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sp; If I’ve given you this letter, it’s because I know I have to leave Paradise Peak. I’m no longer welcome and must move on. I understand why, and I expected it.
What Hannah said about words not being enough is true. There is nothing I could ever say that would right the wrong I’ve committed, and nothing I could ever do that will bring Niki back. I don’t deserve forgiveness, and I don’t deserve mercy.
I asked you once before, in another letter, how the value of a man is measured. How he can prove he is worthy of forgiveness. What I’ve come to realize is that I can’t earn forgiveness or mercy, but I’ve been given a gift all the same—the gift of life. The gift of a second chance.
The only way for me to honor Niki’s memory is to no longer misuse the life I’ve been given. So I’m choosing to look forward and work at living a better life. A life of helping others and putting as much good into the world as I can manage. Enough to rival the bad I’ve caused others to endure . . . even if it costs me a life with Hannah.
I’m afraid leaving her will be harder than I can imagine. I’m afraid of a life without her. Hannah is it for me—there is no room in my heart for another woman. But I’ll take comfort in knowing that I’m doing the right thing for her happiness, and for yours and for Red’s. And, most importantly, for Niki’s memory.
Please take care of Hannah, Red, and yourself. Please be happy.
Travis
Hannah raised her head, blinking back tears as dawn’s rosy glow intensified. Bright pink, lavender, and gold kissed the mountain peaks in the distance, enveloped the grassy bank beside the stream, and reflected off the water’s surface as it rippled around stones. The sun lifted its head over the mountain range, spilling golden light through the trees.
“I know what Neil did was unforgivable,” Hannah whispered. “I hate what he did to Niki, and how much he hurt you.” Lips trembling, she pressed them together tightly before continuing. “But I never knew him. I only know Travis as he is now.” She faced Margaret, her hands tightening around the letter. “I love Travis as he is now.”
Margaret nodded, her eyes glistening in the morning light. “I know. So do I.” She pulled in a shaky breath. “But I don’t know how I can love a man who killed my daughter. I shouldn’t be able to, should I? I shouldn’t even want to try.”
Red leaned forward in his chair and covered Margaret’s hands with his. “Whatever choice you make, Niki would want you to be happy.” He looked at Hannah. “Neither of you are alone in this. We’re a family, and I’ll support you both in whatever you decide.” Hesitating, he said, “If we forgive him, it won’t be a one-day thing. We’ll have to make the choice to do so over and over again—even on the days it hurts the worst.”
Red leaned over, kissed Margaret’s cheek, and stood. He squeezed Hannah’s hand as he passed, walked halfway down the front porch steps, then stopped, his head turning slowly as he took in the sun spilling across the sloping grounds of the ranch.
“This place came to life the moment Travis stepped foot on it,” Red said. “And not just this ranch, but us, too.” He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Margaret. “After all these years, I got up the gumption to tell the woman I loved how I felt and found out she loves me just as much.” He looked at Hannah. “And I heard my niece laugh again for the first time in years. Her beautiful, brave smile returned, and I finally got the family I’ve always wanted.” His smile slipped. “Including a man I’ve grown to love as my own son.”
Red continued slowly down the steps and Hannah returned to her chair. She reached out and took Margaret’s hand in hers, squeezing it gently as she watched Red stop and turn back once more.
“Thing is,” Red said softly, “who is forgiveness for, if not sinners?”
CHAPTER 15
Travis recognized Paradise Peak the moment he reached the overlook. He left the gravel path he’d traveled for three miles prior to dawn and walked to the mountain’s edge, the muscles in his legs tightening from his morning hike, but his body refreshed by the exercise.
Ahead of him, lush green mountain ranges sprawled beneath a thin, sleepy mist, and healthy evergreen trees stood tall and proud. The sun’s golden rays reached out over the mountain peaks, warming the air, and glistened over the dewy, purple petals of rhododendrons that covered the sloping ground in front of Travis’s boots.
He tipped his head back, savoring the warmth of the sun’s rays on his cheeks and bare neck, and inhaled deeply. Fresh, fragrant air filled his lungs and lifted his chest.
A sense of peace washed over him, and he glanced to his left where the majestic mountain he’d known briefly as home rose gracefully toward the sky.
“Paradise,” he whispered.
He hadn’t known the land long—his stay in Paradise Peak had been brief—but the strength underlying the mountain, the serene landscape, and cool streams were powerful enough to remake the weakest of men. To make him whole again.
Travis looked down at the boots Red had given him and smiled. That’s how he felt. Strong and whole. He was leaving Paradise Peak with so much more than he’d had when he’d arrived.
Except he no longer had Hannah.
His smile faded.
Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, he took one more look at the impressive landscape before him, then moved on. Each step increased the acute feeling of loss within him, but he returned to the gravel path running parallel to the highway and continued walking.
Travis had made it another half a mile when the familiar rumble of a truck’s motor overcame the cheerful chorus of birds in the trees. He stopped as Red’s truck passed him, traveled several feet further down the mountain, then made a U-turn and parked on the side of the road. The driver’s side door opened, and Hannah stepped out.
Heart pounding, he waited, watching as she shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and peered up at him. She walked toward him, climbing halfway up the sloping stretch of the mountain, then stood still. Sunlight streamed over her, casting a golden glow over her auburn hair and a pink blush along her cheeks.
“May I come up?” she called, her voice soft in the still morning air. “I need to tell you something.”