Wildly, Boldly (Return to Culloden Moor #4)

Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

#AlaskaLife #GhostHunting #DateNight #MagicInTheAir

“ Y ou’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” Sophie asked as Wyatt’s truck wound up a mountain road she didn’t recognize.

“Nope.” But he was smiling that small, secret smile that made her heart flutter. “Though I will say your ghost hunting equipment might come in handy.”

“Really?” She perked up. “Are we finally going to investigate something properly spooky?”

“Not exactly.”

The events of the afternoon—the rescue, the storm, the intensity of it all—had left them both drained. But after hot showers and Whitney’s famous hot chocolate, Wyatt had appeared at her cabin door with an invitation.

“Dress warm,” was all he’d said. “And bring your camera gear.”

Now, as the truck climbed higher into the mountains, Sophie tried to guess their destination. The storm had blown over, leaving the sky impossibly clear and the air crisp with the promise of autumn.

Wyatt turned onto a narrow dirt road, then another, until finally pulling up to what looked like the edge of the world. Sophie gasped as she stepped out of the truck.

The valley spread out below them like a painting, Skagway’s lights twinkling in the distance. Mountains rose on all sides, their peaks still touched with the last rays of sunset. And above...

“Oh my god,” she breathed.

The stars were coming out, more than she’d ever seen, the Milky Way a river of light across the velvet sky. But what made her breath catch was the faint shimmer of green beginning to dance along the horizon.

“I thought...” Wyatt came to stand beside her, suddenly looking uncertain. “You mentioned wanting to test your theory about the aurora’s connection to supernatural activity. And this spot has some interesting stories...”

Sophie turned to stare at him. “You’re taking me ghost hunting?”

“I’m taking you to a place where you can do your research.” But his eyes crinkled at the corners. “The ghost part is up to you.”

From the truck bed, he pulled out a thick blanket and what looked suspiciously like a picnic basket.

“Whitney might have helped with provisions,” he admitted.

Sophie’s heart felt too big for her chest as she helped him spread the blanket on the grass. Here was her grumpy ranger, planning a date that perfectly combined his world and hers.

“So,” she said as they settled on the blanket, “what are these interesting stories?”

Wyatt pulled her close against the evening chill. “Back in the gold rush days, miners would see lights up here that couldn’t be explained. Not just the aurora—other lights, moving through the trees. Some said they were spirits of lost prospectors. Others thought they were something older...”

“And what do you think?”

“I think...” He was quiet for a moment, watching the aurora strengthen overhead. “I think some things don’t need explaining to be beautiful.”

Sophie set up her monitoring equipment, more out of habit than real intention. The lights were mesmerizing, dancing across the sky in waves of green and purple. When Wyatt pulled out thermoses of Whitney’s hot chocolate and fresh sourdough rolls still warm from the oven, she nearly melted.

“You know,” she said between bites, “for someone who claims to be bad at romance, you’re doing pretty well.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” But he pulled her closer, and she settled against his chest, watching the lights paint the world in magic.

“The miners weren’t wrong,” she said softly. “About the lights being special. When I watch them, it’s like...like anything could happen. Like the world is bigger and stranger and more wonderful than we imagine.”

“Maybe that’s what they were really seeing.” His voice rumbled against her back. “Not ghosts or spirits, but possibility.”

She twisted to look at him. “That’s surprisingly poetic coming from Mr. Practical.”

“You’re rubbing off on me.” He brushed a kiss against her temple. “Though if you tell anyone I said that...”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She grinned. “Though my followers would love to see this softer side of Ranger Grump.”

“Don’t push it.”

But he was smiling as he said it, and when she turned back to watch the lights, his arms tightened around her.

They sat in comfortable silence, the aurora dancing overhead, the mountain air crisp with approaching autumn. Sophie’s equipment beeped occasionally, recording temperature changes and electromagnetic readings, but for once she wasn’t focused on the data.

Instead, she memorized how it felt to be held by someone who understood both sides of her—the practical and the whimsical, the explorer and the homebody. Someone who might just be her own perfect possibility.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?”

“For this. For...” She gestured at her monitoring equipment. “For not making me choose between who I am and who I want to be.”

He was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. “You know, when you first arrived, I thought you were just another tourist chasing stories.”

“And now?”

“Now I think maybe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

The aurora flared overhead, painting them in ethereal light. Sophie’s equipment went crazy, readings spiking off the charts, but she didn’t look at the displays.

Instead, she turned in Wyatt’s arms and kissed him, pouring everything she couldn’t say into that one moment of contact. He responded immediately, one hand tangling in her hair while the other pulled her closer.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, the lights were still dancing overhead. Sophie’s monitoring equipment was still beeping insistently. But all she could focus on was the way Wyatt was looking at her—like she was something rare and precious and absolutely real.

“So,” she said, trying to steady her voice, “about those unexplained lights in the trees...”

He laughed and pulled her close again. “Only you would try to ghost hunt right now.”

“Hey, I contain multitudes.”

“That you do.” He kissed her again, softer this time. “That you do.”

Above them, the aurora painted the world in magic, but Sophie was beginning to think the real magic had nothing to do with ghosts or electromagnetic readings.

Sometimes the most supernatural thing of all was finding exactly where you belonged.