Paradise Peak (New Americana 5)

Zeke pushed Travis’s hand away, stretched up, and wrapped his arms loosely around Travis’s neck, then lifted his leg in an attempt to climb into his arms.

“Well . . .” Travis glanced at Hannah, the nervous expression on his face making her smile, then looked back down at Zeke. “All right.”

Travis bent low, allowing Zeke to wrap his arms tighter around his neck and shoulders, then slowly scooped the boy up and propped him on his left hip. Zeke, clearly comfortable—and tired, laid his head on Travis’s shoulder and fiddled with his collar.

They were a sight: Travis, tall and muscular, cradling Zeke, a small, vulnerable boy, protectively against his massive chest.

“You’re a natural,” Hannah said as she stood.

Travis met her eyes and smiled. He stepped closer, dipped his head, and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be right outside.”

She watched them leave. Travis stepped carefully down the front steps and walked slowly across the front lawn, keeping a secure hold on Zeke. Blondie sighted them, popped her head out of a clump of dead bushes, and bounded across the dormant grass toward them, a stick clamped tightly between her teeth. She lost her footing halfway there, did a somersault, then regained her balance and ran over to plop down on Travis’s boots.

Hannah heard Zeke cackle from her stance by the window and smiled, wondering if Travis would be as good with his own children as he was with Zeke. Her belly warmed at the possibilities.

“A natural,” she whispered.

She turned away from the window, went to the kitchen, and removed the peanut butter p

ie from the fridge. After cutting a hefty slice and arranging it on a plate with two forks, she grabbed a can of soda—Liz’s favorite brand—and walked to the open doorway of the bedroom. Liz was there, lying on the bed, facing the opposite wall.

Hannah set the pie and soda down on the nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Liz?”

Her eyes stayed closed.

Hannah reached out, slipped her finger under a strand of brown hair that had fallen over Liz’s cheek, and tucked it behind her ear. “I brought you something to eat.”

She didn’t respond.

A puff of wind whistled through the open window in the living room and gusted across the bedroom, carrying the faint sound of Zeke’s laughter into the room.

Hannah straightened and stiffened her spine. “This isn’t optional. You’re going to open your eyes, you’re going to sit up, and you’re going to eat something.”

Liz remained still.

“I’m not kidding, Liz.” Hannah’s throat closed, a tight knot forming, but she forced herself to speak. “You can cry all you want. You can even hit me if you want, but you’re going to at least sit up and eat while you do it. I won’t let you give up.”

She grabbed Liz’s shoulders and shook her gently. When her friend refused to respond, Hannah hooked her hands under Liz’s armpits and hauled her resisting form upright.

“L-let go of me.”

The croaked sound that emerged from Liz’s lips was weak, but she’d spoken.

“That’s a little progress,” Hannah said, dragging her forearm over her wet eyes. “Now”—she popped the top on the can of soda and held it to Liz’s lips—“I want you to drink something.”

Liz’s eyes began to close, and she turned her face away.

“Nope.” Hannah moved the can, pressing it back against Liz’s lips. “Not having it. I’m not leaving until you get something in you, and I promise you, I can keep at it all night.”

Liz shoved her arm away and soda sloshed out of the can and onto the sheets. “Get away from me.”

“No.”

Eyes narrowing, Liz stared at her. “I said get away from me.”

“N—”

Liz knocked the can out of Hannah’s hand. It smacked into the wall and hit the floor, soda fizzing across the floor.