“You tried, boss,” Ben said with a shrug, digging for the rest of the radios.

“Remember,” Easton said one last time. “I can find you blind if you stay where you’re supposed to be. If not, I can’t help you.”

Holding River’s eyes, he added quietly, “No matter how much I might want to.”

• • •

Someone had constructed a very nice snow wall around her tent while River had been passed out in Easton’s. Still, it never hurt to build it up higher, especially with the ominous clouds gathering in the northwest.

Easton said the storm was supposed to only give them a glancing blow, not a full fist to the face. She wasn’t too worried about the storm, but River couldn’t shake the feeling of being a sitting duck up there, without any chance to avoid what was headed their way.

As the sky darkened, Easton radioed everyone into their tents, told them to buckle down, and they would wait it out. Try to sleep if they could.

Sleep wasn’t anywhere close to River’s mind when the storm hit.

The beating of the wind against the fabric of their tents started within minutes, building up to a howl in her ears. She’d tried to put on a brave face for her team, but there was something intrinsically terrifying about knowing the only thing between herself and the raw power of nature was a thin piece of fabric.

If something tore her tent, she’d be toast.

Very cold toast.

Turning down her portable light as low as it would go and still allow her to see, River lay on her back, watching the tent buffeting above her. A wandering mind never wandered in comforting directions, and she’d imagined all sorts of ways they could be buried beneath the results of this storm before River finally shook her head.

“Okay, I need a distraction.” Pulling out her radio, she hit the button on the side. “Easton, can you hear me?” Probably not, because she could barely hear herself. “Everything’s fine,” River added quickly. “I just needed someone to talk to, since it sounds like a wind demon is trying to devour our souls outside.”

Static, then Easton’s deep rumble. “Over.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You have to say over,” he explained. “And this isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be. We’re fine. Try to get some sleep. Over.”

Okay. They were fine. Except…well…it still sounded like they were not fine outside.

After a moment, River picked up the radio again. “Do you want to play a radio game?” she asked.

Silence, then Easton’s reply. “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to, but it would be awfully embarrassing to play radio charades by myself.”

A low chuckle was barely audible above the screaming of the wind. “Fine,” Easton gave in. “I spy with my little eyes something—”

“Don’t say white,” River groaned into the radio. “If you say white, I’m hanging up on you.”

“And letting me get some sleep?”

“Please, no one could sleep through this. What do you spy?”

He must have been going to say white, because it took him a moment to switch. “I spy something green.”

She had absolutely no idea what was green in his tent. So she guessed. And she guessed some more. And when the normal suggestions ran out, River cast her net wide.

“A bucket,” she guessed.

“Nope.”

“A marmot?”

There was a long pause before Easton finally murmured into the radio, “It was getting cold.”

“You’re such a softie.” River giggled. “You know it’s falling in love with you, right?”

Easton yawned. “Maybe it needed to meet someone who treated it better than the other marmots. It’s hard to find the right person these days, especially when internet dating isn’t an option in the bush.”

“Are online marmot dating sites a thing?”

“I assume so. Are you done guessing?”

River was about to answer when a third voice interrupted them.

“In about thirty seconds, you’re going to have me in your tents, smothering you both,” Jessie said over the radio. “River, it’s a book.”

“I said book,” River argued.

Easton sounded far too smug. “You didn’t say which book.”

“Gone with the Wind?”

“Nope,” he told her. “Watership Down.”

“Aww. The one with the bunnies?”

Even over the wind, they could hear Jessie yelling in his tent for them to shut up. Grinning, River stayed quiet, at least for a few minutes longer, then she clicked on the radio one last time, pressing it against her cheek.

“Hey, Easton?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re our guide.”

Silence, then her favorite voice in the world rumbled sweetly in her ear. “Me too, River. Me too.”

Chapter 11

   Since she was alone in her tent, no one needed to know River slept with the radio tucked under her arm, tight to her rib cage like a teddy bear.

Somehow Easton’s deep voice—so calm and unafraid despite the winds shrieking around them—had allowed River to drift off to sleep. Even with the storm, she slept great. River only started to stir when a loud squawk from the radio startled her upright.

“What? Who—?” Twisting around, her brain tried and failed to keep up.

“Rise and shine.” The radio crackled against her breast. “We’ve got a mountain to climb. Are you coming, or do I need to dig you out?”

River didn’t understand what Easton meant until she rolled over and scooted sideways a few inches, reaching for the zipper on her tent. When she unzipped it, she was met with a wall of white.

“I’m good. Don’t—”

A mouthful of soft fresh powder kicked into her face midsentence. Easton’s warm brown eyes appeared in her view as she blinked snow out of her lashes.

“Good morning.” He chuckled at the expression on her face.

“Is it?” River mumbled.

Easton wasn’t wearing a jacket, meaning the reflection off the snow must have been heating the site enough she wouldn’t need one either. When River drew in a deep breath, her lungs resisted the cold, thinner air. A blast of wind blew the snow past Easton’s crouching form and into her tent. How in the world did this man not need a coat?