“Excuse me. Are you River Lane?”

Darn it. River turned to give a polite wave to the woman who had said her name, but she found herself looking down at a child instead. The young girl in front of her had pigtails and the shiest, sweetest look on her face. Behind her, the girl’s mother stood with her phone, videoing her. Instead of giving an excuse or asking that the camera be turned off, River knelt so she was face-to-face with the child.

“Hello,” she said, smiling encouragingly. “What’s your name?”

“Jacie.”

“Jacie wants to be an actress,” her hovering mother supplied.

“Do you?” Did she? Or did Jacie’s mother want her to be an actress? The child seemed so shy. But she was also beautiful like her mother. River tugged the ear of Jacie’s toy moose. “I like your moose. I saw some in Alaska.”

The child’s wide, toothy beam was the first thing to make River feel better since she’d gotten up that morning and gotten on her plane. “I want to be a moose.”

“Well, Jacie, I want you to know that you are amazing. You’re smart and you’re strong, and you can be anything. An actress, an adventurer, a cowgirl. Anything you want.”

“Even a moose?”

“Even a moose.” River shared a chuckle with the girl’s mother.

Without warning, Jacie hugged her. Until that moment, River hadn’t realized how badly she needed a hug. While the mother took pictures and they both thanked her, River used every single trick in the book to hold it together. Then she walked calmly to the bathroom, locked the stall door behind her, and burst into tears.

When someone asked if she was okay through the stall divider, River mumbled, “I’m fine. Bad breakup.”

“Oh, I’ve been there.” The stranger in the next stall told her over the sound of tinkling. “Have yourself a good cry and then go drink them away. I’ve never met a person who wasn’t two shots of tequila away from a bad memory. In fact…” A bottle appeared under the door. “Here. Start now.”

Startled, River scooted away from the uninvited hand in her stall. “Oh. Umm, I couldn’t.”

The bottle waggled at her. “It’s no bother, I have plenty. Drink him away, darling.”

When one is faced with the option of drinking the bathroom tequila or not drinking the bathroom tequila, one…well…shouldn’t. But screw it. She’d survived Mount Veil. She’d survived leaving Easton. She could survive anything.

As always, the freeways in LA were packed, so River had plenty of time to miss her mountain man as her rideshare driver drove her to the studio in Hollywood where her friends were already editing their documentary. When she reached the studio, River knocked before sticking her head in the door.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked playfully.

Only one of the two figures inside turned around from their laptops, but when Bree jumped up, coming over to her, Jessie at least pulled off his headset and waved his hand absently.

Bree hugged her tight. “River, there you are. Jessie and I had a bet on whether you would actually leave.”

“How are you feeling?” River asked, fighting through the sadness Bree’s comment caused.

“My ribs are still sore, but I’m tough.”

“That you are. How’s the whiner?”

“The whiner is currently busy editing your cluster of a documentary.” Jessie swiveled around in his seat. “Okay, we lost a lot of footage when we lost the second camera, but we had enough backed up that it isn’t too bad. The best stuff was on the handheld anyway. Check this out. It’s only an early mock-up, but I think it has potential.”

River sat in Bree’s vacated chair, taking Jessie’s headset as she watched his laptop.

At first, it was exactly what she’d wanted. Exactly what she’d expected from two people as amazing at their jobs as they were. But the longer she watched, the more River started to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her jaw clenched as she finally hit pause.

“No.” Absolutely not.

Bree looked at her. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You keep showing us together.” River shook her head. “The focus of this is all wrong.”

Bree and Jessie shared a look.

“Listen, River, we need to talk. When we were up there, we kind of…” Jessie hesitated, searching for the right word. “Documented.”

“Of course you documented. That’s what you do on a documentary, as you love to remind me.”

“Yes,” Jessie agreed. “But we documented everything.”

Bree put a hand to her ribs, wincing as she leaned into the back of River’s seat. “Show her what we were looking at earlier.”

At Bree’s suggestion, Jessie twisted around and clicked on his keyboard, pulling up a new file. The computer screen was large enough that there was no pretending what she was looking at wasn’t her and Easton, sitting hip to hip at camp, his hand cupping her cheek as he kissed her. The handheld camera filming the moment bobbled slightly, then zoomed in on River taking his hand and tugging Easton to his feet, leading him toward the tent.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked quietly.

It was beyond cruel.

“Because we thought we were going up there to film about Moose Springs. But every shot, every scene, there’s this stuff.” Jessie pulled up another file, snow blindingly white as they stood high on the southern face of Mount Veil. Easton’s arm around her waist as she took in the vista. Then another file, with River yelling at him for putting himself at risk in the Veil and Easton growling right back.

“It’s you and him.” Jessie shrugged. “Everywhere, every scene. This is a real-life love story, River.”

She shook her head in a curt gesture. “Love stories have happy endings. I hate to break it to you, but I’m here, and he’s back in Moose Springs. Whatever you’re trying to spin this as, it isn’t real. And the Alaskan Tourism Board won’t care that he and I had a fling. They care about bringing more visitors to Moose Springs.”

“Actually, it’s the most real you’ve ever been. Look at him, watching you do your interview. He can’t take his eyes off you. And you fronted the bill on this. Your only contracts right now are with us. No one’s successfully made a film about Moose Springs. Maybe you’re one more.”

“And the alternate option is?” River really didn’t like where this was going.

“We turn this into the indie film it deserves to be.” Jessie rarely sounded this calm when discussing his work, which meant he was trying to sell her on what he wanted. By the look of excitement on Bree’s face, River knew he wasn’t the only one.