“When you look at me”—Travis propped his hand on the ledge of the open stall window, offering a slice of apple—“do you see a good man?”
The mare eyed his open palm, eased forward, and took the apple. Chewing slowly, she backed away and continued watching him.
“Or do you see a liar?” Travis asked, lowering his hand to his side. “Because that’s what I am. I’ve lied not just to Hannah, Margaret, and Red, but to Hannah’s friends now, too.”
Ben Tennyson, in particular—a cop whose suspicions Travis knew he’d raised earlier this morning at Misty Ridge Stables with his short, guarded answers to the man’s questions.
He hadn’t meant to come across as shifty or untrustworthy, but being approached by a cop—off-duty or not—had placed Travis’s spirit, if not his physical being, right back behind bars, where he’d been unable to do anything but lower his head and endure the scrutiny of officers in uniforms, lawyers in suits, and society as a whole, who’d judged, then condemned him.
Judging from first impressions, Ben was a good man. And the punishment Travis had been sentenced to twenty years ago had been deserved. Only, it didn’t fit the man he’d been received as in Paradise Peak.
From the moment he’d met Red on the mountaintop, Travis had felt welcomed and encouraged by the older man. When Red had embraced him after learning of how he’d saved Hannah from falling off the stable roof, he’d experienced what it felt like to be approved of for the first time in his life. And when Hannah had smiled up at him last night, had thanked him for helping her, he had known—for the briefest of moments—what happiness felt like.
He wanted all of those things, and he wanted them in Paradise Peak. A place where kindhearted people like Gloria and Vernon greeted an undeserving stranger like him with open arms. A community where a happy kid like Zeke looked up to him—an ex-con with no right to anything good.
Travis flexed his left hand and smiled, recalling Zeke’s tight grip, how the boy’s small hand had swung his back and forth as they’d walked to the paddock, and the joy in Zeke’s voice when he called him “Giant.”
In that moment, he’d felt an unfamiliar sense of pride that had made him long to be someone better. Someone like the man whom Hannah had introduced with respect and admiration; Travis Miller, the stranger Paradise Peak had welcomed in.
But he had no right to seek a fresh start in Paradise Peak, or anywhere else, if he didn’t tell the truth.
Travis closed his eyes, a wave of guilt and apprehension moving through him. He had to come clean, and he had to do it now. But would Margaret, Red, and Hannah be able to forgive him? Not only for lying, but for the criminal he’d been?
Turning away from the stall, he looked out of the open entrance of the stable to where Hannah, Red, and Margaret stood outside.
Margaret was talking a mile a minute, her hands making wide sweeping motions as she spoke, and her long, gray hair whipped with each sweep of wind across the grounds.
Two hours ago, after leaving Misty Ridge Stables with the mare safely in tow, he and Hannah had returned to the ranch and released the horse into the paddock behind the stable. Travis had provided the mare with fresh feed and water, then had taken up residence beside the paddock fence and watched her eat, drink, and walk slowly about the enclosure as she eyed the view.
Ruby and Juno, whom Hannah had turned out into the neighboring field across the dirt path, stayed close to the fence and watched the new horse from afar. Their ears had flicked meekly as their eyes followed the mare’s movements around the paddock, and their noses had lifted as they’d caught her scent in the swift wind.
Hannah had advised that it would be best to keep the animals separate for now and introduce them gradually. The new mare, though docile around Travis, spooked easily, and Hannah hadn’t wanted to take a chance on a bad first encounter with the other two horses.
He and Hannah had let the horses stretch their legs, and Margaret and Red had joined them at the paddock for a look at the new mare. While they’d watched the horses roam the enclosures, the dark clouds that had begun gathering earlier that morning had multiplied and glared down at them from overhead, and a thick haze had settled over the ranch, eventually obscuring the stormy sky and bringing with it the heavy scent of smoke.
Increasing winds had ruffled tree branches, scattered leaves, and tossed loose items about outside the stable, but there hadn’t been one drop of rain, and the gray columns of smoke in the distance had billowed out and cloaked the landscape.
At Hannah’s urging, Travis had led the new mare inside the stable while she’d rounded up Ruby and Juno. He’d fed all three of them apple slices while Hannah had rejoined Red and Margaret outside.
Now, Margaret caught his eye over Red’s shoulder, her expression worried. Hannah faced him, too, the same shadows of concern in her eyes, and there, Travis realized, lay the cause of his hesitation.
If he confessed, there was a chance—however, slim—that Margaret might forgive him. But if he confessed, Hannah would no longer look at him with gratitude, appreciation, and the warmth that had begun to grow in her eyes since last night. Instead, when she looked at him, her beautiful blue eyes would be filled with hurt, betrayal, and possibly anger at his deceit. He’d lose her respect, her trust . . . and any deeper emotion he may have been able to earn from her over time.
He wanted to tell Margaret the truth, but would taking ownership of the reckless fool he’d once been cost him a shot at the good man he might be able to become in Paradise Peak . . . and a possible future with Hannah?
“Travis.” Margaret waved a hand. “Would you come out here, please?”
Pulling in a deep breath, Travis left the stables and joined Margaret, Hannah, and Red outside. A strong gust of wind spit grit in his eyes, and he dragged his forearm over his face as the thick, smoky haze settled around him.
“I’m not saying we should leave for weeks,” Hannah said to Red as she rubbed her temples. “All I’m saying is that we should at least consider loading up the horses and driving into town for a day or two. That way, if things do take a turn for the worse, we’ll have a head start on getting off the mountain.”
“I think you’re jumping the gun,” Red said. “Fire breaks are in place—just this morning I heard on the radio that they’re adding more—and rain’s on the way. I’ve been watching the news and listening to the radio off and on all day and there have been no warnings or orders for evacuation. Unless you’ve gotten one on your cell?”
Hannah frowned. “No, but—”
“And you said yourself,” Red continued, “that you’d be the first person Ben called if he saw things taking a turn for the worse.” He shook his head. “We’ve been through worse fires than this. We got no reason and no money to spare on needless panicking.”
When Hannah moved to speak, Red held up a hand.