Page 57 of One Last Promise

Just like that, the forest stopped. She tried to pull up, but the land had slid down, and with one slippery step, she stepped into midair.

Went over the edge.

Mudslide. The entire cliff had given way, fallen toward the river, a slope of trees and debris that ended in a yawn at the bottom.

She fought the descent, clawing at anything to slow herself, but the rain was a river that caught her up, shot her down the mountainside. She rolled over and snagged herself on a jutting log just before her momentum would have plummeted her over.

She hung, half in, half out ofthe mouth of a drop.

And when she looked down, there, some twenty feet into the well of the cave, on a ledge, sat Hazel, her knees drawn up, Kip struggling out of her arms to get to the intruder, barking wildly.

Mist rose from the depths below, and a rumble suggested the creek, angry and rising, flowing at the base.

“Hazel!”

“Mom!”

Just as she might have slung her leg up and found purchase, something hit her hold hard and dislodged her.

She dropped like a rock into the cavern, through the mist.

Water closed over her as she splashed down, a thousand icicles spearing her body. She clamped her mouth shut to stifle a scream, then kicked hard.

She didn’t surface—instead, her head banged on a rock, so hard it nearly knocked the breath from her. She put her hands up, fighting, the current yanking her?—

A tunnel. Or a channel. Under the walls of the cavern, tumbling her out into the river, away from Hazel.

No!She kicked, fought, twisted, her hands fighting for a hold on the rock, but the current turned hungry, wedging her into a gnarled, rocky egress?—

Then a grip closed around her wrist and yanked.

It forced her against the current, and when another hand grabbed her jacket and pulled, she broke the surface.

She heaved in hot, razor breaths.

“Breathe, Tillie. You’re okay.”

Air. It smelled of dirt and moss and decay.

Moose had pulled her against him and now put his arm around her waist, kicking to tread water, his other hand gripping the cave wall. Blood trickled from a wound on his temple. Her own head throbbed.

She finally caught her breath. “You nearly killed me!”

His eyes widened.

“You came down on me?—”

“You pushed me!”

Her mouth opened. But he was right.

“It’s okay,” he said, his tone clipped back, calmer. “We’re okay?—”

“Mom!”

She looked up, and Hazel peered over from the cliff, ten feet above.

“Hazel. Are you okay?”

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