Page 8 of Unexpected Danger (Mountain Justice #2)

Thoughts of Londyn flooded his mind. He withdrew their yearbook from the shelf beside the recliner and flipped it open.

They’d been best friends ever since Londyn moved to Pronghorn Falls as a kid.

With the exception of his football and soccer pictures, and her volleyball and basketball pictures, they were together in every picture.

A picture of them at the prom, a picture of them in the Honor Society sitting beside each other, a photo of them on the tennis team—the team that would have been far better off without the two of them, since neither had ever really grasped the sport.

There were pictures of them at games, at the athletic awards ceremony, where they both lettered in their respective sports and went home with various awards. Well, all except tennis awards.

There was a picture of them on the senior trip where the whole class rode horseback in the mountains. There were pictures of them with other friends sitting in the back of Dad’s vintage Chevy. And the list went on.

In short, they were inseparable.

At one point, he thought it would have been her that he would have married and had a family with. In a split second, he was transported back in time.

They’d gone to the park for the prom, she in her purple dress and he in his tux.

As far as he was concerned, if he ever wore a tuxedo again, it would be too soon.

Others had met them there for part of the time, and they swung on the swings and hitched a ride on the archaic merry-go-round after eating at a fast-food restaurant.

Then they’d gone for a walk—everything had been as friends.

Years later, he realized he liked Londyn for more than just friendship. He wasn’t getting any younger, and it was time to make his feelings known. After dating for a while, he thought she felt the same—was sure she felt the same.

How wrong he was.

All those years later, he’d attempted to replicate that memorable time after prom at the park. They’d gone out to eat as they often did, then he’d driven to the town park. They’d swung on the swings, gone for a walk, laughed, and reminisced.

He’d put some of their goofy music from when they were in high school on his phone and twirled her around as they danced just like they had at the prom. They were no longer teenagers, but adults. Wiser, more established, and in his mind, ready to take the next step.

The way she’d smile at him, the way she grabbed his hand when they walked, and the way she rested her head on his shoulder on the merry-go-round.

On the merry-go-round, he’d spun it as fast as he could, then leapt on, bemoaning the fact that he wasn’t as agile as he’d been a decade ago.

They’d sat in the middle, and as she rested her head on his shoulder, he rested his head on hers, and while dizzy and concerned that the food he’d eaten for dinner would be making a reemergence, he’d enjoyed every second of being with her.

They climbed off, teetering and stumbling until they had plopped down on a nearby bench. He reached into his jean jacket pocket. The box was still there. The treasure within tucked safely inside. A month’s worth of wages spent on what he hoped would symbolize his commitment to her.

Yes, he’d been so sure she’d felt the same. They shared a history, knew so much about each other, and he wanted a future with her—a future that included marriage.

After their stomachs had settled from the dizzying ride on the merry-go-round, he reached for her hand.

Then he worked up the courage. He’d prayed for several days that God would give him wisdom, that he was doing the right thing in asking her.

There was no one else for him and no one else he ever wanted to marry, but above all else, he wanted God’s will.

God’s will strongly differed from what Brodie expected.

Brodie had knelt on one knee in front of Londyn, his hand in his pocket, firmly clasping the green box.

“Londyn…”

She’d already started to shake her head. But he dismissed it.

Surprisingly, he’d been able to speak the words he’d rehearsed, even though his voice and legs shook, sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and his unsteady removal of the box that held the ring was more reminiscent of an elderly man than one not yet thirty.

He opened the velvet box, revealing the diamond engagement ring .

“Londyn, I love you. I have for a long time. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I can’t.”

Had he misheard her?

“What?”

“I can’t marry you.”

“You can’t?”

“I’m sorry, Brodie.”

“But…”

She turned from him, and her shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed. He attempted to comfort her, but she broke free of his grasp and walked to his truck without looking back. He followed her and reached for her arm. “Londyn, wait.”

She turned to face him but didn’t meet his eye.

“Help me understand.” His words came out more terse and louder than he’d intended.

She flinched, and Brodie removed his hand. “Please.”

She shook her head and bit her lip.

Brodie needed her to explain. Needed to know the why of her answer.

They stood there beneath the moonlight, the ring tucked haphazardly back into his pocket. “Londyn, I love you.”

She dipped her head, and he lifted her chin. “I love you,” he repeated.

His heart broke into a million pieces when the words he longed to hear were not spoken in return.

It was the only time he’d nearly lost his temper with her, and even then, he’d remained calmer than he ever thought possible. Only by God’s grace, because some strange emotion of hurt, anger, fear, and disbelief all rolled into one settled in his stomach.

Somewhere, a car horn beeped, and the streetlight flickered.

“Do you love me?” he’d whispered.

Londyn said nothing.

Just left him there to have his heart torn from his body in one fell swoop.

He drove her home and walked her to her door as he always did. This time, there was no inviting him in for a movie and popcorn. No goodnight kiss. No “see you tomorrow” before he left. Just another muffled apology before she shut the door and walked out of his life forever.

Brodie gave her space, hoping she’d reconsider, but he’d not force her to love him or to marry him. She had to do that on her own.

A week later, Londyn texted him to say she was moving out of town. Just like that. No explanation. No saying she would miss him. Nothing about the enduring friendship they’d shared for nearly two decades or the subsequent dating relationship.

Just, “I’m moving.”

Mom had grieved as though she’d lost a daughter.

And Brodie as though he’d lost the love of his life.

Because he had.

He’d gone over that day over and over again in his mind at least a million times. Would she still be here if he hadn’t proposed? Should he have gone after her? Should he have visited her apartment to say goodbye before she left?

Brodie had wanted to say so much more. In hindsight, it was better that God held his tongue that day. No sense in driving her further away.

If that were even possible.

He had only heard from her a handful of times since. Each time, he’d responded with a lackluster response. He’d pridefully acted as though her decision had little effect on him.

Numerous times, he wrestled with whether to text her more often, but in the end, hadn’t. Mom had. She’d heard from Londyn on occasion, although only to say “hi” or “hope everyone is doing well,” and one time, an apology. Never an explanation.

And never once to thank Mom for all she’d done and for being the mother Londyn never had.

Even now, when the call came in with no voice message, Brodie had contemplated whether or not to call her back. He stared at his phone and at her number on the screen. His finger hovered over the call button. It was late, but if she needed him—

If that was why she’d called…

Brodie swallowed the bitter taste of indecision, prayed a hasty prayer, hoping God would answer the burning question immediately, then turned off his phone for the night and wandered to his bedroom, all the while knowing sleep would elude him.