Paradise Peak (New Americana 5)

I came to Paradise Peak for you, Margaret. To see you. To beg your forgiveness. . . .

The words blurred and the paper shook in her hold.

Instead of hiding these words with the others, I should tell you all of this. I should tell you that my life—however miniscule its worth—is yours in whatever way you choose to use it. But if you knew who I really am . . . If you knew I was Neil Travis—

“Alden,” Hannah whispered, her throat raw. “You’re Neil Alden?”

She knew the answer, but she said the name out loud again, the words widening the chasm forming between them, changing the angles of Travis’s face, morphing his once familiar features into the form of a stranger’s.

Hannah closed her eyes, the warm glow inside her fading to cold emptiness, every lingering trace of Travis’s touch numbing her sk—

No. Neil Alden. The addict who had driven drunk, who had killed Margaret’s daughter. Neil Alden’s hands had been on her, his hard body inside her.

“You lied to me.” Choking back a sob, she shook her head, opened her eyes, and balled the paper in her fists. “You lied to all of us. All this time. And last night—”

“No.” He shoved away from the deck railing and moved, hand outstretched, toward her. “Nothing about last night was a lie. I’m so sorry, Hannah. I never meant t—”

“Don’t.” She stepped back, ripped the paper into pieces, and flung them. They scattered in different directions, some plummeting like stones to the deck and others catching on his shirt, then floating to his feet. “You’re a liar.”

“I never lied about loving you. I swear.” Face turning pale, he looked down at the scraps of paper littering the deck, then raised his head, a desperate plea in his eyes. “When I came here, I had no intention of lying, but when I saw—”

“When you saw Red, you knew you could take advantage.” Hannah held his gaze, struggling to keep her voice even. “You saw his kindness as weakness, and when you met me, you saw a damaged woman.” She stabbed a finger at the papers strewn across the deck. “How did you say I see the world? As cruel? As a wounded victim? Someone who was weak and—”

“That’s not true. I could tell you had been hurt before because—”

“You hurt people.” She nodded. “That’s why. You could see I had been hurt before because you aim to hurt and you know what a victim looks like. You’re no better than Bryan.” Eyes burning, she dragged the back of her arm over her face and turned away, her gaze settling on the lodge in the distance. “And Margaret.” She scrubbed her wet cheek, her chest tightening painfully. “Do you know she said good-bye to her family yesterday? Just yesterday. She put Phillip’s and Niki’s pictures away, let go of their memory for the first time in twenty years, because she wanted to move on and start a new life with her new family.” She faced him again, forced herself to meet his eyes. “A family that included Travis Miller.”

He flinched, but held her gaze, his eyes wounded and wet. Moisture gathered on his lashes, and she watched a lone drop seep onto his lean cheek and roll in a haphazard trail to settle in the corner of his mouth.

Heart aching, Hannah lifted a hand toward him, wanting to wipe away the tear and his words, wanting to comfort the man she’d believed she knew. The strong, gentle, honest man who’d protected and supported her. Who she had believed loved her, and whom—despite what he’d admitted, despite the deceit and soul-searing pain he’d caused—she still loved.

Oh, God. She still loved him. Loved the man she’d believed him to have been.

“Travis Miller doesn’t exist.” She reached for the rail of the deck, wrapped her hand around the hard wood, and followed it backward slowly, her feet blindly feeling their way down the steps. “Travis Miller is just a name. A mask for a liar. A murderer. And a coward.”

Pain moved across his face, twisting his features. Hannah forced herself to continue backing away. Forced her hand to tighten around the rail. Forced her feet to continue moving until they touched the ground.

“You’re going to tell Margaret the truth,” she whispered. “And you’re going to tell her now.”

CHAPTER 14

Travis tightened his hold on the bundle of letters in his hand and forced himself to take slow, measured steps, keeping a comfortable distance between himself and Hannah as he followed her along the dirt path leading to the lodge.

She glanced over her shoulder, her auburn curls, mussed by their lovemaking last night, bouncing against her slim back. Her red-rimmed eyes remained focused on his boots, never lifting to look into his; then she faced forward again, her steps quickening.

He opened his mouth to call to her, to apologize and beg for understanding, but his voice refused to emerge.

After confessing to Hannah, he’d returned to his room inside her cabin, retrieved the stack of letters he’d written Margaret, and tucked the last one he’d written two months ago beneath the string tying them together.

Hannah had been standing outside on the dirt path, waiting for him when he returned, and without a word, she’d spun on her heel and led the way silently up the path toward the lodge.

Her steps faltered twice as they walked past the dance floor, which still stood in the field, the white tulle and lights surrounding the em

pty space swaying gently in the morning breeze. A quiet sob escaped her, and Travis shoved his free hand into his pocket and deliberately slowed his steps to keep from reaching for her.

However good his intentions, he’d betrayed Hannah’s trust. He’d deceived her. And he’d made love to her before telling her the truth.

She wouldn’t welcome his touch, and he couldn’t blame her.