“Good-bye, Hannah.”
Forcing himself to move, he walked down the staircase leading to the field and placed one heavy foot in front of the other until he reached Hannah’s cabin.
It didn’t take long to pack. There was only enough room in his bag for two of the new outfits Gloria had helped him choose. He packed the sturdiest jeans and well-stitched shirts, hoping they’d wear well over the journey he’d undertake on foot back down the mountain and out of Paradise Peak.
He looked down at the boots Red had given him and briefly considered taking them off, leaving them behind and wearing his worn tennis shoes instead. But he decided to wear them anyway. They were a good—and perhaps the only—reminder he’d have of the man he’d grown to know and love as a father. And somehow, he felt stronger and more whole when he wore them.
The paper and collection of pens he left behind on the small desk he and Hannah had moved from his old cabin. He no longer needed them. Instead, he grabbed his thermos, took one more look around his room, then left the cabin.
He walked to the bank of the stream nearby, knelt, and filled his thermos with fresh water. His hand lingered in the water’s cool current as he recalled the first time he’d plunged his hands in the stream to clean them with Red by his side. When the thermos was full, he withdrew it, secured the cap, then studied his clean hands, watching the clear drops of water trickle along his palms and over his wrists, sparkling beneath the sunlight.
“Good as new,” he whispered, his heart heavy.
Guests began to stir about the property as he walked slowly along the stream’s edge, then returned to the dirt path. Two men chatted as they slowly dismantled the stage and dance floor in the field, then loaded the heavy pieces of the platform in the bed of two trucks. A group of children played nearby, dashing around the men as they worked, shooting water guns and laughing. And to Travis’s left, in the paddock behind the stable, Juno, Ruby, and Oreo strolled along the fence, lifting their noses into the sweet spring breeze, their manes rippling along their strong backs.
Liz, standing on the other side of the paddock, smiled and called out a greeting before walking inside the stable.
Travis managed to smile back, a pang shooting through his heart as he approached the paddock fence. Spotting him, Oreo walked over, dipped her head over the fence, and nudged his chest.
“Hi, beautiful.” Travis stroked her neck gently, murmuring low words of praise. “I’m gonna miss you. Take good care of Zeke, okay?”
The mare lifted her head, her nose nearing Travis’s face as she breathed softly, then turned and strolled away.
“Where will you go?”
Travis looked to his left where Red stood by the back of the stable, studying him. Red’s expression was bleak, and his shoulders drooped as though weighed down.
“I don’t know.” Travis looked up, above the moisture collecting on
his lashes, and peered at the mountain range in the distance. “I’ve grown to love these mountains, so I imagine I’ll look for somewhere similar.” He shook his head, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Nothing will compare to Paradise Peak—not really. But I’m hoping to find something almost as beautiful.” He faced Red again, an ache spreading through him. “Thank you for bringing me here. For teaching me what it is to be a good man.” He shook his head. “I wish I had a better story to tell you this morning—a better past—but I don’t.”
Red nodded, looked as though he were about to speak, then turned and began walking away, his steps heavy.
“Red?” Travis hesitated, the name sticking in his throat. He should leave Red alone, leave all of them and be on his way. But the journey that lay before him was long, and he’d have to travel it alone. No matter how far he traveled, he’d never be able to forget them. “Do you wish you’d never met me? That you never knew me?”
Red stopped.
“Because I’m not the person I used to be. I swear, I’m not.” His voice caught. “I’m a different person now.”
Red spun around, walked along the paddock fence, his steps swift in Travis’s direction.
“I’m not the same boy that—”
“I know you, Travis.” Red wrapped his arms around Travis and hugged him hard, his voice a hoarse whisper in Travis’s ear. “Don’t you know I know you—and have grown to love you—like my own son?” His words broke on a sob. “Like my own flesh and blood.”
Travis closed his eyes and hugged him back, holding on to Red’s comforting words long after the older man had released him and gone, taking long strides across the field, up the steps of the deck, and into the lodge.
Dragging the back of his arm over his wet face, Travis resumed walking. He left the paddock fence and rounded the stable, his eyes seeking out the gravel drive leading to the highway.
“Giant!”
Travis stopped and looked back. Zeke stood in the open entrance of the stable, smiling as he stared at Travis. Blondie, sitting beside him, shot to her feet and ran over, jumping up and licking Travis’s hand.
Travis knelt and rubbed Blondie behind her ear. “Bye, girl.”
Zeke’s big, brown eyes moved over Travis, taking in the worn bag slung over his shoulder, and a confused expression crossed the boy’s face. “You go?”
Travis stroked Blondie once more, stood, and hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. “Yeah, buddy.”