At sixty-two, Rick is not looking for reinvention. He is looking, mostly, for a way to keep going.
When his aging father offers him money he would rather give now than leave behind later, Rick takes to the road in an old truck and heads west out of East Texas. What begins as a drive through desert light, roadside diners, caverns, motels, and long empty stretches of highway becomes something deeper: a reckoning with distance, with the father he has never quite understood, with the daughter he has lost his way with, and with the life he has been living without fully inhabiting.
Along the way, memories rise and recede. New connections flicker into being. The landscape itself seems to ask more of him than movement. It asks attention. It asks honesty.
Tender, searching, and quietly devastating, Three Horizons is a novel about fathers and daughters, aging and solitude, and the possibility that even late in life, a person may still turn toward home.
For readers who love character-driven fiction rich with atmosphere, emotional depth, and the hard-won grace of ordinary lives.