An Excerpt from Haven Hill Here’s where the story left off last time. Morning light seeped through the curtains in thin, watery bands. It made the cabin look gentler than it had any right to, given the current situation. Kate stood at the kitchen window, not in front of it, but angled sideways, careful of her silhouette. She watched the fog rise off the yard. For her coffee, she had chosen a purple mug that said, I came. I saw. I forgot what I was doing in a script that looked handwritten. “It looks so… normal,” Ariel said quietly, coming up beside her with her blanket still around her shoulders. Kate nodded, though her chest stayed tight. “Normal’s a tricky thing. It fools you.” Ariel yawned and shuffled to the stove. “Can I please have coffee, too?” Kate hesitated. Normally, she didn’t let Ariel drink a full cup of coffee—just a sip here and there of her mother’s. She was inclined to say yes today, but her thoughts scattered because of where Ariel stood while making the request. She was right in front of the window, where her silhouette might be clear to someone outside. The idea of her daughter standing near a window—even for a second, much less directly in front of one—made Kate’s skin crawl. But normalcy mattered. Small rituals mattered. They steadied the hands. “Yeah,” Kate said softly. “That sounds nice. You can join me for a cup.” Ariel busied herself pouring coffee from the pot into a mug, adding cream, then sugar, doing everything carefully, almost ceremonially, as if making coffee could anchor the world in place. Kate did another sweep of the cabin exterior, peeking through the windows. The tripwire bells looked untouched. The teal rocking chair sat still in its corner, now in the proper position overlooking the forest as Kate had placed it the day before. No fresh footprints were obvious. No shadows moved between the trees. “So… what now?” Ariel asked tentatively over the rim of her yellow mug. “We can’t just stay here like this forever.” Kate leaned her palms on the counter. “We’ll figure something out. But for now, we breathe. And we stay alert.” Ariel poured two mugs and slid one across the counter toward her mother. She tried for a smile, saying hopefully, “Maybe he really did leave.” Kate didn’t answer. She didn’t want to destroy that small bit of optimism, but she also didn’t want to lie. Instead, she lifted the curtain one more inch and scanned the driveway, as she had a dozen times already. Empty. “He’s gone,” Ariel said again, more hopeful now. Kate took a slow sip of coffee. Maybe, she thought, without conviction. “Maybe,” she said aloud, in a tone more cheerful than she felt. A deep quiet had settled over the mountain, too quiet, almost painted-on quiet. A quiet that made Kate’s instincts twitch. Then she heard it. The crunch of tires on gravel. Slow. Heavy. Unfamiliar. Ariel straightened so fast her mug clinked against the counter. Kate’s stomach dropped. They weren’t expecting anyone. No one knew they were here. She grabbed her firearm, and Ariel followed suit. Kate moved to the living room window, expecting to see Logan’s truck pulling in just to mock them. She was stunned when, instead, a sheriff’s SUV rolled into view, half-fogged headlights cutting through the trees. Ariel whispered, “Mom… is that for real?” Kate’s voice was barely audible. “I don’t know yet.” She hardly dared to hope. The SUV rolled to a slow stop at the top of the driveway, tires cracking over frost-stiff gravel. A door creaked open. Kate and Ariel both ducked low. A silhouette moved past the headlights—broad shoulders, uniform jacket, hat. He paused to look up at the cabin, hands planted on his duty belt, stance casual. Too casual for Kate’s liking. He didn’t seem urgent or alarmed. That bothered her. He should have shown more tension if he knew a crime was being committed, especially if Mr. Slocum’s body had been discovered. “Mom…?” Ariel whispered again. Kate’s heartbeat thudded in her ears. She tried to sort through her instincts—years of them, sharpened by experience and regret and survival. Something about this felt off. Not wrong. Just… misaligned. Kate watched from beside the window as the sheriff (Was he really the sheriff? Was she crazy for wondering that? she pondered) started up the path toward the porch, boots crunching softly. He moved at an easy pace, as though approaching a home where nothing bad ever happened, where no one was hunted through the forest by a man with a knife and a grudge. Kate motioned for Ariel to get behind the fridge. Ariel nodded once and slipped silently into her hiding place. Kate stayed angled away from the window as the knock came—firm, polite, measured. Not frantic. Not desperate. Just… neighborly. A pause. Then a voice, muffled through the door. “Sheriff’s Department. Anyone home?” Kate pressed her back against the wall near the door, gun held low but ready. Her pulse hammered. Was she being paranoid? Yes, she told herself unconvincingly. Still, something prickled at the base of her skull—the same sensation she’d felt in the woods when she realized Logan was circling her trail rather than running from her. “Should we answer?” Ariel whispered. “No,” Kate mouthed. “Not yet.” The sheriff knocked again, a little louder but still without urgency. “Anybody home? I’ve been trying to reach the occupants here. We’ve been asked to make a notification. I’m here to make sure you’re all right.” Kate’s gut twisted. Her voice nearly cracked with relief. Maybe. Maybe this was finally help. She took a slow breath to steady herself and called through the door, “Identify yourself, please.” The sheriff stepped back a bit, posture shifting as though to give her space. “Deputy Collins, ma’am. Henderson County Sheriff’s Office.” His tone was calm, practiced. “I’d be obliged if you opened the door. Just need to make sure you’re safe.” Kate hesitated only a second longer. He used the word obliged. Old-fashioned. Polite. The kind of thing a real mountain deputy might say. She flicked her gaze toward the front window, catching a glimpse of the vehicle again. It boasted real plates, real markings, and an intact light bar. Not a trap. Not Logan’s beat-up truck. Her shoulders relaxed, and she pulled the curtain aside. “It’ll just take me a minute,” she called, then began to push the big armoire out of the way. She unlatched the top lock. Ariel’s breath hitched audibly behind her. Kate reached for the bottom lock, feeling something in her chest unclench for the first time in days. Hope. She opened the door just enough to see the deputy—and let him see her. And that’s when she saw it. Beyond the deputy’s shoulder, a figure stepped into view from behind the SUV. Tall. Lean. Familiar as a recurring bad dream. Logan. Her face froze into something that had once been a smile. He lifted two fingers to his forehead in a mocking little salute. Kate swallowed a gasp and stepped back a fraction, the breath punched out of her. He wasn’t rushing the porch. He wasn’t charging the door. He was waiting. Waiting for her to open it. Because the sheriff wasn’t in danger yet. But he would be. Kate’s voice cracked as she screamed, “Behind you!” Don’t want to wait two weeks to find out what happens? Buy the complete book HERE. There are 39 chapters and an epilogue! About Daisy Daisy Luther is a coffee-swigging author and blogger who’s traded her air miles for a screen porch, having embraced a more homebody lifestyle after a serious injury. She’s the heart and mind behind The Organic Prepper, a top-tier website where she shares what she’s learned about preparedness, self-reliance, and the pursuit of liberty. With 17 books under her belt, Daisy’s insights on living frugally, surviving tough times, finding some happiness in the most difficult situations, and embracing independence have touched many lives. Her work doesn’t just stay on her site; it’s shared far and wide across alternative media, making her a familiar voice in the community. Known for her adventurous spirit, she’s lived in five different countries and raised two wonderful daughters as a single mom. Now living in the beautiful state of North Carolina, Daisy has been sharing her knowledge through blogging for 15 years.  She is the best-selling author of 5 traditionally published books, 12 self-published books, and runs a small digital publishing company with PDF guides, printables, and courses at SelfRelianceand Survival.com You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest, and X. The post Haven Hill: Chapter 31 appeared first on The Organic Prepper.