“Great.” Bree glanced over at Ruby Lou. “If I didn’t think it would be too tough on her, I’d ask her to do the voiceover for all of the historical background. She has the soul of a born storyteller.”

Right as Easton opened the door for her wheelchair, Ruby Lou sat straighter, turning those bright eyes their way. “I’m not so weak as you think. I could still dance circles around everyone here.”

“The soul of a storyteller and the ears of an elephant.” Easton said. “Grandma, what do you think?”

“Would I get to go to Hollywood?”

“Do you want to go to Hollywood, Mrs. Lockett?” Bree asked.

“I always did want to see that big sign. And put my hand on one of the stars.”

Jessie looked up from where he was breaking down the equipment. “On the walk of fame?”

“No, child, one of the stars. Robert Redford, maybe.”

Easton cringed. “Okay, and that’s my cue to wrap this thing up. Come on, Grandma. Dad just pulled up to give you a ride back home.”

Easton wheeled his grandmother to the door to a chorus of thank-yous from River’s crew, then disappeared outside.

Bree looked askance at River. “Wow, you could not stay focused.”

“It’s Easton’s fault. Did you see him this morning?”

“That man should wear nothing but jeans and water all the time.” Eyeing her speculatively, Bree said, “When I went to check on you last night, I had the feeling I was walking into something.”

“Nothing happened. I was…it was the Growly Bear. I drank more than you did.”

Snickering, Bree shook her head. “Liar.”

“Or maybe he’s superhot,” River joked. “And I can’t keep from throwing myself at him when everyone’s back is turned.”

“That sounds a lot more realistic.”

Growing serious, River started to help take down the equipment. “Listen, it really isn’t anything. Don’t worry. My focus is completely on the film.”

“Are we ignoring the mountain-sized elephant in the room?” Jessie took the tripod out of River’s hands. He had never trusted her to mess with the gear. “I researched the stats last night. People have to be rescued off Denali all the time, but Mount Veil is something else. Are we sure we’re ready for this?”

“I’m ready for it.” Rising to her feet, Bree pushed a case at him. “And if you’re going to panic up there, you’d better say something now.”

“I’m not panicking. I’m saying it’s a scary climb. Climber for climber, the mortality rate for the Old Man—” Jessie stopped, making a face. “He’s got me saying it now. The mortality rate for Mount Veil is the worst in the state. It’s not dangerous. It’s stupid dangerous.”