“I’m keeping my eye out for signs of trouble,” Easton said. “You need to stop worrying about this one.”

When Ash didn’t reply, Easton leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs as he tossed a piece of elk sausage in his mouth. The Locketts lived off the land as much as possible, although Easton had gotten in a bad habit of showing up at the Tourist Trap most days for lunch. If he had a heart attack from the delicious but greasy fare Graham was slinging, it would be Easton’s own fault.

“You break that chair, you’re making me a new one.”

Their father, Joshua Lockett, limped past to the coffeepot. Widowed two years earlier after Easton’s mother finally lost her battle with cancer, Joshua was the remaining parent in their lives. One whose presence registered like the force of nature he’d always been. There was nothing Joshua couldn’t do, build, or fix. When a man made a living from conquering mountains, it was hard to best him.

Joshua had taught Easton and Ash everything they knew about mountaineering, but Ash was happier in her helicopter, and after a bad leg injury, Joshua couldn’t keep the kind of pace required on a professional climb. If he resented a life of helping his daughter load and unload food and supply shipments for deliveries to more remote locations, he never said anything.

Locketts didn’t complain. They got the job done, whatever needed doing.

“No cane today, Dad?” Ash joined their father at the coffeepot. He paused midpour on his own cup, topping off the mug in Ash’s hand before adding what was left to his.

His sister could get away with things Easton never could. Asking their father about his cane was one of those things.

In the privacy of their own home, Joshua would use his cane on bad leg days. When winter came, most days were bad leg days. But in town or in front of others, he refused to let it show. Talking about the cane earned the kind of look that made most men—including Easton—want to disappear into the floor. But when Ash asked, she got a smile from their father.

“Feeling pretty good today, honey. Thanks.”

Serving himself up a plate of the eggs and sausage Easton had made for breakfast, Joshua joined them at the table.

He eyed the chair, then Easton. The critical look wasn’t what made Easton nervous. That was normal. It was the mischief in Joshua’s eye that Easton didn’t trust.

“What’s this I heard about you being in some movie?”

Easton dropped his head back. “I’m not in a movie. I’ll be standing next to some people taking footage of the mountains. At most, they might get a shot of my feet.”