Alaskan Mountain Attack

by Sarah Varland

  Then again, running away accomplished nothing.

  “To be honest, I don’t know. But I don’t know why I’m in here in the first place.”

  “Because I asked you to have coffee with me because I can’t sleep, and you’re a gentleman.” Piper poured the coffee into a mug and handed it to him. “You can go back to your car. Or your house. I’m really okay, Judah.” She considered him for a minute, almost looked like she was contemplating asking him something. Or saying something.

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. Really.”

  It was the kind of “nothing” that always actually meant “something.” Judah waited. Piper sighed.

  “Can we be friends?” she asked.

  It was the last question he’d have expected her to ask, and somehow for Piper, it made perfect sense.

  “Yes.” He answered without thinking and then wondered at how quickly the word had come. But why shouldn’t they be? Judah didn’t want to date anyone, but she wasn’t asking that anyway, nor was he full of himself enough to think she might want to. She was asking for friendship and he could give that.

  Right?

  He had acquaintances. He spoke to his brother, mostly, if he had to talk to anyone about anything.

  “Good.” She looked relieved. “So if we’re friends, can I talk to you about something? Here, sit back down.”

  He did so and she sat across from him at the table.

  “So, someone is after me.”

  He nodded, recognizing her tendency to process out loud, from the brief time they’d spent together so long ago. They’d met climbing, spent weeks climbing together, getting to know each other, just as friends, eating out, like friends did, and it had been starting to grow into more, the attraction between them mutual, when Judah broke it off.

  “How am I supposed to handle this? You’re a police officer. You’re used to this kind of danger. As a friend, can you tell me how to do this and not panic?”

  “I don’t know,” he started, feeling like that answer was honest all by itself, but wanting to give her more to work with than that. “It’s just something that happens in my job and I deal with it when I have to. But, Piper, it isn’t your job and, like you were alluding to earlier, it’s totally unexpected. Maybe go a little easier on yourself.”

  She sat up straight, raised her eyebrows. “You’re telling me to go easy on myself?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You should listen to your own advice, you know.”

  Judah didn’t know what to say to that. Sure he expected a lot from himself, but his job demanded it.

  Piper shook her head. “You act half-afraid of me, did you know that?”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, either.

  “Look, should we just get it all out in the open? Yes, we thought about dating ages ago. We hung out. We were friends. We...kissed.”

  She stopped and he wondered for half a second if she was reliving it the way he accidentally was.

  It had been far and away the best kiss of his life.

  “But you didn’t... We...” She took a breath and he watched her controlled facade fall back into place again. “That wasn’t something that continued, so now we are friends, and I’m going to help you figure out who’s after me. So can you please just loosen up? I promise I’m not going to kiss you again.” A hesitant smile inched across her face, which only made his attention go to her lips. Her soft, full lips that he knew all too well could draw out feelings in him that he’d never experienced before or since.

  That promise she’d made, not to kiss him again...

  He wished he liked that reassurance.

  Judah took a long sip of coffee, burning his tongue in the process, but maybe it was good. It kept him grounded in reality. The middle of the night was a fine time to have a conversation with someone who’d been through trauma and needed an ear. It was a lousy time of day to have a conversation about why you didn’t date someone.

  Especially since...

  Well, it sounded almost like she regretted that nothing more had happened between them. And if he was honest with himself, Judah did, too.

  And that was almost scarier than the thought of coming face-to-face with whoever had attacked her. He didn’t do vulnerability, didn’t put himself into situations that involved risk like the risk you had to take to love someone and let yourself be loved by them.

  “I’ll loosen up. And you don’t have to...promise anything.” Judah widened his eyes as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “I mean... I didn’t mean you did have to kiss.” He trailed off as Piper’s laughter erased the awkwardness of what he had said.

  “You’re fine, Judah. Okay, we’re good. I feel better about that.”

  “Think it’s time for you to try to get more rest?” he asked, because he didn’t want her to be tired, but also because he felt like he needed to go back to his car. Being around Piper was exhilarating, but it pulled his attention away from where it needed to be, which was on keeping her safe.

  “I should try to sleep, yes.” She took the empty coffee mug he handed back to her. “Thanks for talking to me. For being here. Thanks for all of it.”

  He smiled at her, the years falling away. For a second, she was the woman he’d met at an outdoor rock-climbing crag, who had impressed him with her guts and her grace, and he felt almost like he had a second chance.

  Surely God knew he didn’t intend to date anyone anymore? He’d seen what heartbreak could do to a person, when his brother got divorced. It seemed like Levi’s commitment to his job had a lot to do with the demise of his first marriage, and Judah had decided then that if he had to pick, he picked his work.

  Now he wondered if that had been a foolish choice.

  Levi had fallen in love again and seemed to be living happily ever after. He was still a cop. It was working for him.

  But in their line of work there were no do-overs. There was no room for mistakes. And Judah didn’t trust himself to do the job well and try to maintain a relationship.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled sadly, feeling almost like he was saying goodbye all over again as he walked away. “Good night, Piper. Sleep well.”

  FOUR

  Piper had been so sure she wouldn’t sleep at all after that awkward, tension-filled conversation with Judah, but she’d gone back to her room, and either the relief of getting her thoughts off her chest, or the knowledge that he was in the driveway, doing his best to keep her safe, had allowed her to relax into some of the best sleep she’d had in a while.

  Now it was morning, and she was downstairs, awake enough to think through all they’d talked about, to wonder if she’d imagined the sadness on his face as he walked away. She’d always assumed when he broke things off between them that she had done something wrong, but now she wondered. What had happened? Maybe she’d get the chance to ask him, now that they would be working together. Piper thought about it as she brewed coffee, then poured two mugs of it and walked to the front door. Surely Judah would want some after staying awake all night.

  But when she walked outside she found that Judah was gone.

  So Piper went back in, locking the door firmly behind her because daylight had not chased away her fears. She drank both cups of coffee. There was no reason to be upset, she reminded herself, rolling her eyes at her own disappointment. It was morning now, and she wasn’t in an isolated area of the wilderness, so Judah must have decided she was probably safe enough. And she agreed with him.

  She wasn’t afraid here, not now. At least not too afraid, with the door locked. But she did miss him.

  Ridiculous.

  Also, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. They’d discussed last night the possibility of her helping with the case, but Piper was even more aware in the cold light of day of how unqualified she was to assist in any way with
real investigative work. But there had to be something. Even if she just went through files and helped organize potential threats...

  There had to be something. And Judah had seemed fine with the idea of her helping. So why wasn’t he here now? Telling her what their next step was?

  Of course he’d have to go home, she told herself as she started up the stairs, making a plan for the day, putting items on her mental to-do list. Coffee, check. Now she’d shower, get dressed and go straight to the police department. She wasn’t hungry enough for breakfast and she was eager to get started on doing something to help solve this case. For all she knew, another officer would be the one primarily working her case and she’d seen the last of Judah last night.

  That thought made her sadder than it should have. Much as he frustrated her, she...well, she liked him. Like-liked him, as her friends would have said in middle school.

  She’d just reached the top of the stairs when the doorbell rang. Hurrying back down, she blinked when she saw that Judah was the one standing there. She was still formulating an intelligent response when she opened the door and he grinned. All thought ceased in the face of that expression. Judah didn’t smile like that often. He usually looked more like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, jaw tight, a small frown between his eyebrows. So when he smiled, it made an impact. One Piper felt all the way to her toes.

  The man had the oddest talent for making her feel like an overwhelmed teenager with a crush. But in a good way.

  “Miss me?” Judah said and Piper couldn’t help but smile back. Awkward as it had been, it seemed their conversation last night, the way she’d dragged the past kicking and screaming into the open and demanded they both acknowledge it, had helped. He seemed lighter this morning. And she felt less awkward. Piper stepped aside so he could enter the house, and locked the door behind him.

  “You know I did.” She flirted back, smiling in a way that she hoped implied she was kidding. This was how their relationship had been: easy. Judah had seemed enchanted by her ability to keep things light.

  And then he’d ended things before they’d really started.

  If she had to guess, he was keeping things this way on purpose. This time, she’d take what was offered, enjoy his friendship and not try to take this any further.

  But still, seeing serious Judah Wicks, especially now that she knew him better, lighten up like this? It made her want to spend the rest of her life making him laugh.

  And appreciating the stability he could offer her.

  She shoved that thought away. Too close to things she made it a policy not to think about. The past was just that. Past. Over.

  She was an adult now.

  “Seriously.” Judah’s face shifted to match what he said, and it felt like the sun had gone behind a cloud. “You mentioned last night that you wanted to help. You don’t have to, but if you still want, I’m offering to drive you to the police station to talk to me.”

  “You’re working the case?”

  He nodded. “Of course I’ll check in with my boss, have help from some other officers if necessary, but I’m the one primarily looking into it.”

  Piper nodded, aware she probably looked ignorant as to how all of this worked, but fought to keep her relief from showing that he would be the one investigating her particular case. For some reason she trusted him more than she did anyone else at the department. Probably that vibe of “you can count on me” that he gave off with every steady breath, with the way he stood there, broad shoulders ready to carry someone else’s burdens. Her burdens.

  “I still want to help.” Piper widened her eyes. “I would, no matter who was working it, I mean. But you are. So I am. I mean. I...” She rubbed her forehead, dragged her hand down her cheek and shook her head. “I want to help, yes.”

  “No coffee yet?” he asked.

  “Two mugs, actually.” Clearly she wasn’t cut out for that much caffeine in that short a time. “Let me run upstairs and get dressed and I can come with you.”

  Judah nodded and Piper hurried up the stairs. In the daylight, she could almost imagine this was exciting, helping with a case. Nothing seemed as scary right now as it had yesterday, but she knew that the way she’d almost separated herself mentally from the trauma was a coping mechanism, nothing more. Eventually her mind and body would have to deal with that. Nothing ever just disappeared.

  She’d learned that the hard way after she’d finally broken up with her ex-boyfriend Drew. But that had been years ago, long before she’d even met Judah. She was better now. Healing. Ready to keep moving forward.

  Still, the relationship had lasted almost a year and been incredibly toxic. Those few weeks she’d spent so much time with Judah last year had been the first time she’d let herself think maybe she could have a relationship with a guy and trust him not to be a controlling jerk.

  Judah hadn’t been controlling, and hadn’t been a jerk. He just...hadn’t wanted to date her.

  There was no crime in that. But it had still hurt.

  Piper changed into a fresh pair of dark gray climbing pants and pulled on her favorite top—an old workout T-shirt she’d gotten at a bouldering competition in Anchorage years ago. Then she grabbed a sweatshirt. She’d want it if there was a breeze. Not that they were planning to be outside. But if there was one thing she’d learned over her years living in Alaska, it was that one should always dress for all contingencies. There was nothing worse than the sun coming out, the mountains calling you to come explore, and realizing you had on the wrong shoes and had to go home and change. Piper preferred to always be ready for adventure.

  She hurried back down the stairs to Judah, who was waiting in the living room.

  “You’re ready?” He blinked back his surprise, not covering it very well, and Piper laughed. “What, because I’m a woman I take forever to get ready? You don’t know me well enough to assume things like that about me.”

  She could almost read his mind as she watched him sober quickly. He didn’t know her well enough. He could have, but he’d decided not to.

  Hadn’t wanted to. And there they were, back in the same awkwardness of last night.

  She cleared her throat. “Let’s head out, then, okay?”

  Judah nodded, opened the door for her, and they walked to his car.

  Piper took one deep breath, then another, trying to calm her nerves enough that she could get through today. She wasn’t asking for a superhuman ability to ignore her doomed attraction to Judah. Just the steadiness to stop making a fool out of herself. Maybe the ability to make absolutely no impression at all, since it was that or a bad one.

  * * *

  They didn’t say much on the drive to the station. Judah wasn’t a car talker, and Piper didn’t seem inclined to speak much this morning, either. He didn’t know if that was normal for her or if she was still bothered by what had happened yesterday.

  Well, of course she would be bothered. Someone wanted her dead, and that was undeniably bad. But Judah couldn’t tell if her awareness of that was keeping her from carrying on a conversation or if she just didn’t feel like it this morning.

  When they pulled into the familiar parking lot—where, less than twelve hours before, she’d had bullets flying at her—Judah saw her tense. So, after they were parked, he came around to her side, opened the door and then tucked his arm around her while they hurried inside. The way she nestled into him told him she appreciated it, even if she did jump away from him as soon as they were inside, as though she’d been burned.

  Maybe she had been. Maybe they both had.

  * * *

  They’d walked straight to the conference room of the police station and then Judah had left to get the files they needed. When he returned, he stood in the doorway of the conference room and studied Piper for a second. Piper sat alone, looking at the blank wall of the conference room, tapping her fingers on
the chair. Her mouth was set in a firm line, her jaw tense. Her expression said she would rather be anywhere but here. But she was here. Why? Judah knew Piper was the kind of woman a man could spend a lifetime trying to figure out. It was part of the reason, too, why he’d been attracted to her in the first place. She wasn’t a stereotype, didn’t seem quite like the type of person anyone expected her to be. It made her difficult to get to know.

  He’d only left her alone in the room for about five minutes. He’d had to go up to the front desk and meet Jake Stone, the head of Piper’s SAR team, to retrieve the files he’d wanted to take a look at. It seemed Raven Pass SAR was a little behind the times with its records. While they’d started digitizing some things, most of their past case reports were still hard copies.

  “I’ve got the files, Piper,” he finally said, softly. She jerked to attention, her petite shoulders straightening.

  She nodded. “Good. I’m ready.”

  Judah needed to make himself stop noticing details about her that weren’t pertinent. For example, it was okay to notice that she seemed tense. It wasn’t okay to wish he could wrap his arms around her, hug her in hopes that would help her anxiety disappear. He needed to see how she was handling this emotionally, not push her to help at the expense of her mental health, just like he would with any civilian who was helping in this sort of capacity. He did not need to notice the particular blue of her eyes, the way they were warm and drew him in. He did not need to remember what it had felt like to have her eyes focused on him, her laughter, way back when they’d first met by chance climbing—him experienced, her just starting out in the sport.

  He needed his focus purely on this case. And as many times as Judah had been accused of over-compartmentalizing in his life, he needed to employ that skill right now. Piper just made it more difficult for him. Her involvement made this case automatically feel personal.