“Are you sure?” Jessie seemed to need stronger confirmation. “She’s not wrong that pulling this trigger could affect your life. The media will find you, no matter where you are.”

“I’ve got a nice big backyard to go hide in if people get too annoying,” Easton reminded him, jutting his chin toward the mountains beyond.

“True,” Jessie admitted.

They sat quietly for a few moments, then Jessie exhaled a tight breath. “When I went through the Veil, I came out a different man. And not for the better. It’s not fun to get a good look at yourself and realize you aren’t half as brave as you want to be.”

Taking a sip of his water, Easton grunted. “It’s not about being brave. Either it’s in your blood or it isn’t.”

“It’s in hers. I’ve known River a long time, and this was the happiest I’ve ever seen her. This was the life she was meant to have. Too bad she got sucked into being the next biggest film producer in the industry.” Jessie stood, laptop still open in his hands. “It’s a tough life.”

Maybe. Or maybe a life didn’t have to be one thing or another. “Hey, Jessie. Where in LA is she?”

“River? I figured she would have told you.” Jessie shook his head. “She decided it was time to move back home. She’ll still fly out for work when she gets her next job, but our girl’s in Wyoming now.”

“Why?”

“When you lose the love of your life, what else do you do? You go home.” Jessie waggled the laptop at Easton, where it had paused on them at the summit. “Hey, out of sheer curiosity, what did you say to her up there?”

He didn’t have to answer him, but Easton was done fighting this. Heading for his truck, Easton replied over his shoulder, “I told her I’d love her with every last breath I take.”

“Cool.” Jessie nodded, satisfied. “Can I add that in subtitles?”

Easton climbed in his truck. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

He slammed the door shut, then rolled down his window with the manual crank, saying to Jessie, “Never been so sure of anything in my life.”

• • •

Riding a horse was like riding a bike. Only riding a bike didn’t make every muscle in River’s body hurt after only four hours.

At her family’s ranch, it wasn’t unusual to spend all day in the saddle, it was expected. If River still had a tailbone or skin left on her inner knees by the time she managed to get done with her day’s work, it would be a miracle. They’d named her horse Ticktock, claiming it was only a matter of time before the dun gelding decided to toss her in the dirt, but other than a few sidesteps and one pointed snort of annoyance, Ticktock had behaved himself.

As for River, the only thing close to climbing was riding. Even if she couldn’t sit down tonight, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

A whistle pulled her attention. Her father’s foreman pointed toward the circular drive in front of the barn, bringing all the ranch hands’ eyes to where he was looking. Her father turned his roan mare toward the road, causing Ticktock to sidestep as the foreman trotted up to them.

“That’s one big son of a bitch. Boss, you expecting company?”

In a group of men this tough, it took someone special to make them all sit up straighter. Settling her mount before twisting in the saddle, River saw the person who had caught their attention. She felt her jaw loosen in shock.

“You’re kidding me.”

Preston Lane—her father—raised an eyebrow. “You know him, honey?”

“That’s Easton.”

Her father chuckled. “Well, boys, I guess that’s an Easton.”

“What the hell is an Easton?” the foreman asked.

Her father shook his head. “You’ll have to ask JD. She’s the one he’s here for, not me.”

Leaving them to their teasing, River turned Ticktock and trotted to the fence Easton was leaning on. Heart in her throat as she reined in, River couldn’t help reaching out her hand for his to make sure he was real. Large, callused fingers closed around hers.

“You’re in Wyoming.”

Those kind brown eyes gazed up at her.

“You’re in Wyoming,” Easton said in his quiet rumble. “Didn’t make sense to be anywhere else.”

The bag slung over his shoulder wasn’t enough to pack an entire life in, but it was big enough to pack a week’s worth of clothes and a heart bigger than the man in front of her. His courage for showing up there left her breath caught in her lungs.

She’d missed him so much.

“I earn most of my money guiding climbs in the summer back home.” He cleared his throat. “Can’t leave my dad alone at Christmas. As for the rest of it, I figured wherever you were at seemed a whole lot better than missing you alone.”

River’s face hurt from the smile splitting it. “Christmas in Moose Springs?”

“It gets interesting.” His beard flashed her a quick grin.

“Will they want me there?”

“I want you there. And if you make that movie the way it deserves instead of for the Alaskan Tourism Board, they’ll like you a whole lot more.”

“The Old Man’s about to become a lot more popular. People are going to want to find their own adventure up there. Maybe even fall in love with their own mountain man. Think you can handle it?”

“As long as they know I’m spoken for.”

“The marmot?” River teased.

“I figured I’d see how this went first, ma’am.”

They shared a smile, and in that moment, River knew she’d found her home. Wyoming, Alaska, it didn’t matter. Home was where Easton was.

“Ma’am me like you mean it, big guy. Kiss me too, since you came all this way.”

With a sigh of relief, he ducked the fence. It occurred to her that he hadn’t been sure of his welcome, but Easton would always be welcome in River’s life. Always. Leaning down off the side of Ticktock, River pressed her lips to his.

And up until the damn horse tossed her off and stepped on Easton’s foot, breaking two of his toes, it was the best kiss ever.

• • •

No one made a movie very quickly. By the time River’s documentary was finished, simple as it was, they’d agreed to a new routine. Summers and Christmas in Moose Springs with his family. Winters and Thanksgiving in Wyoming with hers. Trips to LA as she negotiated her next film. Utah and Toronto to promote the documentary, with a few overseas excursions in the mix.