Wildly, Boldly (Return to Culloden Moor #4)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

T he next morning, Sophie shifted in her seat, glancing out the window at the endless stretch of forest, the road winding through it like a ribbon of possibility. Her camera equipment, her EMF meters—everything except her phone—had been left behind at the lodge. And Wyatt still hadn’t told her where they were going.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you kidnapping me?”

Wyatt smirked but kept his gaze on the road. “You said you wanted to understand Alaska.”

“I did,” she admitted. “But I kind of thought that would involve a haunted cabin or at least a few mysterious cold spots.”

“Not today.” He turned onto an old scenic route, one tourists rarely found, the narrow road carved between towering evergreens. “Today, you’re seeing Alaska the way it’s meant to be seen.”

“Without my camera? My EMF meters? After the aurora shows we’ve had?”

“Without any equipment,” he confirmed.

She slumped dramatically against the seat. “My followers will never forgive me.”

“Your followers will survive.” He gestured toward a weathered turnoff sign. “Trace’s hunting group is up that way. Should be back in a few days.”

Sophie sat up, intrigued. “What kind of hunts?”

“It’s mountain goat season,” he said, navigating another curve. “Whitney’s brother Trace has been guiding hunts here since we were kids. He can track anything through these mountains.”

Sophie leaned forward to peer up the shadowy trail. “Meanwhile, I’m out here hunting things that don’t leave tracks at all,” she said with a self-deprecating grin.

Wyatt shook his head, amused. “At least ghosts don’t charge at you. Usually.”

The road wound higher into the mountains, each turn revealing new views of the valley below. Mist clung to the peaks ahead, and patches of early morning sunlight painted the landscape in gold. Through breaks in the trees, he could see Kirkham Lodge in the distance, looking small against the vast wilderness.

“Oh wow,” she whispered.

He glanced over to find her pressed against the window, phone forgotten in her lap. After their quiet moment under the stars last night, something had shifted between them. He was trying not to think too hard about what that meant.

“The locals call this God’s Window,” he said, pulling into a small turnout. “But you won’t find it in any guidebook.”

Sophie was out of the truck before he could finish parking, her auburn hair catching the morning light as she walked to the guardrail. He followed more slowly, enjoying her obvious wonder.

“This is incredible,” she breathed. “Look at how the light hits the water! And those mountains...they almost don’t look real.”

The familiar view took on new life through her eyes. He found himself noticing details he usually took for granted—the way the fog wrapped around the peaks like a scarf, how the distant waterfall caught the sunlight just so.

“Different from your usual haunts?”

“Just a bit.” She laughed softly. “Though I bet this place has some amazing stories.”

“A few.” He leaned against the rail beside her, close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo. “See that meadow down there? Local legend says it was a gathering place for Native tribes long before the gold rush. They’d come from miles around to trade and tell stories.”

Sophie turned to him with interest. “What kind of stories?”

“The usual—creation myths, tales about the northern lights. Some say the lights were messages from their ancestors.”

“And you don’t believe any of it?”

He considered his answer carefully, remembering how she’d looked last night under those same lights. “I believe the stories matter. That they’re part of what makes this place special. Just maybe not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning...” He gestured at the valley spread before them. “This land has seen thousands of years of human history. Gold rushes, broken dreams, new beginnings. The stories we tell about it, ghost or otherwise, are just ways of connecting to that history. Of making sense of our place in it.”

Sophie studied him for a long moment. “That’s...surprisingly poetic coming from Mr. Skeptic.”

“Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”

Her laugh echoed across the valley. “Your secret’s safe with me.” She turned back to the view, a soft smile playing at her lips. “Though I still think there’s more to it than just stories.”

“Of course you do.”

They stood in comfortable silence, watching an eagle soar below them. The morning air was crisp with the promise of fall, carrying the scent of pine and distant snow.

“Thank you,” Sophie said quietly. “For showing me this.”

“The day’s not over yet.” He pushed off the rail. “We’ve still got a few more stops, if you’re interested.”

Her eyes lit up. “More secret local spots?”

“Maybe.” He headed back to the truck. “Unless you’d rather go chase those aurora theories?”

“Tempting...” She fell into step beside him. “But I think the investigation can wait. Just this once.”

The drive down was quieter, but not uncomfortably so. Sophie seemed lost in thought, occasionally making soft sounds of appreciation when new views appeared. She didn’t reach for her phone once.

At their next stop, a hidden lake that perfectly reflected the mountains, she finally asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This tour. Showing me all these amazing places.” She turned those hazel eyes on him, searching. “Yesterday you were lecturing me about bear safety, and now...”

The question caught him off guard. He busied himself with retrieving a water bottle from his pack while he considered his answer.

“Maybe,” he said finally, “I wanted you to see what’s really special about this place. Not just the ghost stories or social media angles. But the quiet parts. The real parts.”

“The parts you love,” she said softly.

He met her gaze, something warm and dangerous unfurling in his chest. “Yeah.”

A loon called across the lake, breaking the moment. Sophie cleared her throat and looked away first.

“Well,” she said, a hint of teasing returning to her voice, “if your goal was to make me fall in love with Alaska, you might be succeeding.”

Just Alaska? he wanted to ask. But that was a dangerous road, especially with her departure date looming. Instead, he shouldered his pack and nodded toward the trail.

“Come on,” he said. “Got one more place to show you.”

Her smile could have outshone the morning sun. “Lead the way, Ranger Boone.”

And if he walked a little closer to her than necessary, well...that was just to make sure she didn’t trip over any roots.

At least, that’s what he told himself.