Page 92 of One Last Promise

“Not half of Anchorage, but . . . ” He gave a tight-lipped nod.

For the first time, a spear shot through her, and she caught her breath. He wouldn’t?—

“So we need a place to hide out while we figure this out.”

Aw. Now she really did want to weep. She wiped her cheeks again. “Are you sure, Moose? I mean—I didn’t mean to get you this deep into trouble with me.”

“You think I’m just going to let you drive off into the night without helping you?”

She swallowed. “Um, yes.”

He met her gaze, his steady, almost painful. “Then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

Oh. But, “You’re such a . . . such a great guy. You’re always so calm, and . . . I just never meant to drag you into all this. You don’t deserve it.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not about deserving. None of us deserve grace. But when we get it, we pass it along. You don’t know me as well as you think, Tillie, and there’s a big part of me that doesn’t want you to. But the fact is, I have my own dark past that makes me understand you more than you think.” He squeezed her hand again. “And someday I’ll tell you about that. But for now . . . let me help you. BecauseI want to, okay?”

Oh. My. She nodded and wiped her cheeks. “Shoot, I don’t mean to make such a mess of your truck.”

He laughed then, big and thick, and it cascaded over her, drowning out all her thoughts, her worries, and even her fears.

Because clearly this man wasn’t afraid of her past, or her present?—

“Okay, first thing tomorrow, we get that key. We get that money. And then we figure out how to clear you and get Hazel back.”

—or . . . her future.

And suddenly, sitting in the warm car with him, watching the planes roar out into the darkness, listening to country music, the smells of chicken and apple pie seasoning the air, she couldn’t help but taste . . . hope.

She caught her breath.

His gray-green eyes settled on hers, and if there hadn’t been a console between them, she might have found herself with her arms around his neck, holding on.

Clearly it was a good thing the car had bucket seats.

“You okay?”

Not even a little. But she might be, if she held on tight. She nodded.

“Do you trust me, Tillie?”

She looked at his hand in hers, gripping it, warm, solid, and she hadnothingbut trust for this man.

Or just desperation. But all the same, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Good. Because I have a plan.”

She cocked her head. “What kind of plan?”

He smiled, and she caught a spark of something almost dangerous in his eyes. “It’s time for Staff Sergeant Tillie Young to show up for duty.”

CHAPTER 9

And here Moose thought he’d found the perfect hiding place.

Country music star Oaken Fox’s new home sat on a crest that overlooked the waters of Turnagain Arm, in an exclusive neighborhood off Seward Highway some forty-five minutes south of Anchorage.

But it could be hours away, given the seclusion, the tall Sitka spruce, mountain hemlock, and Alaskan yellow-cedar that surrounded the one-acre property.

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