“Not that money would matter if the situation were dire,” Red added. “I just don’t think it is yet. And I ain’t abandoning my home on a hunch.”
“Normally, I’d be the first to admit that Hannah jumps to conclusions,” Margaret said softly, “but I don’t think she is, given these circumstances.” She lifted a hand toward the sky. “You can’t look at that and tell me there’s nothing to be worried about.”
Travis tilted his head back and followed the direction of Margaret’s hand. The once tranquil mountain range in the distance had darkened into a misshapen mass behind the thick haze that had lowered over the ranch, and above the mountains, the sun, yellow and bright one hour ago, had become a dim, barely visible, bloodred blur amid the smoke.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Red insisted. “I’ve lived on this mountain all my life, and these fires kick up year round. We’re sitting up top. There’s a lot of wind up here and it blows in more smoke, that’s all. It’s nothing new.”
Hannah sighed. “These fires might not be anything new, but they’ve continued to get worse every year. I’m telling you, Red, this one just doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Travis”—Margaret touched his arm—“what do you think?”
What did he think? Travis hesitated, studying Margaret’s worried expression, Red’s frown, and the shadow of unease in Hannah’s eyes. He knew next to nothing about wildfires, but judging from the way their surroundings had changed over the past hour, he’d have to say it warranted concern.
“I can’t speak with any authority,” he said, “but I think Hannah is right.”
Hannah looked at him, her anxious expression easing slightly, and smiled. “Thank you. See, Red? We need to leave.”
Groaning, Red dragged a hand over his face and turned away, his narrowed eyes scanning the grounds. “All right, we’ll meet in the middle. You and Travis go to your cabins and pack overnight bags. You’ll stay at the lodge with me and Margaret tonight, and we’ll keep the TV and radio on to catch any warnings. If the rain doesn’t make it here by dawn, we’ll load up the horses, drive downtown, and find a motel for a night or two until this thing dies down.” Lips twisting, he glanced at Hannah. “That suit you?”
“Yes!” Hannah sprang forward and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Red.”
He scoffed. “D
on’t thank me yet. Margaret’s still renovating the rooms so you’ll have to share a bed with her, and Travis will be sleeping on the living room floor.” He smirked at Travis. “See what you let her rope you into? Giving up a perfectly good bed for no reason.”
Travis smiled. “I can handle it.”
“Yeah, you say that now. Tell me that in the morning when you shove off the hard floor with a crick in your neck and two women gabbing in your ear.” Red spun on his heel and headed for the lodge. “Can’t do much outside with all this smoke, so we might as well go inside. Get a move on, pack your bags, and join us at the lodge.”
“It won’t be as bad as he says.” Margaret followed Red, grinning as she passed Travis. “I’ll blow up an air mattress and find clean sheets for you.”
“Later,” Red said. “First, we’re packing bags.”
“No, we’re not, and don’t boss me around, Red Bartlett. Just because you’re in a bad mood doesn’t mean you . . .”
Travis chuckled as Margaret walked quickly to Red’s side, her long skirt whipping in the wind as she stepped carefully in her high heels and continued to admonish him. Red grunted and walked faster.
“They’re a pair, aren’t they?” Hannah asked.
Her attention was on his mouth, and the pretty pink blooming in her cheeks made Travis catch his breath. “Yeah,” he said. “They are.”
Wind gusted against her back and yanked an auburn curl from her ponytail, sweeping it across her soft lips. His eyes traced the curves of her mouth and he leaned forward slightly, wanting to slide his arms around her and brush her lips with his. Wanting to hold her close and ask if she felt the same longing he did—this need to connect, cherish, and belong.
Instead, he reached out, tucked his fingertip beneath the strand of her hair and tugged it off her lips. He smoothed it across her cheek, her skin soft beneath his palm.
She stared up at him, her blue eyes warming, and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear with a shaky hand. “W-we’d better pack.”
She studied his mouth once more, then turned away abruptly.
Travis shoved his hands in his pockets and joined her on the dirt path. They walked against the swift kick of the wind, parting ways when Hannah reached her cabin. Travis waited until she made it safely inside, then crossed the bridge and continued along the stone walkway up the steep incline until he reached his cabin.
Once inside, he grabbed his worn bag and tossed in a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt. Realizing his bag of new clothes was still in Red’s truck, he decided to grab it on the way to the lodge.
He scooped up his toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom, returned to the small desk in front of the window, and grabbed the lantern Hannah had given him the night before. After dropping the items into his bag, he picked up the unmarked envelopes bound with string, placed them in the bag, then reached for the loose letters scattered on the desk.
Travis stopped, his hand stilling above the name scrawled in ink on the bottom of one letter: Neil Alden.
Two simple words against a white backdrop, unspoken, but they resounded through his mind like a sinister hiss inside the silent cabin.