“I’m looking for my phone so I can report him. There has to be a jackass cop hotline for this county.”
With a chuckle, he shook his head. “I hate to break it to you, but they don’t tend to staff that too.”
“I hate your sandwich.”
Never had anyone said anything that random to him, and Easton had been on the top of Denali with people suffering from high altitude cerebral edemas.
“This one?”
“Yes.”
In that moment, Easton could have done a lot of things. Run screaming was one. Pump up his tire was another. Instead, he unwrapped the paper from his sandwich and offered half to her.
“Don’t hate the sandwich, hate the poor schmuck who had to be on the receiving end of your bad day.”
River sighed and gave up, slouching against the truck next to him. She accepted the sandwich.
“Bologna on wheat?” She peered down at the offering critically before taking a bite. “Dry? What kind of a monster are you?”
“Never really cared much for mustard.”
For some reason, that bit of information made her whole face shift away from frustration. And damn if she wasn’t even more beautiful when she smiled. “So why are you here? Did Mayoface ruin your day too?”
“There’s a poker game tonight. I was going to invite him. And I wanted to see how he got the moose out of the swing set.”
River swallowed her bite, then took another. “Isn’t that something you could have done through a text or a phone call?” she said between mouthfuls.
“Yeah, but I knew he’d be here. Not hard to find someone in a town this small.”
Okay, so maybe he was teasing her. It was kind of hard not to. Easton deserved the eye roll she aimed at him. “Har har.”
He took another bite. “They won’t let you film in town, River. It’s kind of our policy.”
“Whose policy? From what I can tell, no one is actually in charge around here.”
“Oh, Graham’s in charge. He’s just really good at pretending otherwise.”
“Any idea where I can find this Graham?” He wasn’t going to answer, and she must have known, because River snorted. “Of course not. He’s in hiding. Well, they can’t stop me if they don’t see me. What will they do? Have someone follow us around to tattle?”
When he didn’t immediately answer, those stunning blue eyes turned to him, narrowing. Easton held a hand up innocently. “Nope, not me. Do I look like the kind of guy who can sneak around?”
“You could be sneakier than you appear.” River finished her half of the sandwich. “Well, I’m not giving up. Sorry, Moose Springs.”
“Feel free to try, but you won’t get anything for your trouble other than escorted to the county line. By the way, I said they wouldn’t let you film in town,” Easton told her. “But there’s a lot out there worth filming.”
When Easton jutted his chin toward the mountains surrounding them, she looked, then kept looking. A speculative expression crossed her features.
She turned, taking in the mountains around them. “Most of the people who come here do so for the skiing, right?”
He nodded.
“You know what, Easton Lockett? You might have earned yourself another twenty bucks.”
Easton barked out a laugh. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, scratching a number on it. “Here. Call this number. This expedition company is based out of Anchorage. They’ll take you and your people around to the spots worth seeing.”
She pocketed the number with a murmured thanks. “Hey, Easton? Sorry I accused you of being an evil mastermind and for kicking your tire. And thanks for the awful sandwich. I was getting hungry.”
He winked at her in reply. “No worries. And, River?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t bother with Moose Springs. We’re really not worth the trouble.”
• • •
So far, he’d doubled the money he’d made that day by playing poker that night. Which meant Easton’s sister felt obliged to take it all in one fell swoop.
It wasn’t ideal to play with only the three of them—Easton, Ash, and Rick Harding—but Graham was having a hard time making it to game nights lately. The “break” he was on wasn’t so much of a break as Jonah had implied. Easton had seen the amount of paperwork stacked in Graham’s place.
“Bring Zoey next time,” Easton suggested to his sister as Rick dealt out the next hand. “We could use some fresh blood.”
They’d gathered at one of the tables near the bar, in case Rick needed to help a customer. Currently, the pool hall was empty, even though it was open. If someone wanted to come in, no one was stopping them, least of all Rick. But in the meantime, there were cards to play. Money to lose. And in Ash’s case, money to take.
“If I bring Zoey,” Ash said, “she and Graham will spend the whole time making googly eyes at each other. At least Rick and Lana can maintain a semblance of decorum. Usually.”
Rick chuckled at her comment. “Lana’s been gone for almost two weeks. My decorum was officially shot days ago.”
“Eww.” Ash made a face. “I didn’t need to know that.”
Rick had been dating the socialite turned Moose Springs property owner since Christmas, and from what Easton could tell, the two were getting serious, fast. Rick had an almost constant smile on his face these days, especially since Lana had agreed to pack up her longtime suite at the resort and move in with him.
The massive condominiums next to the resort were Lana’s…or technically, they belonged to the company her family owned. No one really wanted the condos there, bringing in a more permanent type of tourism, but Easton understood Lana’s reasoning behind them. Both Lana and Graham wanted the best for Moose Springs, even if they were at odds as to what that meant. Trying to enforce restrictions on Lana’s condos took up the bulk of Graham’s focus these days…and the bulk of all that paperwork.
Even though Lana had set up her permanent office out of Moose Springs, she still traveled a lot for work. Rick was a homebody, although he’d accompanied her a few times overseas. Easton didn’t know how they managed to make the separation work, but every time they were together, it was clear both were incredibly happy.
Happy was good. Not being lonely was even better. Easton wasn’t lonely. But he wasn’t sure he was all that happy either. Lately, he’d felt like something was missing. Something more than a game of cards with friends could fix.
“Why isn’t Jonah here?” Ash nodded her chin to Rick. “Two cards.”
She was as easy to read as a book…at least to Easton anyway. Ash loved to win, and her entire body showed her hand, from the upright posture to the tiny smirk that tugged the corner of her lips.
“Something made his day worse for the wear.” Easton couldn’t help the humor in his voice.
“Sounds like the men in town met their match today, pizza boy.”
Easton rolled his eyes at the newest nickname she’d found for him that evening. Ash had tried several on for size. “I liked ‘traffic cone’ better,” he said.
Unlike his sister, Easton’s cards were crap, but he didn’t fold. Rick’s eye kept drifting down to his hand, then sliding away, a tell—if a subtle one. Easton wasn’t going to give his money away, but it was hard not to stay in an extra round for the guy. Just because Rick was in a relationship with Lana didn’t mean he was well-off. The pool hall wasn’t making ends meet and hadn’t for a long time now. One day, Rick would open to tourists, but that day wasn’t there yet. He was pretty certain Rick lived off cereal and sheer grit.
“Two pairs.” Rick laid down his cards.
“I’ve got nothing.” Dropping his hand on the table, Easton leaned backward with a grunt.
“Three aces. Read ’em and weep, boys.” Sweeping the chips over to her side of the table, Ash gloated, “One of thes
e days, you’ll learn not to play with the master.”
“One of these days, you’ll learn to win without rubbing it in.”
She made a face at him, the same face she’d been making behind their parents’ backs since they were toddlers. Since no one was looking, Easton indulged himself in the same, adding a tongue sticking out. Hearing his twin’s peal of laughter was totally worth whatever lack of dignity his already-bruised pride had suffered today at the hands of a stranger.
“Hey, Easton,” Rick said in his quiet voice. “You know anything about this film crew that’s running around up here?”
“Not as much as he’s about to.” Ash was almost singsonging.
She looked so happy, Easton was immediately suspicious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ash smirked at him, pulling a file folder out of her bag. “Dad wanted me to give you this. A job came through, passed on to us by referral. They didn’t want to step on your turf. Here’s the paperwork. Three climbers want you to take them up Mount Veil. They don’t have a lot of experience, but Dad accepted the job. You know how he is when people want to see his baby.”
Mount Veil. At just over fifteen thousand feet, it wasn’t the tallest or the most popular climb in Alaska. But the “fourteener”—any mountain over fourteen thousand feet—was worthy of any peak bagger’s list, especially those with the guts to go into the Veil. No camera crew had ever gone up Mount Veil. It would be worth seeing…and worth filming.
A chill of dread ran down his spine, the kind that only happened when a redhead was involved. He knew who he’d see before even opening the folder. Sure enough, a familiar face peered up at him, in the most professional headshot any of his clients had ever sent before a climb.
Son of a…sandwich eater.
Of course, it was River Lane.
Chapter 3
If Jessie didn’t stop snoring, River was going to throttle him with his seat belt.
She’d do it nice and slow too.
River wasn’t above sleeping in a car. She’d spent six months living in hers after the money she’d taken to LA had run out. Back then, she’d been too ashamed to tell her family how broke she’d become. There was something circuitous about ending up back in a car tonight, at the start of a new career that so far was not going to plan.
Parked in an employee overflow parking lot on the far end of the Moose Springs Resort’s property, River figured they’d have to move the next night. Someone would eventually notice they were parked out there instead of in the main lot with the rest of the guests, even if the closely encroaching forest made them harder to see from the road. The benefit was the sheer amount of wildlife moving around the parking lot, as if it weren’t a big deal for deer to nibble grasses a few feet away from their vehicle or a raccoon to spend all night trying to get into the bear-proof trash bin across the lot.
Their B-roll was getting better by the minute.
As uncomfortable as the car was, at least it was a roof over their heads. They’d moved the bulk of the equipment to the floorboards and strapped the suitcases to the top of the vehicle, giving Bree and Jessie each a seat to stretch out on to sleep. Since River had gotten them into this mess, she’d offered to sleep in the back, wedged between a tripod and the rear door.
River had grown up sleeping on a bedroll beneath the stars, three days’ ride from home and surrounded by cowboys. She was no stranger to annoying nocturnal guttural noises: snores, snorts, or worse. But there was something particularly awful about the combination of Jessie’s ear-shattering version of sleep apnea and Bree changing positions with a car-wobbling dramatic flop. Every. Single. Minute.
“I’m going to kill them,” she whispered to the Subaru, which must have been in as much pain as she was.
A wet guttural rattle from Jessie reminded her the seat belt wasn’t that far out of reach.
River was used to being in close quarters with the pair. Still, the SUV reminded her of a coffin, squeezing the life out of her with every snort and whack of Bree’s elbow into the seat back. Yep, lack of sleep or not, she was done.
Escaping the vehicle through the back hatch door, River resisted letting the door close with a loud thump.
Freed of her confines, River could finally take a deep breath, relaxing and appreciating the scenery around her. The sun never set this time of year, but within the shadow of the mountain range, they’d managed to sleep in a semblance of darkness. Now, as dawn approached, the dark grays and hazy blues of night had lightened, the sun rising higher in the sky. She had plenty of natural light to make her way across the parking lot and down to the road.
Yesterday had been tough, but things were looking better. They’d regrouped and decided to take Easton’s advice to film outside town. The guide service he’d suggested had been booked, but they’d been referred to someone else closer to Moose Springs. A local.
She really hoped this one was more welcoming then the ones they’d encountered so far.
After some research, they’d learned that Mount Veil was the most impressive and exciting geological location near Moose Springs. Something worth making a documentary about, something that could bring more attention to the town. Few people climbed it, but those who did all came down saying the experience had been amazing. And it was either that or film River walking along the road some more. Since River loved to climb, this documentary was exactly up her alley. Bree was instantly on board, but it had taken some convincing to get Jessie to agree to filming on a mountain.
He liked climbing, but he’d never summited a fourteener before.
“Not like we have a choice,” River said to herself, rolling her shoulders to try to ease the strain of the last few days.
She was standing on the precipice of one more failed project, and River wasn’t sure her career could survive much more. Standing there, worrying herself into a stomach ulcer wasn’t going to help anything. Muscles aching to be used, River considered going for a run. But with Mount Veil fresh in her mind, what she really wanted to do was climb. Climbing had always been a source of stress release for her. When things got too tough, River would head for the hills…literally. She’d always been able to find a calmness when climbing that no other form of exercise could match.
Maybe it was the fact that with each grip, each movement, she knew that some progress had been made. A set goal was clearly achieved. Unless she fell. And even falling—as much as it hurt—was better than standing still, doing nothing.
At least River would know she’d tried.
The parking lot turnoff was still in sight, if barely, by the time River found what she was looking for. It was only a roadcut, but the rock face was smooth and slick, a challenge worth tackling. The cold, hard granite beneath her fingertips had yet to weather into the soft, crumbling surface that left so many roadcuts too dangerous for climbing. This road was new, probably cut into the mountainside to build a backroad access to the resort during construction. River had done her research and knew the Moose Springs Resort had been around for almost twenty-five years.
Twenty-five years young…younger than her.
“Hollywood is the only place where almost thirty makes someone feel old,” River grumbled to herself, kicking off her shoes and socks. “And I am so over it.”
Ever since River had started actively climbing—about the time she realized that calming activities like yoga or meditation were not her thing—she’d started carrying a pair of tight climbing shoes and a bag of chalk with her when she went places. She never knew when a chance to climb would come up, even if it was only pulling off the side of the road or playing around on some boulders between film shoots. Unfortunately, she’d left both shoes and chalk with the rest of her gear, and there was no way she was returning and risking waking her crew. Early morning or not, if they knew what River had planned, they’d insist on filming her. But right now, there was no one watching. No cameras turned on
her, no expression forced on her face. Just the rock.
A challenge, only for her.
Free-climbing wasn’t as safe as climbing with a harness and ropes, and she was taking a risk by not using chalk for her hands. It was the chalk more than the shoes that made her pause.
“You have no business on Mount Veil if you can’t handle a twenty-foot roadcut,” River reminded herself, setting her fingers into the first hold.
There had been a moment on her first solo climb when every muscle in her body had reacted in fear, freezing up. The result was her instructor having to talk her down and a solid twenty minutes of shaking like a leaf when her feet finally found the ground. River never forgot that feeling. Each time she started a climb, easy or tough, she remembered that fear, embracing it and using it to drive her upward.
The roadcut was more challenging than River had expected, nearly vertical with fewer holds the higher she went. Pausing to think about where she was going next, River considered two paths, one angling to the right and one nearly straight up to the top. The straight to the top route would be quicker, but River wasn’t looking for quick. She wanted to feel the strain in her arms and shoulders, to tax her back, thighs, and calves.
They had a long day of filming ahead of them, and River refused to cheat herself out of a moment of relaxation now.
A tiny breath of surprise escaped her lips as River’s hand slipped. For a moment, she hung there, two stories off the ground, by the fingertips of her left hand. Years ago, it would have scared her, but today, she simply enjoyed the stretch on her arm, loosening the tension in her shoulders as she dangled. Then River hauled herself upward with the strength of her bicep, her free hand and toes finding purchase in the rock. Resting her weight on her toes took the strain off her arms as she peered up. The top of the rock face was within sight, but the holds were harder to find, and the next one would require a dyno to reach.
“Sorry, Jessie.” She inhaled a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I know you would have loved to film this. But I’m allowed a me moment.”
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