Paradise Peak (New Americana 5)

On the other side of Travis, several guests assembled a twenty-four by twenty-four foot portable dance floor in a light maple wood tone while Carl and three other men erected a portable stage. A small band comprised of guests stood near the grassy area Red had squared-off in the field for the dance, chatting and laughing while they tuned up their instruments in preparation for their performance, which would begin in three hours, at seven-thirty sharp.

All preparations for the spring dance were well in hand, but despite the energetic activity occurring in most areas of the ranch, Travis, like Red, had yet to lay eyes on Margaret or Hannah.

After last night’s episode at dinner, he’d followed Red for a walk around the grounds and lent a sympathetic ear. It was past eleven by the time he’d returned to Hannah’s cabin and, noticing the lack of light under her bedroom door, he’d decided not to disturb her and had gone to bed himself. By the time he’d risen, dressed, and left his room this morning, she’d already departed for the lodge, so he’d joined Red in the field to begin preparing for the dance.

“I didn’t mean to lose my temper and spill my secrets for all and sundry last night,” Red said, grabbing another bundle of tulle and lights out of the box. “Matter of fact, I had tonight planned out over a month ago.” He passed the materials up to Travis. “I was gonna set the stage with a nice, relaxed party, woo Margaret with a romantic dance or two under the stars, then tell her I loved her.” Shoulders sagging, he smacked his knee. “Instead, I spilled my guts across the dinner table in front of my niece and a bunch of swan napkins.”

Despite the sympathy he felt at Red’s embarrassment, Travis stifled a smile. “I wouldn’t go counting yourself out yet.” He fastened the tulle and lights securely, then climbed down the ladder. “You might have lost your temper a bit, but at least you were honest.” A wave of guilt moved through Travis as he said the words. “Margaret knows exactly how you feel, and the ball’s in her court now. You never know—things might turn out better than you think.”

“That’s what I keep trying to tell myself.” Red ran a hand through his gray hair. “Guess sometimes you just gotta let the chips fall where they may.”

“Yeah.” Travis picked up a section of tulle and rubbed his thumb over the soft material, thinking of Hannah and wondering if there’d be any chance of a future for them once she knew the truth. “Guess you do.”

“Getting ideas, are you?”

He looked up to find Red watching him, humor in the other man’s eyes. It took Travis back to the day he’d first arrived in Paradise Peak. Back to the moment he’d first sat beside Red in his truck, with Hannah’s picture beneath his fingertips and breathtaking mountain scenery all around.

Travis had never felt such promise and possibility as he had when he’d set his eyes on Paradise Peak for the first time. And he’d never imagined he’d fall so deeply in love with the rugged land . . . or with Hannah.

But no matter how high or how far he traveled into these beautiful mountains, his past would never alter, and there was a very good chance that he’d lose everything—and everyone—he held dear now because of it. And maybe, despite his hopes for the opposite outcome, that’s how it should be.

“Yesterday,” Travis said softly, “when Carl was here, he said he thought everyone deserved a second chance.” He studied Red’s expression, his eyes tracing the familiar lines of the other man’s face—a man he’d grown to love as a father. “Do you believe that? Do you think everyone deserves a second chance, no matter what they’ve done?”

The teasing light faded from Red’s eyes, and he stared at Travis, his gaze peering so deep, Travis took a step back.

“What have you done, Travis?”

His throat closed, and he couldn’t speak. Instead, Travis dragged a hand over his face and turned away. He looked down and watched the white tulle billow in the breeze, the long ends trailing across the grass. Then he swallowed hard and faced Red again.

“I tell you what,” Travis said, motioning toward the box of tulle and lights. “I can handle this on my own. Why don’t you take a break and unwind before the dance gets started?”

“Travis, if you need help with something, I—”

“I got it.” Knowing full well Red wasn’t referring to tulle and lights, Travis forced a smile. The act made his cheeks ache. “Let me take it from here, okay?”

Red studied Travis’s face, then nodded slowly and backed away. “All right. I’ll use the extra time to pick up a suit from Gloria. Maybe that’ll score me bonus points with Margaret. I’ll meet you back here in three hours to flip on the lights.” He turned around and walked to the dirt path nearby but stopped a few feet away and glanced over his shoulder. “For the record, I’m not opposed to you getting ideas about Hannah.” He gestured toward the tulle and smiled. “So long as it includes making an honest man and woman out of both of you.”

“I promise you, an honest man is all I plan to be from here on out,” Travis said softly.

Red held his gaze a moment more, then left.

Over the next hour, Travis hung tulle and string lights, then tied loose sections of both together with silver ribbons to form a series of festive curtains around the dance floor. Afterward, he watched guests cross the field to and from the lodge, carrying decorations, supplies, and the like. After casting another glance at the lodge, he followed the long dirt trail around to Gloria and Vernon’s cabin, climbed the steps, and knocked on the screen door.

“Just a minute, please,” Gloria called out.

Travis ran a hand through his sweaty hair and grimaced, wishing he’d swung by Hannah’s cabin and showered before visiting Gloria. He’d turned and made it halfway down the front steps when the screen door banged open behind him.

“Hold up there.” Gloria stood in the doorway, holding a cookie cutter in the shape of a star in one hand, and wearing an apron around her waist. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

Travis stopped on the bottom step, wiped his damp palm on his jean-covered thigh, and smiled nervously. “I wanted to conduct a little business, but I just finished working and realized I’m not exactly presentable.”

Gloria made a dismissive gesture with the cookie cutter. “Oh, hogwash. We don’t stand on formalities here.” She propped the screen door open wider with her elbow. “Come on in and tell me what I can

do for you.”

Travis thanked her and went inside. The sweet aroma of sugar cookies made his mouth water and he issued a sound of pleasure. “You got it smelling delicious in here.”

“Thank you, dear. That’d be warm sugar cookies fresh out of the oven—my mama’s special recipe. Margaret asked me to cook up a couple batches to take down to the dance this evening.” She walked into the kitchen and waved for him to follow. “Come grab you one. I was just about to throw another batch in the oven and decorate the first with silver icing and edible sparkle.”