Page 114 of One Last Promise

Darkness bathed the room, but she turned on a light, hoping it didn’t drain the solar batteries, then headed toward the water container in the kitchen.

Moose had filled it from the river, a filter in the container siphoning out the impurities. She took a glass, filled it, then walked out into the room.

The computer had died and sat dark, and frankly, she was tired of trying to track down clues. Instead, she walked over to the bookcase, to a lineup of novels on one of the shelves. A few Jack Carr novels, a ragtag edition ofThe Thorn Birds, and the Jason Bourne series by Ludlum.

And a Bible.Huh.

She pulled it out. Thick, with a cracked leather binding, it seemed like something a person wouldn’t leave behind. Unless they did all their big thinking here, in God’s country, under the shadow of the Denali and the ribbon of the northern lights.

She brought the Bible over to one of the cigar chairs and sank into it. A frayed red ribbon dangled from between the pages. Setting the book on her lap, she opened it to where the ribbon lay.

The Psalms. She’d heard her mother talk about a psalm. About it being a song of a shepherd. Or maybe they were all songs of a shepherd. But this Bible had markings in it, highlights and notes jotted in the margins, and stars and exclamation points and red underlining the bottom half of the psalm.

She read the words slowly, felt them splash upon her soul. “If you say, ‘The Lord is my refuge,’ and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent.”

She could almost hear Moose’s low voice from last night.“God keeps in perfect peace the man—or woman—whose mind is fixed on him,because we trust him.”

Faith.

She leaned her head back. It always came back to faith.

Moose’s words wrapped around her.“The question is, If you know that God wants to rescue you, what is holding you back from reaching out?”

“Morning.”

She looked up, and Axel had come into the room. Barefoot, he wore jeans, a half-buttoned flannel shirt, his hair behind his ear, just as devastatingly handsome as his brother, just as brave, but still they seemed so different. Axel outgoing, impulsive, heroic. Moose quiet, deliberate, protective.

“Morning.” She closed the Bible.

“What are you reading there?”

“I found it on the shelf.”

He sat on the other chair, reached out his hand. “Can I see?”

She handed it over, and as she did, it flopped and out dropped a letter. “Oops.”

He took the Bible. She picked up the letter.

Unopened.Return to senderwas stamped on the front. She put it on the arm of the chair.

Axel had opened the Bible to the ribboned mark. “Psalm 91. Yeah, that’s a good one. A friend of my mother’s had a canvas made of this verse with her name in it. She gave it to her when she had cancer.”

“She had cancer?”

“Years ago. Breast cancer. She’s fine—all clear. But I remember her memorizing this psalm, repeating it to herself. Made me do it too, and put my name in it.” He gave a chuckle. “‘Because Axel loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue him; I will protect him, for Axel acknowledges my name. Axel will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and showAxel my salvation.’”

He looked over at her. “It still sort of blows me away. I need to remind myself of this more often, probably.”

She stared at him.

“You try it.” He held the Bible out to her.

“No, that’s okay.” She held up her hand, not sure why. Maybe it just felt too intimate, too real.

Too much hope.

He narrowed his eyes at her, then set the Bible down on the table between them. “You okay? Pretty heavy stuff last night.”

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