Page 341 of Rangers Last Promise

The sign hung straight.

The porch had been repaired.

Fresh paint covered the brick, flower boxes sat beneath the windows, and enough trucks filled the parking lot to prove the place was doing well.

I almost kept driving.

Max lifted his head from the passenger seat and looked at me.

“Don’t start.”

His ears moved forward.

“I’m not nervous.”

He stared.

“I faced men with machine guns without blinking.”

Max yawned.

“Your support is overwhelming.”

For three years, the two of us had driven wherever the road took us. We slept in cheap motels, camped beside lakes, crossed mountains, and left every town before anyone could ask whether we planned to stay.

We never did.

There was always another road.

Another state.

Another reason not to stop.

Then Wolf called two weeks ago.

He hadn’t asked where I was.

He hadn’t told me to come to Eagle River.

He had only said, “Your room is still here.”

I never told him I was coming.

If I had, I might have changed my mind.

I turned into the parking lot and backed my truck into a space near the porch. Max stood before I switched off the engine.

“Stay.”

He sat.

“You’re enjoying this.”

His mouth opened in what looked too much like a grin.

I climbed out and stared at the tavern.

Music drifted through the open windows. Someone laughed inside. Glasses clinked, chairs scraped across the floor, and the smell of grilled onions reached me from the kitchen.