“You don’t do this year-round, right? Taking people out climbing is seasonal, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately.” Easton shrugged. “I teach indoor climbing when the weather turns colder. Plus, my sister runs supplies in the area in her helicopter. She’s busier in winter, so Dad and I help. Ash is the one flying us to the mountain. ”

“In her helicopter. Your sister is so cool.”

“My sister is terrifying.”

“You don’t look like the type to be frightened of much. Only women, huh?”

Easton caught her eye. “You’d have loved my mother. She was almost as tough as you. I’d rather climb Everest naked than tick her off.”

“That’s an image,” River murmured, her eyes flickering across his shoulders. “Have you ever been to Everest? With your clothes on?”

“Nope.” He let that hang between them to make her grin, then he added, “But damn, do I want to go.”

“Maybe that’s what I’ll do.” River tilted her head in consideration. “Go around the world and film mountain climbs.”

“I hope you’ve got some money put away,” Easton said. “I’ve been saving for years to get to Nepal by myself. Taking three people up there, plus the cost of getting the equipment up—” Midsentence, Easton stopped. “Hey, speaking of, I need to see the film equipment.”

A hand flap was all he received. “It’s fine. We’ve been hauling it everywhere. You don’t have to worry. It’s not very much weight.”

“You’re paying me to worry, River,” he reminded her. For some reason, he liked the way her name felt on his tongue. Clearing his throat, Easton turned back to his inspections.

Easton already knew River was a competent climber based on how she had organized her pack. She had no issues with her gear, and she seemed in good enough shape for the climb.

“How many fourteeners have you done?”

“Only Rainier.” Upon seeing his frown, River frowned in return. “Why? Is that a problem?”

“The Old Man might not be as tall as Everest or the rest of those monsters, but he’s got more than a few tricks up his sleeve. If you don’t respect him, he’s not going to give you a pass.”

“Isn’t that why we hired you? Aren’t you supposed to be the best?”

The challenge in her question pricked at his pride, and Easton raised his eyes to hers. She wasn’t wrong. If anyone knew these mountains, it was Easton. Mountaineering had been in his family for multiple generations. Mount Veil wasn’t only his paycheck. It was his way of life.

“I’ll do my job up there,” Easton told her, holding River’s gaze. “But I can’t carry three climbers on my back if things go wrong.”

“Things won’t go wrong.” River’s confident smile could take down anyone within a five-mile radius.

“So why are you making the documentary? Other than the tourism board asking you to do it?”

“Two years ago, the best part I’ve ever seen in my life was dropped in my lap. The script was terrible, but the part…” Expression dreamy, River settled down on the grass next to him. “The part was amazing. It was a historical film, set in the early 1900s. It was about early women mountaineers. I already liked to climb, so I fought for the part.”

“What movie is it?” Easton was deeply attracted to strong women, and the idea of a movie about a group of them doing something he loved was right up his alley.

River’s dreamy expression turned fierce. “It’s not. The project got axed before the first scene was filmed. Back to a stack of terrible roles that want all my clothes off. I don’t mind a love scene, but what’s been offered has been gratuitous garbage or a joke. I didn’t work this hard to learn my craft to go down like that.”

“So you decided to…I don’t know the right word for it. Be the film person?”

“Directing,” River supplied for him. “Producing. And don’t get me started on that. The industry is terrible about letting women behind the camera. After two years of fighting, the Moose Springs documentary was the first job I’ve been offered.”

“So now you’re here.”

“I’m here, and with your help, we’re going to make the most amazing documentary about the most amazing place, Easton. And it will matter. What we’re doing now matters. My time and talent will not be wasted on shower scenes in bad horror movies.”

Something told him that was what River was chasing, as much as the summit.

“To be honest, I can’t imagine you not getting the parts you want. When I was looking up everyone last night, I kept running into phrases like ‘magnetic’ and ‘America’s sweetheart.’” Her snort was so indelicate, Easton couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not your choice of words?”

“My publicist’s choice of words. She gets paid very well.”

Easton glanced toward the direction of the mountain in question, hidden behind the closer peaks in the range. “Are you sure you want to do this, River? Veil’s a hard climb. People have died up there.”

“I’m not afraid.”

He shifted on the grass, resting his arms on his knees. “I am. You should always be a little afraid of what the mountains are capable of doing. We’re nothing to them, a speck on the ground. A flea trying to hop to the top of a man’s head.”

“Some men are taller than others, cowboy. Harder to hop up.” River shot him a grin, and Easton found himself returning it.

“What?” she asked.

“I like your accent,” he told her. “It only comes out when you feel strongly about something.”

They fell quiet, the silence between them awkward. But when Easton looked over, River was gazing at him, her expression unreadable.

“Hey, Easton? Did you want to…I don’t know…do something after this? Get a drink?”

He hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say. Yes, because…well…yes. And no, because…definitely no. But probably yes.

“I’m not trying to get you drunk,” she said, rolling her eyes in playful exasperation. “Can you even get drunk?”

“Not that I’ve noticed so far.”

“Is that a no?”

“No. If you get your friends here before the day runs out, I might even give you a yes.”

Had he agreed to a date? Or drinks between two traveling companions? Easton didn’t know, and the proximity to her wasn’t helping clear his head. Putting distance between them was probably a good idea.