When River pushed up her goggles and started to cry, Easton understood completely. Setting the camera down, because he couldn’t hold her and film her at the same time, Easton angled it toward the summit and joined her. She’d gone through a lot to get here, more than most. Anyone else would have given up long ago, but not her.
He’d never thought any summit would top his first on Mount Veil. But Easton had never summited with River before. He’d never had someone else’s emotions so deeply tied to his own. Her joy, her pain, her determination…all cumulating in this final moment of triumph. It was a long way down, but right now, all that mattered was that they had made it there together.
No, summiting with River was so much better than it would ever be on his own.
“Was it worth it?” he asked her quietly.
Nodding, it was clear River was beyond words. Slipping an arm around her waist, Easton stood there, letting her fall apart.
“I don’t even know why I’m blubbering like an idiot.”
“Because there is nothing like this feeling. And there is no way to describe it that comes close to being enough. No book, no movie, documentary. It just…is.”
“This is your life,” River whispered.
“This is your life too, whisky.” Tightening his hold on her, Easton braced his legs apart in case the wind gusted unexpectedly. “When you’re at the top of the world, everything feels smaller. Your priorities shift. If you’re anything like me, you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this feeling.”
“Is that so bad?” she asked softly.
A lifetime of this…a lifetime of this with her…no. The idea wasn’t bad at all.
“Easton? If I told you I loved you, would you run screaming down the mountain?”
“You barely know me.” Even now, even here, he couldn’t imagine being lucky enough to have this woman’s heart.
She turned in his arm, raising those glorious eyes to his. “So?”
The top of the world was no place to play games. And it was not the place to announce to the world how he felt. So it was with entire seriousness that Easton whispered in her ear, words for her and no one else. And when he was done saying what needed to be said, he went back to the camera, lifting it and pointing it at her.
“Okay, River. Right now, you’re standing thousands of feet above Moose Springs. You’ve seen everything there is to this place. You’ve argued with our mayor, eaten from our best restaurant, flown in a helicopter, snuggled with a lovelorn marmot, survived the Veil, and you know firsthand how terrifying it is to sleep in avalanche country with Jessie snoring.”
Even though he felt like an idiot saying it, Easton had heard Jessie and Bree enough to know exactly what he should say. “Tell us why someone should come to Moose Springs.”
For a long time, River couldn’t say a word. Then she finally whispered into the wind.
“Because it’s where I found you.”
• • •
The climb down was slower than the climb up. River wasn’t sure why until she looked at her mountaineering watch. The wind had picked up, and even though the direction wasn’t buffeting them, the temperature sensor on her watch read that with the windchill, the temperature dropped from negative five degrees to negative fifteen degrees.
“How close are we to camp?” River called ahead.
“Not far. Another hour if we keep up the pace.”
He didn’t say she had fallen off the pace he tried to set, but River knew Easton kept having to wait for her. He’d taken the lead, and she was more than happy to let him. Being able to summit first had been one part of an absolutely amazing experience, but now they were headed back down, she could feel the adrenaline dump coming.
“I’m slowing you down,” she told him on one of their many breaks.
“We’re fine,” he promised her. “Keep putting one foot in front of the other.”
Easton gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and then turned, heading back down.
River never did see what caused Easton to fall. She just knew he was upright one moment, then on the ground the next.
When River had fallen in the Veil, the whole thing had happened faster than she could blink. But when Easton fell, taking her with him, everything went in slow motion. He yelled in warning before his weight and momentum snapped the line at her belt. She watched her boots come out from under her as she was knocked off her feet. Easton reaching for his ax, trying to slow their fall as, tied together, they slid down the mountain. Glimpsing her boots outlined against the summit, she realized she was falling headfirst.
A cry escaped her throat before she realized they’d slammed to a stop. The impact was so abrupt, it knocked the wind out of her. All River could do was lie there and gasp like a fish out of water, chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to get the thin mountain air to fill her lungs.
“That was exciting.” River rolled to her knees, making sure her crampons were dug tight into the ice. “When you decide to take a tumble, you do it with style, huh?”
He didn’t answer. Silent and unmoving, Easton lay there in the snow, facedown where he’d come to a stop.
“Easton?”
Scrambling to his side, River fought to roll him over. Unconscious, Easton was heavy and his body difficult to shift. Finally, she got him onto his back. A cut above his eye bled less than it should have for as deep as it was. She shook him, hard.
“Okay, big guy, this is not the time to go down. Easton, come on. Wake up.”
Easton groaned, stirring beneath her hands.
“Are you okay?” he demanded roughly, rolling over to try to get up to his knees. The fact that he promptly threw up was a bad sign.
River wrapped her arms around him, supporting him as he emptied his stomach.
“I’m fine,” she promised. “Try not to move. I think you hit your head.” Touching his forehead resulted in her pulling back gloved fingers stained with blood.
“Are you okay?” Easton repeated, voice slurring. He tried to push himself upright, reaching for her, but his eyes were unfocused. Hushing him, River ran her hands over Easton’s sides, looking for more injuries. When he asked her a third time if she was okay, she knew he was in trouble.
“I think you have a concussion.”
Worse still, she didn’t know if he’d hurt his neck. Unsure of what to do, River sat back, looking at how far they’d fallen off course. She knew where the path back to camp was, but she didn’t know what was between where she was and where they needed to be. They’d already fallen into one crevasse. River wasn’t interested in going into another. The weight leaning against her grew heavy enough she had a hard time staying sitting upright.