. “I’d do the same for you and Margaret.”
“Speaking of,” Red said, “it’d be a nice change of pace if you could cut Margaret some slack. She loves this place as much as you do, and she’s desperate for a new start. She’s lost more than anyone should in life. And it wouldn’t hurt to at least be civil to Travis. For all we know, the path he’s traveled may have been as painful as yours and Margaret’s.”
Her eyes burned. She looked up at the sky and tried to ignore the hot tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll try.”
After a few moments, Red seemed to accept her apology, and the feel of his presence faded as he walked away. His steps slowed when he reached the stable, and his quiet voice, hesitant and heavy with pain, traveled back to the paddock.
“Hannah, not all men aim to hurt.”
She waited until she was sure he’d rounded the stable and joined the others, then scrubbed the back of her hand over her cheek. “Maybe not.” She refocused on the plume rising from the mountain. Stared as the curl of smoke rose higher. “But some do.”