Page 44 of One Last Promise

The street wasn’t busy, but she still thought it sweet when he held out an arm, as if to protect her as they crossed the street in front of Denali Sports. They passed the Forest Service office, then Bowie Mountain Gear. He held the door open for her at the Last Frontier Bakery.

Inside, a few people sat in worn leather chairs, their coffees sitting on side tables made from rough-hewn pine. That same pine covered the lofted ceiling and walls, and the place smelled richly of the north woods and coffee.

“Hey, Moose,” said a woman over the sound of milk frothing.

Tillie followed the greeting and spotted a young woman who appeared in her late teens. She wore her dark curly hair in front cornrows, tufted and free in the back, and a black apron with the store emblem on the front.

“Hey, Cally. How about a snowflake cocoa?”

“Milk, white, or dark chocolate?”

“Dark, and—” He looked at Tillie.

“White.”

“On it.” Cally disappeared behind the array of machines at the counter.

A man in the corner called a greeting, and Moose walked over and shook hands.

The local sheriff, by the looks of it. Good-looking, early thirties, brown hair, a gaze that flicked over to her.

“Deke. How are you?”

“You know. The usual. Broke up a party over at the Copper Mountain campground last night. Caught a speeder out on the highway. And there’ve been reports of a moose in the area, wandered into a few yards.”

“It’s notbreeding season yet.”

“No, but it’s gone from hot to chilly quickly. Could be messing with their rutting season.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Cocoa’s up,” said Cally.

Tillie had listened to it all from across the room as she read posters of past and upcoming events. Like the big summer breakup and the fall bluegrass festival, held over Labor Day. Pinned to the board were advertisements for houses for rent, pizza delivery from Northstar Pizza, an event at the library that involved an out-of-town author, and a call for participants for classes at a nearby art center.

Moose walked up to her holding the cups of cocoa.

She took hers. “This is a cute town.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes.”

“Please.” She took a sip of cocoa as they pushed through the door into the sunshine. “Oh, wow. This is?—”

“Told you.”

Yeah. The sun hung high overhead, peeling away the slight chill that scurried in around the fir trees that hugged the buildings. The entire town seemed about three blocks large, with one main street and a few off-streets. Quaint.

The kind of town she wouldn’t mind raising Hazel in.

“This looks like a great little town to be from.”

“It is. But it’s also suffocating. Everyone knows everyone. And everything.”

Right. They’d started walking down the street, toward the river that flowed at the edge of town.

“So, not a great place to hide, then,” she said.

He glanced at her. “Oh, um . . .”

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