The sun never set at the top of the world. At least not in July. But as she stood on the shelf, sweat trickling between her shoulder blades and blood pumping, River raised her eyes higher in the sky. This was a new day, a new chance to find the elusive thing beyond her fingertips that chasing her dreams had never discovered. That single, integral part of herself that had always been missing.

Taking her crew up Mount Veil was a risk, but like a dyno, when you jumped, you had to trust yourself. Every instinct in River’s body told her what she was looking for was there, up in those mountains. She didn’t want to climb Mount Veil; she had to. To prove to herself she could do this. To prove to herself that she didn’t stop being worthwhile because a bunch of Hollywood executives thought she was too old. The part of her soul that was drawn to climbing was calling her to Mount Veil, to find what she’d always been looking for. Whatever that was going to be…River knew it would be her missing piece.

As the peaks in the distance slipped behind the morning’s cloud cover, it didn’t matter one bit that River couldn’t see her goal. She didn’t have to see it.

Hope already burned through her veins.

• • •

One of these days, Easton was going to learn to knock before walking through Graham’s front door.

“Oops, sorry,” he mumbled, sharing in the mutual embarrassment of the kitchen’s two occupants. “I brought breakfast.”

It was a good breakfast too. Homemade breakfast burritos, the kind his father only made on special occasions. Or when Easton booked a well-paying climb up his favorite mountain.

The Locketts were creatures of habit, and Easton was no exception. His natural inclination to do things the same way, the same speed, at the same time had served him well in his chosen profession. Alpine climbing wasn’t free soloing in Yosemite: dramatic and pulse racing as a climber clung to the side of a sheer drop-off hundreds of feet above the ground. No, to get to the top of a monster like Mount Veil, slow and steady won the race every time. Following good habits that kept him and his clients safe.

But being a creature of habit sometimes meant walking into your friend’s kitchen first thing in the morning and accidentally interrupting. Good thing Graham always had a sense of humor about it, but this was starting to become routine. The house, the diner, behind Easton’s truck. At this point, he’d have to walk around with his hand over his eyes to preserve everyone’s dignity.

The couple couldn’t keep their hands off each other.