Wildly, Boldly (Return to Culloden Moor #4)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

W yatt couldn’t help but notice that the morning fog hadn’t quite lifted when he met Sophie outside her cabin. His gaze caught on her proper hiking boots and the small backpack she carried instead of her usual camera equipment. He found himself fighting back a smile. Progress.

“Fair warning,” she said, falling into step beside him. “I haven’t had coffee yet. We’re supposed to stay away from the lodge today as Whitney and Audrey are putting on a wedding. So if a bear attacks, you’re on your own.”

“Where is everyone else?” he asked.

“Trace and Darrow took the group on the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad for the day.” She adjusted her backpack with a small shrug. “I thought this might be more interesting.”

A wave of pleasure rushed through his chest at her words. She’d chosen to skip the scenic train ride through the mountains to spend time with him instead. He tried to keep his expression neutral, determined not to encourage her even as warmth spread through him at her proximity. “Though you might want to save your energy. It’s a long patrol.”

“Is this your way of telling me I’m out of shape?” She clutched her chest in mock offense, and something in his chest tightened at the playful light in her eyes. “Because I’ll have you know I once climbed three flights of stairs without dying.”

“Impressive.” The word came out drier than he’d intended, but his lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

“I thought so.” She lifted her chin with exaggerated pride. “It was the Spanish Steps in Rome, and I did it while eating gelato, so really, I’m basically an athlete.”

The laugh escaped before he could stop it. “Yeah, that sounds like some Olympic-level endurance.”

They headed up the trail that wound behind the lodge, Sophie’s breath coming faster as the path steepened. But she didn’t complain, just adjusted her pace and kept moving. Something about her determination made him want to slow down, to match her stride. He found himself torn between maintaining his usual pace and wanting to make this moment last.

As the fog began to lift, he found himself pointing out landmarks he usually took for granted—the old mining trail, the eagle’s nest high in a spruce tree, the waterfall that only appeared after heavy rain. Her genuine interest made him see his familiar route with fresh eyes, and he realized he was enjoying sharing these details with her more than he should.

“Look at that!” She stopped suddenly, and his hand automatically moved toward his bear spray before he realized she was pointing at something off the trail.

“What?”

“Those tracks.” She was already moving carefully through the underbrush, her earlier fatigue forgotten. “See how they’re overlapping? Like someone—or something—was pacing back and forth?”

He followed, surprised and impressed by her observation. The tracks were indeed unusual—not the straight path of an animal moving with purpose, but a pattern of repeated steps that spoke of agitation or territorial marking.

“Good catch,” he said, and her answering smile sent a jolt of pleasure through him that he tried to ignore. “Probably a predator marking territory.”

“Or a ghost bear.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“A ghost bear.” He kept his voice flat, even as his chest warmed at her playfulness.

“Hey, anything’s possible.” But her grin told him she was joking. Mostly. “Though I suppose a regular bear is exciting enough.”

They continued up the trail, Wyatt noting areas that needed maintenance while Sophie peppered him with questions about wildlife behavior. Her genuine curiosity made him see this familiar route differently, though he’d never admit how much he enjoyed showing her his world.

Near the ridge, Sophie stopped to catch her breath, leaning against a boulder. “Okay, I take it back. I definitely need a Wyatt Boone Fitness Plan.”

“You’re doing better than most tourists.” The words came out before he could stop them, and he realized he meant it.

“High praise indeed.” She took a long drink from her water bottle, and his attention caught on the way her throat moved as she swallowed. He forced himself to look away. “Though I notice you’re not even winded.”

“Practice.” He scanned the valley below, grateful for the distraction. Something moved at the edge of his vision. “Hold on.”

Through a gap in the trees, a massive bull moose ambled into view, barely thirty yards away. Sophie’s fingers found his wrist, but she stayed perfectly still. The touch of her hand sent warmth spreading up his arm, and he found himself hyper-aware of every point of contact.

The moose regarded them with mild interest, then apparently decided they weren’t worth the effort. It moved past, giving them a wide berth before disappearing into the brush.

Or so they thought.

“Um, Wyatt?” Sophie’s voice held a mix of amusement and concern. “I think we’re being followed.”

Sure enough, the moose had circled back and was now trailing behind them at a distance, like some oversized, antlered puppy.

“I told you,” she whispered, her eyes dancing. “It’s obviously a spirit moose, drawn to my magnetic personality.”

He shouldn’t laugh. He really shouldn’t. But the absurdity of the situation—the massive bull moose delicately picking its way along the trail behind them, Sophie’s ridiculous ghost theories—broke through his usual reserve. The sound of their shared laughter warmed something inside him that he hadn’t even realized was cold.

“Right,” he managed. “Because that’s the logical explanation.”

“More logical than a moose with a crush on you.” She grinned up at him. “Though I suppose I can’t blame him.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Sophie’s cheeks flushed pink. Before either of them could respond, the moose sneezed loudly, startling itself so badly it nearly tripped over its own legs as it darted into the brush.

Their laughter echoed through the trees, and something in Wyatt’s chest loosened. He should step back. Should remind himself that she was leaving soon, that getting attached was a bad idea. Instead, he found himself sharing stories about his early days as a ranger, when everything in these woods was new to him too.

“Thank you,” she said as they emerged from the trail, the lodge now visible through the trees. “For sharing this with me.”

“Just doing my job.” The words felt hollow even as he said them, knowing they were far from the truth.

“No.” She stopped just shy of the clearing, forcing him to face her. “You’re showing me your world. The real Alaska, not just the tourist version. That means something.”

He met her gaze, struck again by how genuine she was, how different from what he’d expected. The morning sun caught in her hair, making it glow like burnished copper, and he found himself wanting to reach out and touch it.

They stood there for a moment, the morning sun warming their faces, the lodge waiting just ahead. He knew he should maintain his distance, keep things professional. But something about Sophie made him want to forget all his carefully constructed rules.

Finally, Sophie gestured forward. “I should probably get going.” She paused. “Do you want to get some breakfast? If we’re hungry today, we can go around to the kitchen’s back door—Nukak is still keeping us fed.”

“No.” He turned toward his truck, his chest tight with regret. He needed to get to work. He’d been spending too much time with her lately, enjoying it way too much.

She’d be leaving soon anyway.

He took two steps, then stopped. The thought of walking away from her, of missing even a few minutes in her company, suddenly seemed ridiculous. Why not enjoy as much of her company as he could while she was here?

He turned back, his heart lighter than it had been in years. “Actually, breakfast sounds good.”

Sophie’s whole face lit up at his response, and as they walked together toward the kitchen, Wyatt found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, breaking his own rules wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

When Nukak handed them each a plate loaded with eggs, bacon, and hash browns, Sophie led the way to the picnic table nestled under the towering spruce trees behind the kitchen. The morning sun filtered through the branches, and as they sat down across from each other, Wyatt realized he couldn’t remember the last time his life had felt this right.