Page 50 of One Last Promise

He stood there for a long moment as she called Hazel’s name, the sound dissipating in the rain.

Then he took her hand. “I’m going to run. Shout if you’re falling too far behind.”

She nodded, a grit to her jaw, and he suddenly saw the strength and determination that had made her an Iron Maiden.

Then he took off down the path. It was slippery, but he wore boots, so his feet found purchase, although the branches slowed him down. One of them hit him across the face, and his mouthburned, tasted tinny.

Behind him, Tillie’s breath came hard.

But she kept up.

They arrived at the yard, and he spotted his mother on the deck, still in her gear, and the fact that Hazel hadn’t returned felt like a punch to the sternum. But he didn’t slow and thundered his way up the stairs.

“Nothing?”

He shook his head, and his mother covered her mouth with her hands.

Tillie came up behind her.

“Mom, get Tillie some rain gear and boots.”

His mother nodded, and his command seemed to embolden her. She headed toward the house, Tillie behind her.

He followed, then pulled off his boots in the entryway and headed up the stairs. On the way, he pulled out his phone and checked the cell service. Finally back in range.

Then he reached for Ridge White’s card on his dresser and dialed, setting it on speaker. He was digging out dry clothes when the man answered.

“Ridge. It’s Moose.”

“Moose! Hey, man, how?—”

“Is Stormi around?”

A beat. “Yeah, right here.”

Stormi came on the line, clearly on speaker. “What’s going on?”

“I have a missing girl. You think Rome can help find her?”

Another beat. “Absolutely. Where?”

“I’ll have my dad pick you up. Be ready in five.”

He pulled on a dry thermal shirt and Gore-Tex pants as he called his father.

“I’m already closing the shop,” his dad said. “I’ll swing by the Samsons’.”

“Perfect. And hurry.”

By the time he was downstairs, Tillie had changed,her hair back in a ponytail and under a wool cap. She sat on a chair, pulling on Gore-Tex pants. His mother had piled a bright yellow jacket on the table and a pair of wool socks and gloves.

Now she closed the closet near the door and set a bag on the table—flares, a space blanket, a couple power bars, matches, and a candle.

“It’s our winter bag,” she said.

Moose grabbed it and shoved it into a backpack near the door. Then he went to the walkie set charging on a stand. “Mom always made us take these when we went out to play.” He turned one on, then another, and checked them. Gave one to Tillie, and put the other on a hook in his jacket pocket.

“Mom, you have the third, and when dad gets here, you give Stormi the last one.”

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