Dropping down to his heels didn’t make him seem much shorter, not with those broad shoulders and muscled chest. But his normally deadpanned face was creased with humor.

“You aren’t intimidated by me at all, are you?”

“Is there any reason I should be?” River arched an eyebrow at him.

Chuckling, Easton shook his head. “Not that I can think of. I already set up my tent, and we don’t need the dining tent until we get to the snow. Want some help?”

“Nope, but I appreciate the offer.” River’s name might have been fake, but her spine was strong as steel and true. She could, and would, set up her own tent.

“You remind me of whisky,” Easton murmured.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends on how long I stay within arm’s reach.”

River wasn’t sure what to say about that, but if she was whisky, he was the biggest, most decadent brownie. And chocolate sauce.

Easton was all the chocolate sauce.

“Why do I have a feeling I don’t want to know what you’re thinking?”

“My mind’s a wild, sticky, confusing place,” River admitted. “Trust me, I don’t want to think what I’m thinking either.”

This time, he didn’t ask. Easton simply took the piece of her tent frame she couldn’t figure out and locked it into place, a casual action by someone who actually could do this with his eyes closed.

“You’re my kind of confusing.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “And you might want to film that.”

“Film what?”

“The grizzly watching us right now.”

He nodded toward the edge of the ridge, some twenty feet away. Sure enough, a grizzly bear was standing there, watching them curiously. At which point River learned something very important about herself. She wasn’t the best at putting up a tent, but at least she didn’t run screaming when a four-hundred-pound grizzly with allergies sneezed.

Jessie would never be able to say the same. Never had River seen anyone panic to the extent Jessie panicked upon realizing there was a bear in their camp.

“Stop, drop, and roll!” Bree kept yelling to Jessie as he shrieked and panicked…doing all the things one was not supposed to do in the presence of an apex predator. “Don’t climb the tree! People, Jessie climbed the tree.”

Ben stood there, fingers wrapped around the bear spray in his hand, looking concerned for the first time that day. “Dude. That’s a great way to get eaten.”

“No one will eat Jessie,” Bree decided as the bear gave them some serious side-eye before lumbering away. “There’s not enough to eat.”

As Jessie and Bree immediately started arguing about who had the better survival instincts, River glanced at their guide.

“We’re not making it off the mountain alive, are we?” River asked him as Jessie started to climb down from his tree.

“You will,” Easton said as he rose to his feet. “No promises on the rest of them.”

• • •

Easton didn’t know when the marmot started following them.

Marmots tended to be shy creatures, similar in appearance to beavers and cute as could be with their tiny faces and mass of fluffy fur. The movement of this one caught his eye as they hiked, but Easton was used to seeing marmots in the bush. They tended to live at or below the tree line, but sometimes they lived higher. He doubted one would be camped out on the summit waiting for them, but they were as likely to hang out at high elevations as Dall sheep.

He figured it would disappear at some point, but for some reason, it paralleled their path as they passed through the tree line at eleven thousand feet. Here the world was ice and snow. Still, it hung close, at first staying even with Ben, then moving up to Bree. It tried Jessie, then River, but like Goldilocks and the three bears, apparently Easton was just right.

The marmot stayed with him.

Easton tried to ignore it when the thing started making chittering noises at him. Because, well, it kind of sounded like the marmot was talking to him. Which was weird. What was weirder was when it decided to walk closer, keeping up the running commentary.

“What’s with the furball?” Ben called up. “I’ve never seen a marmot this friendly.”

“Yeah, Easton,” Bree said. “I think someone has a crush on you.”

“Don’t tease him.” River pointed at the marmot. “Tease him and film it. Come on, people. This is gold.”

Easton stopped in his tracks, well aware of the camera on him as he turned to look down at the animal at his feet.

“What?” he asked the marmot. “Did you need something?”

Apparently, it needed to be acknowledged and maybe a hug, because it scooted nearer and all but stood on his foot, gazing up at him with beady, soulful eyes.

“Do you think it’s all the hair?” Bree asked softly. “Maybe the marmot thinks Easton’s a really big, grumpier marmot. Are you getting this, Jessie?”

“I’m already on it.” With a purr of satisfaction, Jessie knelt at marmot level. “Easton, what’s its name?”

“How should I know?” Easton said, knowing they were making fun of him. But when he saw the huge grin on River’s face, the part of him that became stupider in her presence grudgingly played along. “The idiot with the camera wants to know what your name is.”

The marmot chirped.

“It said it refuses to be defined by the confines of a name. It’s far too cosmopolitan for that.” Okay, that was worth the soft peal of delight he pulled from River. “Come on, people. We have a schedule here.”

No one moved except to cluster closer. The marmot chirped in alarm, scuttling behind Easton’s feet. Then it proceeded to scold him for allowing such a thing to occur.

Easton refused to have any feelings on the matter. Nope. No feelings at all.

It took him a while to get them all going, and it really didn’t help when the marmot of dubious nomenclature decided to continue along, as if it were a given that it was now part of the group. Easton tried a few times to spook it away, thinking maybe the animal was sick and that was why it was acting strangely. But every attempt was met with a chittering lecture from the furball, so eventually Easton gave up and continued on his hike.

They filmed as they walked, and as he watched them work, Easton could tell that River was good at her job. She left her people alone to do what they were best at, but she was always watching who was filming what, and every so often, she’d redirect their attentions to a different, better shot.