“There’s a cold front coming through from the northwest. They’re saying it dumped an extra two feet of powder at Camp Three on Denali. Came on fast, and everyone there is having a mess of a time digging out. You’re not directly in the path, but you’ll get some of it. Might want to sit until it passes. Winds are strong. Forty mile an hour gusts.”

“Thanks, Ash. We’ll hold tight.”

“Good. Oh, and, East.”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to let the actress eat you alive.”

Since she’d kept them from possibly freezing to death in a snowstorm, Easton almost wasn’t offended by that.

Almost.

“What’s going on?” Bree asked when he hung up with his sister.

“There’s a storm on its way,” Easton informed his clients, moving to stand in front of them. “Ben will make sure everyone has a radio. Keep it on channel four. There are high winds in this storm, so there’s always a slim possibility that the tents will give.”

Jessie’s eyes went wide, his voice squeaking. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Oh,” Ben spoke up, cheerful as ever. “I’ve seen them rip apart like a blood bag in a shark tank. You’re screwed when that happens.”

“A what?” Bree stared at him. “What’s a blood bag?”

“How do you not know what a blood bag is?” Ben asked her.

“How do you know what a blood bag is?”

Easton cleared his throat. Loudly. “Yes. Sometimes a well-made tent won’t be a match for these kinds of winds. The snow walls we built are solid, but in the time we have before the weather comes through, let’s build them up as much as we can. River, don’t push yourself.”

She opened her mouth, eyes flashing in indignation.

“I know you can pull your own weight. Just don’t try to pull anyone else’s.” Holding up the radio, Easton held each of his team’s gazes with a stern look of his own. “Make sure you know how to use this, where the buttons are, everything. We don’t know what’s coming our way, and you need to be able to make a call in zero visibility. If your tent goes, do not try to get to one of the other tents. Stay put, and not a foot off center. Radio me, and I will come get you.”

“I can’t decide if that’s sexy or scary,” Bree murmured to River, who shared a quick smile with the other woman. They weren’t taking this seriously enough.

“We’re not that high up yet, which might be giving you three a false sense of security. Mount Veil is dangerous, and storms like this are only part of the reason why. You can die as quickly at eleven thousand feet as you can at fifteen or twenty like Denali.”