Page 1 of Unexpected Danger (Mountain Justice #2)

The noise jolted her from a sound sleep.

Who could be texting her at this time of night? Her first thought was Brodie. But no, he wouldn’t send a text.

Not out of nowhere.

Not after the way she’d broken his heart.

It could be Mom.

But no, she rarely contacted Londyn.

A friend, perhaps?

Was there an emergency?

Londyn Siegler reached an arm across the span of the nightstand to her cell phone. She opened one eye and clicked on the text icon from a number she didn’t recognize.

HELLO.

She returned the phone to the nightstand and rolled back over. Likely someone texting the wrong person.

The ping sounded once more. Whoever it was needed to save their communication until morning. She flipped the phone over again.

HELLO, BEAUTIFUL.

Londyn groaned. Most likely some lovelorn weirdo in a different time zone accidentally texting the wrong number at 1:45 a.m. And in all caps?

She was about to replace it on the nightstand again when another text popped up before she could clear her phone.

YOU’RE EVEN BEAUTIFUL WHEN YOU’RE SLEEPING.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she instinctively peered around her bedroom just to be sure no one was watching her sleep.

There would be no easy way for anyone to enter her room, not with the front door and windows locked.

Raindrops splattered against the window, and lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the slim cracks edging the area where the improperly cut blinds didn’t reach.

Londyn sat up, slipped out of bed, and padded across the wood floor. Cautiously, she peeked out the window. Tree branches waved in the wind, and a whistling sound from the wind entering the house through the poorly fitted window meshed with the sound of the spitting rain.

It was then that she saw him.

Or at least it looked like a “him”. But she couldn’t be completely sure.

Londyn rubbed a clear spot on the window where her breath had fogged it up for a better view.

Across the road in front of a nearly identical apartment building, someone lurked in the shadows, a dark-colored hood secured around his head.

He or she looked up, making eye contact with her.

She shivered, and her heart palpitated. Her feet refused to move and remained planted in place.

Seconds ticked by before the person retreated into the darkness of the night.

Londyn gripped the windowsill. Sweat chilled her forehead. Was he the same one sending her the texts? Or was it two different random people with no connection?

Should she call the police? Wait until tomorrow? Londyn left her post at the window. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she rushed to shut the bedroom door, lock it, and stand with her back to it, willing her heart to stop pounding incessantly in her ears.

Lord, please help me. Please let it have only been a nightmare.

She ignored the niggling voice in her head that reminded her she rarely had nightmares, or at least ones she remembered.

Weak legs carried her to her bed. Staring at her cell phone, she finally worked up the courage to check it for another message. Her hands trembled, and Londyn nearly dropped it as her shaking fingers hit the “block” button.

She’d not delete the texts—that much she knew from Brodie’s stint as a sheriff.

Always keep the evidence .

She’d heard him say that more than once, and she’d even heard his dad say it a time or two when the older Mr. Brenneman was the Pronghorn Falls County Sheriff.

Questions swarmed through her mind. If the man on the street and the texts were connected, who was he, and why was he contacting her? How had he gotten her number?

The rain continued to pound against the window, and in the upstairs apartment, someone walked across the floor.

Was the man still outside?

Londyn flung off the covers and again strode to the window. She strained to see across the street as raindrops obscured her vision. This time, no one was there.

Had it been her imagination?

She lifted the phone and re-read the texts.

While the stranger in the night could have been a figment in her mind, the texts were very real.

She should probably double-check that the front door was locked.

She rubbed her arms from the spring chill in the air and shuddered as she crept to the living room.

The glow from the streetlight confirmed the lock was secure.

Londyn froze in place for a second. In her months in a new city, she’d never once felt threatened or fearful. Living in the shabby apartment building with other tenants, she’d never once considered it to be anything but a new phase of starting over.

But now? There’d be no sleeping the remainder of the evening.

She wiped her clammy hands on her oversized t-shirt and tiptoed back to her room.

If she were still in Pronghorn Falls, she could call Brodie and tell him.

He’d be at her apartment in an instant, reassuring her he’d do all he could to protect her.

He’d hunt down whoever it was sending her the texts or enlist the help of the PD if it was in their jurisdiction.

She wasn’t in Pronghorn Falls, but instead over three hundred miles away. She opened the nightstand drawer to reveal the pistol Brodie purchased two years ago for her birthday.

A tremor ran through her that she may need to defend herself.

Should she call 911 and report a suspicious person? Years ago, when Brodie’s dad was the sheriff, he gave a talk at a self-defense class Londyn attended . “If something isn’t right, call law enforcement. It could be that you stop a crime from happening because you reported something.”

Yet, the man was gone, so it was likely the police wouldn’t be able to find him.

It was the middle of the night, and the rainstorm intensified.

She decided to wait until tomorrow morning and visit the police station to report the man and the texts.

She didn’t have to arrive at work until nine, so there would be time.

Finally, at 6:30, she awoke from a night of tossing and turning, unprepared to face the day.

She opened her Bible to the Book of John, which she’d started re-reading two weeks ago.

The words of John 16:33 leaped from the page.

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

Brodie removed his cowboy boots and swiped an arm across his forehead. It had been a day.

A good day because two teens had been found alive and rescued.

The Lord had certainly answered the prayers of numerous individuals, not only that the kids would be found, but that those involved in search and rescue would be kept safe as well.

He shrugged off his coat, far too thick and warm now that he was back in Pronghorn Falls and not gallivanting around in a remote area near the summit of Pronghorn Peak.

He really should take a shower first since his clothes were covered in caked mud, evidenced by the chips of crusted dirt flaking off his pant legs.

But his growling stomach prompted an alternative.

Brodie turned on the bathroom faucet, scraping a plethora of dirt crusted on his calloused hands and under his fingernails.

Weariness tugged at every part of him. He caught a glimpse of himself in the medicine cabinet mirror.

Dark circles underlined his eyes, splotches of filth covered his cheeks and forehead, and the facial hair he needed to remove from his upper lip and chin was speckled with debris from crawling through brush and hiking up the steep mountainside.

Just another day on the job.

Not actually, for rescuing two teens who’d gotten themselves lost and were unprepared for the spring weather in the rugged Pronghorn Mountains wasn’t typically in his job description.

But Search and Rescue was short a few volunteers, and Brodie had heard the call come in while he was patrolling the county.

Sure, as law enforcement, he made a difference every day, but this was more tangible.

The two teens, frightened and already experiencing the beginnings of hypothermia, clustered in a cave near the peak.

No food except for the two granola bars one of the boys brought along with him.

No water, no blanket, no jackets except lightweight hoodies, and no boots, only flimsy tennis shoes.

The sun had started to set, and one of the fourteen-year-old boys’ moms hadn’t heard from him in some time.

Thankfully, he’d told another friend they were planning to hike up to Pronghorn Peak.

Not the best time of year to climb to higher elevations. While most of the snow had melted, thick, chalky, clay-like sludge covered trails and roads, some of which were still closed. Temps during the day were a pleasant fifty degrees. Temps at night fell to the mid-thirties and below.

Brodie opened the refrigerator door and removed some leftovers from Mom’s lasagna she’d made when he’d joined his family for dinner at her house last night.

He removed the tinfoil, scooped a generous portion onto a plate, and popped it into the microwave.

With a plate of food and a glass of milk in hand, he shuffled to the kitchen table and prayed.

“Lord, You are faithful. Thank You for leading us to the teens and for letting it be a successful rescue attempt. So much could have gone wrong, but You guided our every step and protected all those involved. For that I am grateful.”

His prayer concluded with gratitude for the food and requests to keep his family and Londyn safe.

Londyn. The thought of her jolted him from his tired state. How was she? Did she regret moving? Had she texted Mom lately? How did she like living in the city?

None of those questions would be answered tonight. Brodie shoveled a few more bites into his mouth, willing himself not to fall asleep at the table.