Paradise Peak (New Americana 5)

A keen sense of loss moved through Travis as he surveyed the damage the once majestic mountains had suffered. He shook his head. “How in the hell did we make it out of that?”

Hannah, standing by his side, entwined her hand with his and squeezed. “You were there, looking out for us.” She smiled up at him, then looked at the sky, a grateful expression appearing on her face. “And we weren’t on those big rocks alone.”

Travis tilted his head back, absorbing the sun’s warmth on his face before a dark cloud rolled in and obscured its glow. Heavy thunderheads and a gray haze settled over the view, the scent of rain hanging on the cool air.

“I wonder if Ruby, Juno, and the new mare made it out.” Hannah’s tone weakened. “Or if there’ll be anything left when we go back.”

A chill crept up Travis’s spine at the thought of the horses running through thick smoke and dodging fire. “They’re strong horses,” he said, consoling himself as much as Hannah. “As for the ranch”—he lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips—“we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Hannah didn’t speak, but she squeezed his hand harder as she studied the mountains in the distance.

Blondie yipped, and Hannah bent and scooped her up, cradling the pup against her chest. Travis placed his hand at the small of Hannah’s back and they walked across the motel parking lot to the office.

The aroma of hot coffee greeted them as they entered the building. Several people stood in the small lobby area, sipping out of small paper cups, chatting, and craning their necks to look earnestly out the window. Others sat on the floor, some with children in their laps or by their sides, and slept upright, leaning against the wall.

Margaret and Red were not among them.

Hannah leaned against Travis with a sound of disappointment. “They’re not here.”

“It’s okay,” Travis said. “We’ll find them.”

“Travis.” Dale Henderson, manager of the motel, whom Travis had met the night before, greeted him from behind the reception desk and waved them over. His blond hair stood up in thick tufts as though he’d raked his hands through it for hours. “How’d the room work out? Did you get any sleep?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Travis eyed the dark circles under the other man’s eyes. “More than you, I’m guessing. Did you work this desk all night?”

Dale nodded. “Didn’t want to leave anyone out in the cold. All our rooms are full, and so is Black Bear Lodge, and we still have a revolving door of people coming in, looking for a place to stay. The city’s setting up a shelter at the high school, so I figured I’d at least offer a roof for as many people as we can until it opens.” He grabbed two paper cups from the counter and held them up. “Can I interest you in some coffee?”

“Please.” Travis glanced around at the dim lobby. “Power’s still out?”

“Yep. From what I hear, the main line to the power substation was destroyed, and it’ll take several days to replace it.” Dale grabbed a carafe of hot coffee from a small table nearby and filled both of the paper cups. “I’ve got one small generator out back and volunteers are bringing in two more later this morning. They help, but I wish we had one of those big diesel ones.” He shrugged. “We’re a small joint though, and they’re a bit too rich for my budget.” He handed Travis one of the cups of coffee, then passed the second to Hannah. “You want creamer, Miss . . . ?”

“Hannah.” Smiling, she took it. “No, thank you. This is perfect.”

Blondie, catching a whiff of the coffee, squirmed in Hannah’s arms and strained toward the cup.

“Here, I’ve got her.” Travis slipped his free hand under Blondie and transferred her from Hannah’s arms into the crook of his elbow. He took the cup of coffee Dale offered and sipped the black brew as the whir of helicopter blades returned. “I noticed a str

eam of emergency vehicles rolling in this morning. Have you received any updates about the fires?”

Dale nodded. “From what I’ve heard, a few are still smoldering, but the rain from last night and the storms they’re expecting today are supposed to help tamp ’em down.” He pointed out the window, where a helicopter traveled toward the mountain range. “National Guard and firefighters are out, conducting searches for survivors and taking stock of what they can access. Most of the roads are closed—supposed to stay that way till they’re sure they got all the fires contained—and volunteers are pouring in to help. Trouble is, with downed cell towers, no landlines, and no power, it’s been hard to coordinate. Everyone’s just chipping in where they can.”

A baby cried, and Travis glanced around the lobby again, noticing a couple huddled together on a small sofa. The man spoke in soothing tones to the baby cradled in his arms, and the woman beside him held a little girl in her lap, combing her fingers through the child’s tangled hair, a stoic expression on her face.

Dale gestured toward the couple, speaking low. “Some families only got out with what was on their backs and don’t know if there’s anything to go home to.” His tone thickened. “Some families didn’t make it out at all.”

Travis surveyed the group of strangers, wanting to do so much but having next to nothing to offer.

Dale sighed. “We’re tough, though, and take care of our own. We’re gonna rise up out of this.” He tipped his chin toward Hannah. “You find your people yet?”

The tears in Hannah’s eyes made Travis’s own burn. He set his coffee cup on the counter and slid an arm around her.

“No,” she said. “Not yet.”

* * *

“Could you please check again?” Hannah raised her voice over the noisy chatter filling the lobby of Black Bear Lodge. “The names are Red Bartlett and Margaret Owens.”

The young woman behind the check-in desk flipped through a stack of papers on a clipboard. “They’re not on our room occupant list and”—she reached toward the keyboard in front of her, then stopped, her hands spreading helplessly in midair—“our systems are down, so I can’t check our digital records to confirm check-ins.”