Enjoy the View

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  Then she let go and jumped.

  The first time River had tried a dynamic move, she’d landed flat on her butt. Now, they were her favorite. There was a moment during a dyno, when a climber let go of the safety of their hold, trusting that the momentum of their jump would take them to the next hold beyond their reach. To dyno was to trust oneself. Otherwise, flying became falling. River had learned young that when you fall off a horse, get right back on. A rock was no different, even if the fall hurt worse.

  “Gotcha,” she breathed, fingers finding their grip, legs dangling. Her right foot found a second grip parallel to her shoulder, her left hand crossed over her head to a hold above her right shoulder.

  Okay, maybe it was more like yoga than River wanted to admit.

  A few more feet and River hoisted herself over the top of the roadcut, where a natural shelf cut horizontal into the mountain. The result was the perfect ledge for her to stand on, one arm looped around a pine tree growing at an angle out of the cliffside. On a branch somewhere behind her, a pair of songbirds chirped and flirted with each other, ignoring the crunching of the red squirrel eating pine seeds a few trees away. She swore she could smell the distant ocean on the breeze.

  The sun never set at the top of the world. At least not in July. But as she stood on the shelf, sweat trickling between her shoulder blades and blood pumping, River raised her eyes higher in the sky. This was a new day, a new chance to find the elusive thing beyond her fingertips that chasing her dreams had never discovered. That single, integral part of herself that had always been missing.

  Taking her crew up Mount Veil was a risk, but like a dyno, when you jumped, you had to trust yourself. Every instinct in River’s body told her what she was looking for was there, up in those mountains. She didn’t want to climb Mount Veil; she had to. To prove to herself she could do this. To prove to herself that she didn’t stop being worthwhile because a bunch of Hollywood executives thought she was too old. The part of her soul that was drawn to climbing was calling her to Mount Veil, to find what she’d always been looking for. Whatever that was going to be…River knew it would be her missing piece.

  As the peaks in the distance slipped behind the morning’s cloud cover, it didn’t matter one bit that River couldn’t see her goal. She didn’t have to see it.

  Hope already burned through her veins.

  • • •

  One of these days, Easton was going to learn to knock before walking through Graham’s front door.

  “Oops, sorry,” he mumbled, sharing in the mutual embarrassment of the kitchen’s two occupants. “I brought breakfast.”

  It was a good breakfast too. Homemade breakfast burritos, the kind his father only made on special occasions. Or when Easton booked a well-paying climb up his favorite mountain.

  The Locketts were creatures of habit, and Easton was no exception. His natural inclination to do things the same way, the same speed, at the same time had served him well in his chosen profession. Alpine climbing wasn’t free soloing in Yosemite: dramatic and pulse racing as a climber clung to the side of a sheer drop-off hundreds of feet above the ground. No, to get to the top of a monster like Mount Veil, slow and steady won the race every time. Following good habits that kept him and his clients safe.

  But being a creature of habit sometimes meant walking into your friend’s kitchen first thing in the morning and accidentally interrupting. Good thing Graham always had a sense of humor about it, but this was starting to become routine. The house, the diner, behind Easton’s truck. At this point, he’d have to walk around with his hand over his eyes to preserve everyone’s dignity.

  The couple couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

  It would be annoying if Graham hadn’t been so stupidly happy with his fiancée. But Easton could have easily lived without walking in on the two of them going at it like teenagers again.

  “Am I going to have to start hanging a sock on the front door?” Graham joked while a flushed Zoey tried to rearrange her shirt in a semblance of order.

  “You knew I was coming by.” Easton had agreed to give Zoey a ride to work that morning. Her car needed new brake pads, and Graham was trying to get them installed before he opened his popular one-man diner, the Tourist Trap, for lunch. “At least put up a warning sign.”

  “Nah, it’s more fun when we might get caught.” Graham winked at his fiancée.

  Easton chuckled at the rueful expression on Zoey’s face. “If he bothers you too much, let me know.”

  Zoey flashed Graham a fond look. “He always bothers me, but I’ve learned to live with it.”

  “My best friend and my girl, ladies and gentlemen. I deserve better.”

  Actually, Graham was beyond lucky and he knew it. Easton had been present the night Zoey Caldwell walked into Graham’s diner a year ago. All it had taken was one shy hello, and Graham had been glued to her heels like a man in love ever since. The fact that she had decided to stay had been as unsurprising as it was relieving. Neither Easton nor Ash wanted to deal with a brokenhearted Graham. If he was a pain in the ass when happy, it was nothing compared to when he got his heart crushed.

  Graham was many things. Low maintenance wasn’t one of them.

  “What’s that expression for?” Graham asked, not bothering to adjust…or find…his own shirt.

  “How can you see an expression?” Zoey tilted her head. “All I see is beard.”

  “You watch the beard movement,” Graham explained. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. I’ll teach you Easton beard talk. It’s part of your coursework for becoming a full member of Moose Springs. You’ve been here a year, so you’re officially out of the probationary period.”

  “There are classes?” Zoey knelt, scratching Graham’s blind border collie, Jake, behind his floppy ears.

  “Oh yeah,” Graham continued cheerfully. “Tourist dodging, moose impersonating, the annual running of the naked bearded men…”

  “That’s a class?” She seemed horrified.

  “Ask Easton. I majored in tourist dodging, with a minor in telling them like it is. But you’ll have to pass your final in beard talk. Men have to keep their faces warm in Alaska, and if you can’t understand beard talk, you’re going to spend a lot of time confused. What if I grow one?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Are you planning on growing one?”

  “Depends if I feel like running naked.”

  They could go back and forth for hours, some bizarre aspect of their relationship both found utterly appealing. In their banter, it was entirely possible the two had completely forgotten his presence.

  Setting the bag of breakfast burritos on the table, Easton nodded at the woman who had made his friend so happy. “Good luck today. You still have that big group scheduled?”

  “Yep! Biggest so far. I can’t wait.”

  There wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in her enthusiastic statement. Zoey loved her job up at the resort. A former waitress, Zoey could have worked with Graham at his diner. But the sheer amount of joy she took from careening around in her tour bus, telling visitors all about the local flora and fauna was hard to resist. In her year in Moose Springs, she’d quickly become a favorite with the tourists.

  “Do I look okay?” she asked, nervousness clear. “The new summer shirts fit more snug than the winter ones.”

  A flash of consternation crossed Graham’s features, but he smoothed it away when Zoey turned to face him.

  Zoey Caldwell was a short, slender woman with eyeglasses sliding down her nose and bangs falling across her pretty face. Her monogrammed shirt was the same provided by Moose Springs Resort for all their staff, including their tour guides: a professional-looking collared button-down in royal blue.

  Going blue shirt in Moose Springs was a sign of shame. No one wanted to be reliant on the monstrosity clinging to their mountain. Easton was surprised that Zoey didn’t kn
ow most of the residents who worked at the hotel kept their shirts tucked out of sight until right before their shifts.

  Zoey always sported hers proudly.

  “You look perfect.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, Graham added, “I’d vote for adding a sweatshirt. It might get chilly out there this morning. You can steal that gray college one of mine if you want. I know you like it.”

  Beaming at him, Zoey hustled off, disappearing into Graham’s bedroom. Maybe Graham was capable of some form of emotional growth.

  “Subtle,” Easton said, because it wasn’t any chillier than it ever was in an Alaskan summer.

  “I’ll explain it to her eventually.” Graham sighed. “I haven’t had the heart to tell her.”

  “Are you sure she wouldn’t rather work with you at the Tourist Trap? You’re the mayor now. You have enough on your plate without running your diner alone.”

  Being forced to become the main political figurehead in Moose Springs hadn’t been Graham’s idea, and he’d sure whined enough since being railroaded into the job. But he was a natural leader and cared about his town, and they had been the better under Graham’s guidance.

  A broad grin spread across Graham’s face. “Buddy, the more you push me to hire help, the less inclined I am to do it. You know this, but still, you push.”

  “You’re going to have a heart attack from exhaustion before you turn thirty-five.”

  “Nag, nag, nag. Really, we need to find you something else to focus on.” Graham handed Easton a cup of coffee.

  “Did you make this or Zoey?” Easton asked warily.

  “Zoey. Yeah, yeah, I know. She’s better at everything than me, coffee included.” He took a sip from his mug, then sighed with contentment. “Life’s looking good from where I’m standing, East, old buddy.”

  “You’re annoying when you’re happy.”

  “That’s what Ash told me. Speaking of, I talked to her last night. She said you’re taking that film crew up Mount Veil?”

  He wasn’t surprised Ash had already spilled the beans. “Better than letting them poke around town much longer.”

  “Ash is worried.” Easton started to shrug, but Graham’s expression tightened. “Yeah, I know how she is about that mountain, but she may have a point on this one. Do they have the experience to get up there?”

  “Are you asking me if I know how to do my job?”

  Graham clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Nah, never that. I’m just saying this sounds like more of a pain than normal. Someone else’s pocketbook doesn’t sound like a good enough cause to risk your neck.”

  Easton didn’t love being on the side of out-of-towners, but he found himself defending River anyway.

  “Wouldn’t you rather them be out there, where most people wouldn’t want to come visit anyway? Peak baggers already know about Mount Veil. This is the least amount of damage. We’ll go up the mountain, take some nature shots, and come back down again. Then no one has to worry about it anymore.”

  Graham’s raised eyebrow was more than a little skeptical.

  “Dad gave his word that I’d guide the climb. I’m not embarrassing him by backing out now. Besides, after meeting her, she’s liable to head up there by herself, camera crew in tow.”

  They both shared a grimace. Graham wasn’t a mountaineer, but they both knew exactly how bad of an idea that was.

  Easton hadn’t been able to resist an internet search of his newest clients. He’d told himself it was for informational purposes only, but he’d found himself lingering on pictures of River taken by fans. Going into restaurants, making funny faces at her coworkers, even a few of her climbing indoor rock walls.

  Her technique was good if nothing else.

  Zoey returned to the kitchen, ready to go. Easton set his empty mug aside, then he tossed his keys to her.

  Tilting her head to the side in confusion, Zoey lifted the truck’s keys. “I’m driving?”

  “I’ll take you the long way, past some places you might want to take your tours.” Easton couldn’t resist adding, “Better to learn the backroads now. In a few months, there’s going to be several feet of snow and a lot of naked, bearded men on them.”

  • • •

  The top of the roadcut made a perfect place to relax for a while, taking in the town from a new point of view. Wiggling her toes in the cool morning air and munching the remains of a baggie of trail mix in her back pocket, River watched the employees of Moose Springs Resort driving to their workplace. In the distance, a partially finished luxury condominium project sat abandoned. The couple of condos that had been completed so far were as visually stunning as the Moose Springs Resort, with rich earth-toned paint palettes, lots of river rock stonework, and expensive log cabin siding. Considering the mountainside view those condos must have, River could imagine them selling easily…especially to some of the wealthier people she knew from the industry. A permanent vacation home in Moose Springs was perfect for those who loved to ski and fish or just be in this beautiful corner of the world.

  Unfortunately, the project must be on a hiatus. If she squinted, River could see piles of construction material just inside the gated entry.

  A familiar old truck went past with two figures inside, then a few minutes later returned, minus one occupant. The driver had good eyes. She was tucked out of the way up on her perch, but he still pulled over, walking to the base of the roadcut and peering up at her. One eyebrow rose, as if it were strange to find someone in her position.

  “Why am I not surprised the person dangling dangerously over the edge is you?” Easton’s rumble sounded amused.

  “I could claim that I walk on the wild side, but I really don’t want to hear Jessie snore anymore. Bree’s the dangerous one though. She almost took my eye out with her elbow.”

  The eyebrow rose further. “You’re sleeping in your rental car?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, nosy, but we’re sleeping in our rental car. Haven’t you heard of the concept of a starving artist?”

  “I didn’t realize film stars made a habit of going hungry,” he replied with a low chuckle. At her own raised eyebrow, Easton added, “I figured it out after I learned your name.”

  River breathed out a laugh, relaxing back. “Well, I’m behind the camera now. Mostly. We’ll see if the dining options become fewer and further in between.”

  Easton wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever seen in the morning. In fact, he was pretty high up on the list of the best. He’d traded the dark T-shirt of yesterday with a white cotton one stretching across his chest, snug on his forearms and loose around his muscled waist. Another pair of worn jeans and those boots that told everyone he met he worked physically for a living.

  The man bun was nice and tidy. The beard made her want to run her fingers through it. But they’d only met, and, well…beard stroking seemed like the kind of thing two people did when they were better acquainted. And maybe had candles lit for beard-stroking ambiance.

  “Want to join me? There’s room for two.” River patted the rock beside her.

  “You make a habit of climbing roadcuts?” he asked her.

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “But it was either this or commit unspeakable crimes to my DP.”

  “DP?”

  “Jessie. Director of photography. He who snores to the point that relatively sane women want to murder him.”

  It was hard to see from way up there, but River was fairly certain one corner of the beard twitched. Kicking off his boots and peeling off his socks, Easton glanced at the roadcut above him, then chose his own handhold. She hadn’t expected him to actually join her, invitation or not.

  When it came to climbing, River knew her own skills. Still…watching Easton free solo was akin to watching a Kentucky Derby winner walking through a miniature horse pen at a petting zoo.

  Easton didn’t cli
mb the rock. He flowed over it.

  “Someone’s a stud,” River teased as she watched him climb, popping a peanut in her mouth. “You should charge people to watch you do that.”

  Okay, so maybe she was flirting. River couldn’t help it. When his forehead turned all flushed in embarrassment and surprise, he was kind of adorable.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you without a pizza box in your hand.”

  “Thanks for that.” Could his rumbling voice be any sexier? Easton hoisted himself over the ledge with one hand, where River had needed two.

  Settling in next to her required his hip to brush against hers, his torso angled so his broad shoulders didn’t force her into a dangerous sideways tilt. His hand was braced behind her hip, so close, all she had to do was lean a little.

  Funny. She’d always liked a man with a handsome face. This man’s face was covered with at least an inch and a half of thick dark-brown beard, so there was no way to know what he looked like beneath it all.

  Easton had really pretty eyes though, and when she offered him access to her trail mix bag, he accepted as if they were old friends.

  As nice as his eyes were, his voice was even better.

  “My sister wants to have that pizza box framed. She’s the one I was with when you paid me for my goods and services. Speaking of which…” He dug into his back pocket. “Here.”

  When Easton flapped the twenty-dollar bill at her, River shook her head. “You earned that fair and square. And your sister is gorgeous.”

  “She’s a brat. We’re twins.”

  “You’re kidding.” River couldn’t believe it.

  “Nope. Take the money back. I don’t want it.”

  “Sorry, I’m busy enjoying my morning. More trail mix?”

  This time, she poured some in his palm. Easton dumped the whole handful in his mouth and swallowed without choking, the second impressive thing he’d done that morning.

  Eyeing her powder-free hands and bare toes, Easton shook his head. “I’d have gone with shoes. The last thing you want is a sliced heel right now.”