Chapter Seven
Amelia
I eyed the moose standing between my brother’s battered truck and me. The moose in question, a gangly female yearling, stared back at me. Its brown fur looked soft, its dark eyes wide and curious. The moose looked so at ease, I might’ve been tempted to carry on and walk straight past it, but I knew better. Moose were near-sighted. I figured I looked like a blurry shape at this distance. If I were lucky, the moose would bolt in the opposite direction when I got close enough, but that was no guarantee. More people were injured by moose every year in Alaska than by bears. Moose weren’t predatory, but they startled easy. You never knew if they’d run off or run at you, so it was best to steer clear.
I leaned against the deck railing and waited. A squirrel peered over at
