“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.