I laughed once, a hollow sound that barely resembled laughter. “Know him?” I whispered. “I’ve been married to him for twelve years.”
The old rancher looked like I’d struck him. The color drained from his weathered face, and for the first time since I’d met him, he appeared genuinely shaken.
We sat in silence while I told him everything. I told him about our marriage, our children, the years of financial struggles, the promises Travis never kept, and the young woman he had chosen over his own family. I described being thrown out while eight months pregnant. I told him about the endless walk under the scorching sun and how close I had come to collapsing on the side of the road.
Harrison listened without interrupting. The deeper I went into the story, the tighter his jaw became.
When I finished, he stood and walked to the window overlooking the ranch. His shoulders looked heavier somehow. Finally, he spoke.
“I haven’t seen Travis in over twenty years.”
He explained that Travis had left home in his twenties after stealing money from the family business. They had fought constantly. Harrison had tried to teach him responsibility, but Travis wanted quick money and an easy life. One day he emptied part of the ranch accounts and disappeared. His mother died a year later, heartbroken. Harrison never heard from his son again.
That night Harrison insisted we stay. There was no discussion. He had guest rooms prepared, clean clothes delivered, and meals cooked for the children.
For the first time in months, I slept in a real bed. Yet sleep didn’t come easily. Questions kept circling in my mind. Why had Harrison reacted so strongly when he saw Noah? Why had he looked almost terrified? And why couldn’t I shake the feeling that there was something else he wasn’t telling me?
