She was right; it would have been quicker to walk since it took them ten minutes to get to the trailer that was set off from the road. He had expected it to be the same as Peyton’s, but it wasn’t. It was much larger and newer, and definitely in better shape; that’s for damn sure.

“You use this place as your studio?”

“I know. Killyama wants me to live here and use mine as the studio,” she said as she got off the bike.

He followed her to the door of the trailer. It didn’t have a front porch; stone steps led to the doorway. Peyton went up the steps first, unlocking the door, then Train followed her inside.

The outside wasn’t the only difference between the two trailers. The trailer he entered was much more open and modern than Peyton’s. Peyton’s had a small booth for guest to eat at, whereas this one had a table with six chairs, the living room had a sectional couch that could easily seat many, and it even had a fireplace which Peyton easily flipped a switch to start. Train tried to hide his expression from her knowing eyes.

“I’m more comfortable in my home. I feel guilty this one’s going to waste.”

“It’s not wasteful if you’re using it.”

“I made the master bedroom my studio. It’s this way.”

They walked down a hallway that was big enough for two people to walk side-by-side, leading to a door at the end.

Peyton reached for the doorknob but hesitated before opening it. “Killyama is the only one who has been inside. I’m trusting you, Train. I don’t know why … but I do.”

“Anything I see or hear will be just between us. I give you my word as a man of honor.”

A wry smile curled her lips upward. “Honor? That means different things to different people. I hope it means something to you.”

He nodded. “It does.”

She gave him a searching look. She must have been satisfied with what she saw reflected in his gaze because she opened the door, stepped inside, and allowed him to enter.

Train leaned against the doorway, taking it in. The pieces he had asked to buy were there. The pictures hadn’t given justice to the magnitude of seeing them in person.

“Rae never liked taking pictures, even as a baby. She would cry or make faces every time I tried. It was easier to get her to pose for me. Sometimes, it took several sittings to get the look I wanted to capture.”

Rows after rows of sculptures replicating Killyama showed her growth from a child to the independent woman she was today.

“They’re beautiful.” Even the word spoken out loud didn’t describe the beauty of the sculptures she had created. It was as if each piece had caught that part of Killyama that she didn’t want anyone else to see. All the bravery she had shown when she had saved Lily and Winter’s life was there, her sense of humor that always brought a smile to his lips, her stubbornness that drove everyone crazy. Train stared at them all, not touching as he took his time walking past the shelves until he came to the end.

“I just finished that last week.”

“May I touch it?” he asked gruffly.

“Yes, just be careful.”

He nodded as he picked it up gently.

“It took me several days to figure out which material I wanted to sculpt it out of. I usually do bronze, but I had a piece of emerald green soapstone that called to me.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I know it sounds silly.”

Train couldn’t get any words out. Cradling it carefully, he stared down in awe at the expression she had managed to capture.

“You can have it if you want it.”

Train raised his head at her offer. “Yes, I want it. I’ll pay for it. How much do you want?” The emotions he felt weren’t easy for a man like him, but the sculpture he was holding made it impossible to keep them in check.

“I couldn’t take your money.” She gently took it out of his hands before going to the window and letting the morning sun hit it. “Rae was talking about you when she posed for this. I know she loves you. She may not have told you, but she does.”

Train felt the fragile thread of hope strengthen.

“Do you know why she would have stolen my friend’s key?”

She shook her head. “No.” Then she briskly set the sculpture on a worktable that had some drawings. “But yesterday morning, Hammer and Jonas came by and told me they were meeting Killyama. They didn’t want to come inside, so they stayed out on the front porch until she arrived.” She rubbed her temples with her slender fingers as she recounted what happened. “I was in the kitchen, and I couldn’t hear much …”

“What did you hear?” Train moved nearer to the table.

“She was begging Jonas not to tell her something about The Last Riders.”

Train felt his stomach clench in dread. The Last Riders kept a lot of secrets. One in particular that could destroy the whole club was buried a mile away from the clubhouse, on more property they owned. There was no way Hammer or Jonas could know about it, because it was only known by the founding members. None of the other brothers knew about it. Razer, Shade, Knox, Lucky, Cash, Rider, Viper, and Train himself would kill anyone in a heartbeat who tried to expose that secret.

Cash and Shade had found the spot when they had searched for Gavin after he had gone missing. Afraid he could have been lost or hurt, they had searched the entire mountainside, finding the two huge moss covered rocks that the men had to squeeze through to come out on the other side and into a large plain surrounded by rocks on three sides and the mountain at its back. The men had come to the conclusion that it must have been a crater that had been filled with time.

“Did you hear what Jonas said?” he asked.

“No. They went to Hammer’s SUV and stayed there for almost an hour. When she came out, she went to her car and left. Hammer and Jonas came in to eat lunch, but they acted like everything was okay.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Peyton looked like she wanted to say something else, yet she couldn’t make up her mind.

“I know you’ve only met me one time, but I keep my word. You can trust me,” Train assured her.

“I hope so. I won’t be the only one hurt if you break your word to me.” She straightened her shoulders like she was bolstering her courage. Then she walked to one of two closets in the room.

He didn’t move, intuitively knowing she didn’t want him to see what was inside as she slid the closet door open. However, he couldn’t help seeing more shelves of tiny sculptures.

She pulled one from a shelf, bringing it back to the worktable and setting it down next to the one of Killyama.

As Train stared down at the man’s face, it took him a minute of admiring the piece before he actually began to realize the face was familiar to him. He tried to place who it belonged to, but he couldn’t.

“Who is this?”

“Maybe this will help.” Peyton went back to the closet. “Rae doesn’t let me keep anything of his around. She doesn’t want to see it.” She reached up to the top shelf, taking down a scrapbook, before coming back to the table and shoving her drawings to the side.

Opening the book, Train was floored at the image staring back at him.

“Major Timothy Cooper,” Peyton said.

“I know who he is … He was in the SEALs. I never served with him, but anyone who’s a SEAL knows of him. He’s the one who inspired hundreds of men to join the Navy. He’s won medals that are almost impossible to win.”