He wasn’t sure if that was his own inner voice or one borrowed from his father, but either way it could shut the fuck up. Now, though, standing in the parking lot, he was tempted to turn around, get back in his rented SUV, and get the hell out of Dodge.Ĭoward. But the woman had sounded serious, so Jericho had come. The woman who’d called him had said he should hurry, but that made no sense if his father’s injuries were serious enough to be life-threatening, he would have been airlifted to the bigger hospital in Missoula, not left in the clinic next to the fevers and gas pains and broken wrists. He pulled into the clinic parking lot on the edge of town and wondered again why the hell he was there. He’d just gotten used to bigger things.īut now he was back. His inner voice had never been kind to him, but he knew it was right in this case. Things hadn’t actually changed that much in the fifteen-odd years since he’d left Mosely, Montana: there were one or two new stores and a few missing, and an extra stoplight bringing the town’s grand total to three, but otherwise, things seemed the same.
That was Jericho Crewe’s first thought as he drove down Main Street.
Everything was smaller than it used to be.
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