Into the Fog (Book 1: Peach Blossom Romantic Suspense Series) ebook

I'm MJ Goodrich

After serving with the Army Rangers in Afghanistan, I came to rural Oklahoma to help my mom with her peach orchard and start over. Every morning, I run with my new friend, Kelsey. But today, something’s off—she’s late, and the fog is thicker than ever.

When Kelsey finally shows up, her red, puffy eyes tell me she’s had a rough morning. As we set off on our usual route, the fog thickens and a bad feeling gnaws at me. Kelsey, always so secretive about her past, seems even more on edge. Suddenly, she decides to sprint into the dense fog alone. Moments later, I hear a scream and the sound of a crash.

Panic hits. I run toward the noise, only to be attacked and thrown into an icy creek. Injured and desperate, I fear the worst for Kelsey. Just when I think I can’t get up, a stranger with kind blue eyes helps me to my feet. But who is he, and can I trust him?

Determined to find Kelsey, I push through the pain and the fog. Clues point to something sinister, and I realize our small town of Peach Blossom holds dark secrets. With the help of this mysterious stranger, I have to navigate through danger, uncover hidden truths, and face my own past traumas.

This isn’t just about saving my friend—it’s about finding redemption and a second chance at life and love. "Into the Fog" is a story of resilience, faith, and the unbreakable bonds formed in the face of adversity. If you’re into gripping suspense and heartfelt romance, join me on this journey and discover the strength within.

Chapter 1

MJ Goodrich sprinted to the end of the mile long
driveway that edged her mother’s rural Oklahoma peach orchard, then ran in
place while waiting for her new friend Kelsey. Since tardiness was out of
character for Kelsey, a glimmer of concern flittered through MJ. Her palm
grazed the ugly scar on her abdomen, a nervous habit gained from a
life-altering injury.

Down the highway to her right, where she expected
to see Kelsey, mist blurred her mother’s orchard and the woodland beyond.

Did Kelsey leave without her?

She pivoted to the left to check their usual
route. The sight of an opaque wall of fog stopped her legs and tightened her
neck muscles. We could get lost in there.
Fall off the bridge into the creek. She shuddered, massaged the scar on her
abdomen, circled her head to loosen the muscles.

She hadn’t realized the town of Peach Blossom
experienced such unsettling weather when she moved from Phoenix last month.
Tornadoes, yes, but not impenetrable fog.

Her mother’s cellar promised protection from
tornadoes. This kind of fog was just… well, it felt like a colony of killer
bees swarmed inside her stomach. That reminded her to find someone to help move
the bees from the attic to the orchard to pollinate the trees rather than buzz
her awake every morning.

Another glimpse of the murkiness that obscured the
bridge increased her tension. Kneading the scar didn’t help, so she shifted
from worrying about fog and Africanized bees to stretching exercises. She’d
learned not to let her muscles seize up when she served in Afghanistan with the
Army Rangers a few years back, the worst and the best time of her life.

The thought almost had her grabbing the abdominal
scar again. Almost. She needed to break that habit now that she was making a
new life for herself.

With a deep breath, she stood tall on her right
leg—all five-feet-six-inches of her—and stiffened her core, placed her hands on
her hips, raised her left leg at a ninety-degree angle. “Rotate out,” her
physical therapist had instructed while she recovered at Walter Reed Hospital.
“Draw a circle in the air with your knee.”

Having repeated the exercise on both legs, still
without Kelsey, she moved on to lunging stretches with a side bend, her dark
ponytail slapping her face, wisps sticking to her lip balm. Engrossed in how
good it felt to stretch her hips, glutes, and hamstrings, she startled when
Kelsey stopped smack-dab in front of her and said, “Sorry I’m late.”

The woman’s red puffy eyes didn’t match her
chipper tone.

MJ recognized Kelsey’s clothes from her last trip
to Walmart: purple sports cap, a purple long sleeve top, and black capri
running pants with a purple stripe down the side. Kelsey always matched. Unlike
MJ, who straightened her orange running top over the phone wedged into the
waistband of her blue running capris.

Kelsey rolled her head before draping a manicured
hand on top to stretch her neck to the left, then to the right. “It’s been a
rough morning. Ghosts from days past.” She aimed her face upward and sniffed
the air, forcing a smile that showed even white teeth.

“I love Oklahoma, don’t you? Your mom’s orchard
smells so good.”

MJ grinned, her chest puffing with pride about her
mother’s business.

This could be an opportunity to find out where
Kelsey lived, giving MJ someone to visit occasionally. She tried yet again to
coax the info out of Kelsey. “It sure does. You’re not even a little out of
breath when you get here, so I assume you don’t live far. Can you smell it from
your house?”

“Nice try. Like I’ve said before, I don’t tell
people where I live.” Annoyance had sharpened Kelsey’s tone. “But since I’ve
been running this route ever since I arrived in Peach Blossom a few months ago,
the distance is easy for me. Having someone to run with is an answer to
prayer.”

MJ smiled but had to squelch the jealousy of God
answering someone else’s prayers when he couldn’t bother with hers.

With her first step to the left, MJ again grimaced
at the fog. She glanced at the less soupy air behind them and hoped she could
talk Kelsey into changing their usual route.

“You must be tired of going the same way every
day.” MJ tried to ease the anxiety in her voice. “What do you say about going
that way instead? There’s a dirt lane I’ve been wanting to explore.”

Something sparked in Kelsey’s eyes that looked as
uneasy as MJ felt. “I’ve been that way. Never, never again.” She took off
toward the bridge—and the stomach rumbling fog in their tiny farming community
outside Tahlequah, the home of the Cherokee Nation.

MJ hurried to catch up to her mysterious friend.
“What’s down there that you didn’t like?”

“Nothing I want to talk about.” Kelsey picked up
her pace.

They settled into a steady, if not rushed, rhythm
down the middle of the road since they heard no cars and rarely saw them that
early. MJ tried again for a more personal connection.

“Have you met any interesting men since you moved
here?”

Kelsey harrumphed. “I’ve met men, sure. I have no
interest, not because I don’t like men, but now isn’t the right time for a
relationship or dating. You?”

“Nah. I’ve stayed away from men since …” She
didn’t know how to describe what she’d been through or why no man would want
her, so she let the sentence hang. Her stint in Afghanistan had ended in
tragedy, followed by months of rehab at Walter Reed. Then she had fought for
her management spot in the good-old-boys network of a Phoenix bank. Relief had
washed over her when her sisters called to announce MJ was the best of the
three of them to move to Peach Blossom to help their mother operate her orchard
business.

“Since what?” Kelsey’s blond ponytail slapped her
prominent cheekbones when she swung her head toward MJ. Her striking green eyes
bore into MJ as she waited for an answer.

“Now who’s sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong?”
MJ interrupted the ensuing silence by apologizing. “That was rude. The truth
is, I don’t have time for men either. My mom is showing signs of dementia, so I
moved here to help handle her peach business, but I’m more of a gofer than a
manager. It isn’t a brilliant use for my MBA, but it’s better than what I was
doing.”

“Hmm.” Kelsey squinted ahead, returning MJ’s
attention to the approaching wall of fog and the possibility of falling off the
bridge.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go in there.” MJ’s shoulders
and gut tightened. She slowed her pace and grabbed Kelsey’s elbow to guide her
toward the grass beside the road. “I never saw fog like this in Arizona. Did
you experience it wherever you’re from?”

Kelsey shook her arm from MJ’s grasp. “I don’t
tell people where I’m from, but I’ve seen plenty of fog. If you’re not used to
it, I can see why it might scare you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stretched her
long legs and sprinted away.

MJ stopped, confused. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t
go.” Despite that, the reprieve eased the stiffness in her neck and shoulders.

Kelsey yelled over her shoulder as she disappeared
into the fog. “It’s okay. I’m in the mood to be alone with my thoughts. See you
tomorrow.”

“Don’t run in the middle of the road, okay?” An
image of the bridge flashed through her brain. “Stay on the grass.”

Kelsey shouted something that MJ didn’t
understand.

As she shifted toward the dirt path she’d
mentioned to Kelsey, a silver sedan passed, followed by a black tow truck.
Seconds later, brakes screeched, a woman screamed, and something crashed
against metal.

“Kelsey!” She ran toward the narrow bridge that
spanned Kingfisher Creek. “Please, God, don’t let anyone hurt her.” She
couldn’t fail another friend. “Please let her have switched to running on the
grass beside the road.”

Penetrating the fog, she lost her bearings and
tapped her foot to find the grassy area at the edge of the road. Stinky body
odor approached from behind. Bony hands clamped her arms like a cold vise and
dragged her across the pavement until her legs pumped in mid-air. The fingers
let go. Her body took a bumpy roll down a wet slope that knocked the air from
her lungs. Grass and pebbles tore her sleeves, skinned her elbows. She tasted
blood. Struggled to inhale. Landed in icy water from her knees down. When she
tried pushing up, her arms were too weak to hold her.

In the distance, Kelsey pleaded. “No, please. My
leg…” Something muffled her next words.

Blackness moved into the edges of MJ’s vision.
Far-off male voices echoed gibberish. She wanted to yell to Kelsey that
everything would be okay, but she knew nothing was okay.

* * *

“Hey.” It was a deep, silky voice. A warm hand
skimmed her back. The hems of bootcut jeans touched brown work boots stained
with oil. His joints popped as he kneeled beside MJ. When he leaned over her, a
blond curl tumbled to his forehead.

She rolled to her side and tried to press herself
up, but her arms still shook too much to hold her weight. As she collapsed, he
supported her while moving her legs out of the water.

“You okay?” He stood, offering both hands to help
her up, his smile revealing dimples and one crooked bottom tooth.

She grabbed his fingers, then remembered the
frigid grip that had shoved her off the road. Was this the guy who ran down
Kelsey? She tried to shift away from him, but the cold water had numbed her
knees. Despite her best effort to stand on her own, she fell against him.

“Did you hit Kelsey?” The world swirled around
her.

“What?” He wrapped his arms around her waist to
keep her from sinking back to the grass. His clothes, callouses, and strength
contradicted his art-gallery good looks with tousled hair and compassionate
sky-blue eyes.

His spicy citrus scent reminded her of something
she fought every day to forget, the scent that invaded her nightmares and
sparked flashbacks. The second she thought she could stand on her own, she
thanked him while twisting away and glancing up to see a pickup the color of
sand dunes, with an open door and exhaust coming from its tailpipe.

Not a black
pickup. Warm hands, not cold and bony. He isn’t the guy.

“We have to find my friend.” A stride forward
surged her with nausea. No way was she going to hurl in front of this cute
stranger. More than cute, but her mind was too fuzzy to think of a better word.
She braced her hands on her knees and sucked in deep breaths. “I think a car
hit my friend.”

He placed a hand on her back. “You might have a
concussion. Your head was on that rock over there.”

She followed his gesture, only then realizing that
the fog had lifted. “What time is it?” The face of her smartwatch had cracked
during her fall.

He removed his phone from a jeans pocket. “Seven
fifteen.”

She sent him a surprised look. “I’ve been here a
long time.”

He pinned her again with that compassionate,
blue-eyed gaze, shifting his eyebrows upward before creasing his forehead.
“What was that about your friend?”

“I think a car hit her. We were out for our daily
run. She disappeared into the fog, and I heard a wreck followed by her cries
and men’s voices.” She looked around. “Where am I?”

“Kingfisher Creek.”

She followed his peek at her legs. They were wet,
muddy, trembling.

He unzipped his sweatshirt, shrugged it off, and
draped it across her shoulders. “I stopped because…” He rubbed his furrowed
brows as if struggling for the right word, then lifted a shoulder and shook his
head. “Then I saw you and the crumpled railing, and I thought you were a deer
until I noticed your orange top.” He averted his eyes from her chest.

The scent of engine oil wafting from his
sweatshirt would have been okay, but the other thing infused in the fabric made
everything inside her tighten. Spicy citrus. Nope. She stood ramrod straight and handed it back to him, praying
the smell wouldn’t spark another flashback. The band fell from her ponytail.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine once I move again. We
need to find my friend.” She scanned the area and tested her stability before
crossing under the bridge and looking up at the bent guardrail the guy had
described. Her stiff knees allowed a limping trot up the hillside to inspect
it, the citrusy-smelling stranger close behind.

She clasped her hands on the crown of her head at
the sight of Kelsey’s purple sports cap upside down on the grass beside the
guardrail. Her throat constricted. She slumped forward and held onto the
guardrail to keep from falling onto the steel beam, dropping her eyes to within
an inch of blood spatter.

“Oh, no. Kelsey?” She straightened and rotated in
all directions, then walked along the curve that the guardrail protected. Skid
marks led to a twisted section of rail with a swatch of purple fabric wedged in
a crease.

She glanced back at the stranger, swinging her arm
toward the strip. “That’s the color of Kelsey’s running clothes.” MJ clasped
her abdomen and gulped in several deep breaths. The weight of guilt from
abandoning Kelsey earlier slumped her shoulders.

“We should get you to the health clinic.” His soft
focus held concern before it sparked of something that caused him to stand
straight and look away.

“I’m fine.” She gestured to fresh ruts in the mud
below the guardrail. “Someone pulled something up the embankment. The car that
hit Kelsey? A silver sedan drove past me, followed by a black pickup with one
of those things on the back.”

“Things?”

She rolled her hand to help her think of the word.
“Winch.” She ran down the path toward the creek, where a chrome bumper stopped
her. He followed as she kneeled to examine the blood spatter on the metal.

“I’ll keep looking while you call 911,” she said.

She closed her eyes and lifted a silent prayer for
Kelsey’s safety. When she dared to look, he stood watching with his phone to
his ear, waiting. Something about him seemed familiar.

But what did she detect in his stare? Concern?
Anger? Disbelief? A mixture of them all?

She couldn’t pry her attention away from those
blue eyes rimmed with thick lashes.