by Dani Pettrey
Finley sat cross-legged, her back against the rough tree trunk, observing the palpable strain between Griffin and Parker as the night passed uncomfortably. She hated the dark surrounding her, but Griffin and Parker’s presence brought her a measure of comfort, made the fear itching to burst open remain beneath the surface.
Please, Father, don’t let Griffin, of all people, see me freak out. Settle the fear. He’s not here, and I’m not alone. I’m safe.
She mentally repeated the phrase over and over until the burgeoning panic simmered. She was safe. She didn’t really believe the words, but they worked enough to keep the façade in place.
Taking a deep breath, she shifted her attention to the two men with her.
What was the deal with them?
She’d known Parker for a year, ever since he’d been called in on the case that nearly destroyed her. He’d been the freelance investigator hired by the deceased’s family to help solve their daughter’s cold case when the county-appointed one had completely dropped the ball.
She’d only met Griffin a few months ago, but she felt she knew the straight-laced ranger better. And yet . . .
She gazed between the two men, startled at the depth of emotion welling on Ranger McCray’s pinched face. She wondered if she really knew him at all.
He stood. “Since we can’t do anything until dawn and you two are here to keep the site secure, I’m going to finish my rounds.”
She got to her feet, thankful Parker had swung by her office just down the hall from his at the medical examiner’s and grabbed her extra pair of tennis shoes. “I’ll go with you.”
Griffin quirked a brow.
“I’m getting restless just sitting. Parker can keep an eye on things. You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.
Parker lifted the hand casually draped across his knee in assent. “Of course not, love.”
Dark brown hair, deep green eyes, and a dynamic smile. Most women went nuts over the handsome man, and his gorgeous Irish accent only made him more attractive to most. But she’d never been attracted to him in that way. She appreciated his good looks and intellect but wasn’t drawn to them like a moth to a flame.
Griffin stiffened beside her. Curious. Was his discomfort because she was interrupting his solitude by joining him or because of Parker’s term of affection? Either way it didn’t matter. Walking would help ease the tightness in her belly. It always did.
She moved to Griffin’s side. “I’ll follow your lead.”
He hesitated a moment but then nodded and glanced over his shoulder at Parker. “Back in an hour.”
Parker lifted his chin.
Seriously. What was going on between these guys?
Griffin kept his stride firm, steadfast, the release of adrenaline a welcome relief. He hadn’t expected Finley showing up with a date to bug him so much. Regardless of his attraction, he’d never pursue her. The fact that his gut told him to go for it was proof enough not to.
But then hearing Parker call her “love”? Ugh. It had burrowed like a chigger under his skin—constant inflamed irritation gnawing at the surface.
“So . . .” she said, “ . . . you and Parker grew up together?”
The lady didn’t waste any time. He kept his stride brisk. “Yep.”
“Small world.”
He moved through the trees, darkness wrapping around them as the floodlights faded in the distance. “Yep.” Warmth filled his limbs as they wove through the narrow trunks lining the shallow gulley.
Reaching the top of the small ravine, the hairs along the nape of his neck pricked. Instinct kicked in and he snaked an arm around Finley’s waist, pulling her to him.
Panic surged in her eyes, and she struggled against his hold.
He quickly released her. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I heard something.” He gestured to the tree line.
“Oh.” Pink flushed her cheeks in the flashlight’s beam.
He held his finger to his lip, indicating silence, and cut the light.
She hovered beside him as he scoured the tree line, the distinct sensation of being watched raking over him.
He didn’t see anyone or hear anything further, but something held fast to his gut. Lowering his mouth, he whispered in her ear. “Take my hand.” He reached out for her.
She placed her palm against his, and he wrapped his fingers around hers, biting back a groan. Why did she have to feel so perfect?
Fixing his focus where it needed to be, he stalked toward the copse of trees, Finley fastened to his side.
Leaves crunched to the south of them—just the briefest whisper of sound, but distinct. Pulling his weapon, he ignored the concern on Finley’s face and continued forward. Twenty more strides and he stopped to listen again.
Finley’s hand tensed in his.
An owl hooted, and a small critter scampered through the underbrush behind them. Perhaps what he’d heard had just been an animal after all, but the sense of a threat wouldn’t release its hold.
Clicking his flashlight on, he reswept the area. Nothing.
Hmm. Maybe it was time to move on. He was just about to turn around when something scraped on their right, the sound of a jacket sleeve raking along a tree limb.
His vision narrowing, heart thudding, he tugged Finley into a full-out run. The beam of his flashlight bounced off the trunks surrounding them as they jumped over tangled roots and through sloshy ground cover.
Trees whizzed by, inches from his face. He ducked and swayed, praying Finley followed his lead.
A small yelp escaped her lips as she flailed forward. He tugged her hand upward, righting her.
He paused, his breath deep but even. “Are you okay?”
“Just caught my ankle on a root. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you okay to keep going?” He wouldn’t leave her behind. Not with the current unknowns. Who was out there? They clearly weren’t alone.
“Yes.” She rested her full weight on her ankle and winced. “I’ll be fine.”
No she wouldn’t. Not at the clip he needed. “Let’s get you back to the site.”
“Please, it’s a minor twist, if anything. I’m good. Let’s go.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” She started moving at a decent clip.
Impressive.
They tracked back through the woods, reaching the nearest road in time to see taillights disappearing in the distance.
Someone had been there. He knew it. But who, and why?
We hope you’ve enjoyed this special sample of Cold Shot by Dani Pettrey. For more information on this book, please visit www.bethanyhouse.com or your favorite bookstore.
Epilogue
FIVE MONTHS LATER . . .
Ben sat by Libby at the fire pit he’d built for them to enjoy while he continued working on his house. It was framed, paneled, and shingled. The only remaining work was on the inside. By spring it would be ready to move in to.
Libby had remained in Yancey until her next tournament and then returned at the end of September when her season was over. They’d spent the last three months inseparable, and he never wanted that to end.
He reached in his pocket and hooked his finger around the ring.
Libby lay against his chest, a thick wool blanket beneath them and another above as the fire crackled at their feet. It was too cold to remain out long, but this was where he wanted to propose—her curled up in his arms, the flames dancing along her skin, illuminating her blond hair much as the lantern had their first night together in the storm.
God had brought them through more than one gigantic storm, and he’d face a thousand more as long as she was at his side.
He pulled the ring out and her eyes widened. “I guess I better be on one knee for this.”
“I think you better forget the one knee and put that ring on my finger this instant.”
He chuckled. Only Libby. “I take that as a yes?”
She kissed her reply.
“Feel free to answer like that anytime you like.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled, staring at the ring on her finger. “I can’t wait to show my parents.”
“My and Mom’s first trip to the Caribbean.” Libby had invited them both for Christmas with her family.
“You guys will love it, but this, here . . .” she said gazing at the house and the land surrounding them. “This is home. You”—she rubbed his chest—“are my home.”
“And to think how it all started. One obstinate lady in sunflower rain boots.”
“And one strapping Alaskan fisherman afraid of a little rain.”
He laughed. “It’s hard to believe all we’ve been through.”
“Crazy.” She nestled against him, intertwining her fingers with his.
“Too bad we were sworn to silence and our kids will never get to hear the real story of how we met.”
She rolled on her stomach, facing him. “You think about our kids?”
“Of course.” He brushed her hair back. “Don’t you?”
She smiled. “Guilty.”
“Well, let’s hope we’ve gotten our fill of crazy and our kids can enjoy a nice, quiet, peaceful life.”
“I don’t know that I wish a quiet life for them,” she said.
He arched a brow. “You don’t?”
“No. I hope they have the heart of adventurers, like their parents.”
“Ah.” He smiled, kissing her. “Of course.”
“And deep love for one another and for the Lord.”
“Sounds like a great prayer for a great life.”
She rolled back around, lying against him. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
“Them?” He chuckled. “How many are there in that mind of yours?”
“Three . . . maybe. No. I don’t want to have a middle child. That can’t be any fun.”
“So four?”
“Four . . . or”—she held up their joined fingers—“maybe five, a full handful.”
“We have five adventurous kids who take after us, and we’re definitely going to have our hands full.”
She smiled, lowering her lips to his. “I can’t wait. It’ll be the best adventure yet.”
He couldn’t agree more.
About the Author
Dani Pettrey is the acclaimed author of the ALASKAN COURAGE romantic suspense series, which includes her bestselling novels Submerged, Shattered, Stranded, Silenced, and Sabotaged. And the first book of her CHESAPEAKE VALOR series, Cold Shot, releases February 2016. Her books have been honored with the Daphne du Maurier award, two HOLT Medallions, two National Readers’ Choice Awards, the Gail Wilson Award of Excellence, and Christian Retailing’s Best Award, among others.
She feels blessed to write inspirational romantic suspense because it incorporates so many things she loves—the thrill of adventure, nail-biting suspense, the deepening of her characters’ faith, and plenty of romance. She and her husband reside in Maryland, where they enjoy time with their two daughters, a son-in-law, and a super adorable grandson. You can find her online at www.danipettrey.com.
Books by Dani Pettrey
ALASKAN COURAGE
Submerged
Shattered
Stranded
Silenced
Sabotaged
Shadowed (Sins of the Past Collection)*
CHESAPEAKE VALOR
Cold Shot
*with Dee Henderson and Lynette Eason
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
Website: www.bethanyhouse.com
Facebook: Bethany House
