Page 122 of One Last Promise

And it seemed she meant it because, six hours later, as he boarded the flight to Seattle from Anchorage, he spotted London in a seat near the window.Hisseat, according to his ticket.

“You’re in my seat.”

She patted the seat next to her. Smiled.

Huh.

He put his suitcase in the overhead compartment, then sat down.

Fine. “Okay, just to clear the air, yes, there are things about my past that . . . I don’t want to talk about. And Colt had his reasons for . . . what he asked you to do. But that’s in the past. And this is a new start, and—” She turned to him, her eyes searching his. “I trust you, Shep. I have since you saved my life.”

“I think you saved my life.”

She gave a half laugh. “Okay, so we saved each other. And yes, I think about those three days . . . more than you know.” She touched his hand. “Because of you, I found faith again, and hope, and I need to remember that. So yes, we’re friends.” She smiled then, her gaze warm.

Shoot. Now they were right back in the unrequitedromantic tragedy.

“Now, what movie are we going to watch?”

And just like that, it was over. And he saw it afresh, just like he had three years ago, when rescuers had finally lifted the debris from their ice cave and light had pierced the darkness.

Light. Hope.

Tomorrow.

This time, he wasn’t letting it get away.

She reached over to his screen and scrolled through the movies. “Let’s watch the newMission Impossiblemovie.” They laughed together, and during the layover, bought enough snacks and treats for the entire team—which worked out, since a storm front preceded them across the United States and they had to bed down in the Chicago O’Hare airport.

Even then, lying on a bank of seats, his head on his suitcase, London across from him, this felt like some sort of crazy new beginning.

See, Colt. Not all of his darkest fears came true.

Everything was going to be just fine.

She just knew that returning to Miami would bring out the demons.

Tillie stood outside the women’s detention center, her hair wet and pulled back in a hair tie, clutching the bag with Hazel’s stuffed puppy, feeling grimy to her soul. The words of her state-appointed defense attorney still hung in her head.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

There was more, of course, like her intent to use the defense ofreasonable cause of action against domestic violencefor her actions. Only problem was, the claim on that defense had expired about five years ago.

Which meant she was facing a felony inthe third degree.

Alone.

She’d left behind the beauty and autumn redolence of Alaska for the stifling September heat of Florida. The sun was already drying her hair, sending sweat down her back. This was not the prettiest part of town—the skyscrapers of downtown rose in the distance, and across the street, a broken fence cordoned off a weedy track and field, an extension of the nearby high school. Down the street, a vacant lot littered with garbage was guarded by chain link, and an abandoned building covered in graffiti suggested an area forgotten. The persistent grind of construction from a nearby street cluttered the seasoned air.

And God picked a funny time to walk into her head—if it was God at all.“‘Because Tillie loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue her. I will protect her, for she acknowledges my name.’”

Yeah. Well. . . Still, the thought of it pricked tears into her eyes. If she’d ever needed someone on her side . . .

She pinched her mouth at the memory of her words to Moose—“Don’t follow me. This is goodbye”—and hated the fact that down deep she hoped, desperately, that he’d be here, waiting for her.

She didn’t blame him for finally,finally, waking up to the truth.

She turned and headed down 7th Street, toward downtown. According to her lawyer, as the owner of the whole life policy, she could take out a loan against the cash value. She’d nearly maxed it out to pay her bond.

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