Page 39 of One Last Promise

Axel slid his phone across the island, and Moose picked it up, looked at the screen, his chest knotting.

“What?” Tillie asked.

“Local Anchorage media has picked up the altercation at the house.” He set the phone down. “Got a great shot of me getting arrested.”

Her mouth tightened.

“They listed my name. And Air One Rescue.” He slid the phone back to Axel.

Silence as Axel met his gaze. It wouldn’t be hard for Rigger to track down Moose’s home address.

Which meant whatever had been started back at Roz’s house might get finished here. And sure, he had security, but the first rule of defense was to not get caught in the first place.

He didn’t need to know all the reasons why they were in this situation.

He just needed to know Tillie andHazel were safe.

He put down his fork. “How would you guys like to go on a road trip?”

Hazel had finished her mac and cheese and now put her glass down, really cementing that milk mustache.

“Where?” Tillie asked.

“Do you trust me?”

She swallowed, then nodded.

“Good. Get your stuff. We leave in ten.”

He got up from the stool.

Axel came around to grab his plate. “Tell Mom hi.”

Moose had brought her to his home.

His. Home.

With his father and mother. And a dog named Kip and a huge yard, with a slide and fresh air and a river she’d warned Hazel not to get close to, and fresh-made cinnamon rolls and . . .

Peace.

Or at least a ceasefire between the guilt and shame in her soul.

Guilt that she’d dragged Moose into her problems. Shame that she hadn’t been smarter, kept Hazel safe.

Kept the promise to Pearl.

But here, as Tillie stood in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, nursing a cup of coffee on Moose’s deck, watching Hazel throw a stick for Kip in the yard . . . she simply breathed.

In. Out. Fresh air. Safety.

Overhead, to the west, a few dark low-hanging clouds suggested a storm, but around them, the sky arched blue and beautiful, the majestic Alaska Range jutting through the clouds, triumphant, some of the peaks glistening a glorious white.

And the air. Piney, with the wind stirring up atangy, delicious fall scent. The river at the far end of the property rushed, a distant applause to the day.

“There you are.”

Moose came out of the door to the main floor of his parents’ A-frame home. An apron deck wrapped around the sides and front and jutted out over a lower floor that opened up into the yard.

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