Snickering, Bree shook her head. “Liar.”

“Or maybe he’s superhot,” River joked. “And I can’t keep from throwing myself at him when everyone’s back is turned.”

“That sounds a lot more realistic.”

Growing serious, River started to help take down the equipment. “Listen, it really isn’t anything. Don’t worry. My focus is completely on the film.”

“Are we ignoring the mountain-sized elephant in the room?” Jessie took the tripod out of River’s hands. He had never trusted her to mess with the gear. “I researched the stats last night. People have to be rescued off Denali all the time, but Mount Veil is something else. Are we sure we’re ready for this?”

“I’m ready for it.” Rising to her feet, Bree pushed a case at him. “And if you’re going to panic up there, you’d better say something now.”

“I’m not panicking. I’m saying it’s a scary climb. Climber for climber, the mortality rate for the Old Man—” Jessie stopped, making a face. “He’s got me saying it now. The mortality rate for Mount Veil is the worst in the state. It’s not dangerous. It’s stupid dangerous.”

“What else can we do? We’re basically banished from town,” River reminded them. “We can’t have a whole movie with Ruby Lou talking to the camera. I’m willing to listen if you have any better ideas, but I’m all out.”

Silence met her comment. None of them had any better ideas. She didn’t want Jessie to be worried, so she patted him on the shoulder. “We have Easton. He’s been up there plenty of times.”

“Do you think he’s as good as the online reviews say?”

River looked through the window where the mountaineer in question was helping his grandmother into the back seat of a car. Looking good in jeans and a towel was nice, but what she needed from him was a lot more important. Her career depended on it.

“I sure hope so.”

• • •

As she waited for her crew to pack up, River headed out to the porch, taking in the homestead.

The word didn’t accurately describe how immaculate the grounds were, with every stack of firewood and piece of equipment carefully organized and set in its designated space. Next to an old but meticulously maintained hay shed was a small horse paddock. Behind it was a modest livestock barn with a low-hanging metal roof. Nothing like the thirty-stall stables back at the ranch, but the three animals grazing in the paddock were as close to home as River had been in a long time.

Too long.

Since no one seemed to be needing her, River slipped off the porch and across the drive. Of the three horses searching through the dirt for the last remaining bits of hay, a gray gelding was feeling friendlier than the others, coming over to say hello.

“Hey there, handsome.” Scratching the gelding beneath the chin earned him leaning into the fence, looking for more.

“He likes you.”

The man was quiet for having so much weight on those two feet. When Easton joined her at the fence, leaning on his elbows, it occurred to River that the top of her head barely came to his shoulder. She wasn’t used to feeling short around anyone and certainly not around someone who had an annoying ability to not let her take charge of things.

“Your grandmother is incredible,” River told him.

He nodded in agreement. “Yep. You wouldn’t believe how good her pot roast is.”

River glanced over at the house where Bree and Jessie were in deep discussion on the porch. “Easton, thank you again. This is going to be amazing footage. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

He was quiet for long enough, River wasn’t sure he was going to answer. Finally, he spoke, his voice pitched quiet. “When you live in a place like this, you get a lot of strangers showing up, putting their handprints on everything. Family is one thing you don’t let anyone put their hands on.”

“When you have a daughter, she’s never going to get a date, is she?”

“Probably not.” Resting a loose fist on the porch railing, Easton added fondly, “Grandma says she’s going to tell everyone about the documentary and have the whole nursing home watch it when it comes out.” Warm brown eyes found hers. “Be kind to her when you edit it. This means more than you realize.”

“I will.”

Overly aware of his arm near hers, the gum he was chewing, and the light tapping of his thumb against the wood rail, River forced her focus on the short red gelding who’d joined his pasture mate, curious to see what was happening.

“He’s gorgeous.” Stroking his mane, River watched the two geldings eyeing each other.

“That’s Sonny. He’s pretty, but he’s a troublemaker.” Easton reached over to scratch beneath the gray’s chin, like River had. “Chance is more my style. He’s friendly and smart and would rather hang out with you than get one over on you.”

Nodding toward the palomino mare in the corner, River asked, “How about her?”

“Old Skip?” Affection filled Easton’s voice. “She still runs these two boys ragged. But we’ve retired her. Unless my cousins come over and want to ride, she gets a free pass. She’s earned it. Dad took her all over these hills, then Ash all but rode the feet off her.” Easton glanced at her. “Do you ride?”

Once, River had spent every day on a horse. Now, the only horsepower in her life was the car she drove on LA highways. Ten years, and she still hadn’t gotten used to the loss of these animals in her life.

“I haven’t in a while,” River admitted. “But I used to live in a saddle.”

After a moment’s pause, Easton asked quietly, “Do you want to ride with me?”

There was something in the way he said it that sent a thrill of anticipation up her spine. When she was fifteen, she remembered one of the handsome young ranch hands riding up to her older sister, holding the reins of a second saddled horse jogging along with his own. That soft question of “Do you want to ride with me?” had left her beyond jealous of her sister.

Tall, gangly, and fiercely independent, River was the first one the boys picked to rope with them, to brand cattle with them, and to ride broncs with them. But no one—boy or man—had ever asked her to ride with him. Not the way Easton was asking her.

They weren’t even on the mountain yet, and River could already tell this was going to be a problem.

“Yeah.” Feeling abnormally shy, she nodded. “I’d like that.”

Easton pushed off the fence. “I’ll get them ready.”

When River informed her crew she wouldn’t be accompanying them back to Easton’s place to go over the footage, Jessie looked skeptical and murmured something about Easton murdering her in the woods. Bree’s eyes brightened.