Wildly, Boldly (Return to Culloden Moor #4)

Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

#AlaskaLife #GhostHunting #Confessions CozyCabinVibes

T he lodge kitchen smelled of yeast and possibility. Whitney was kneading bread dough, her movements practiced and sure, when Sophie wandered in clutching her phone, still stunned by Marcus’s unexpected TV offer.

“Johnny,” Whitney called to her son without looking up, “why don’t you take your robot outside? Show your dad the new programming?”

Once Johnny had bounded out, Whitney gestured to a stool. “Want to talk about it?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Honey, you’ve been staring at your phone like it might bite you.” Whitney pushed a portion of dough toward her. “Here. This helps me think.”

Sophie washed her hands and joined Whitney at the counter. The rhythmic motion of kneading was oddly soothing.

“I just got the strangest call,” she said finally. “A TV network wants me. National show, traveling the country to investigate haunted locations. They saw my TikTok videos and...” She shook her head, still bewildered. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Is it what you want?”

“I don’t know.” Sophie punched the dough harder than necessary. “A year ago, I would have jumped at it. Just like Mom and Dad—they’re always traveling, chasing the next big thing. I grew up in boarding schools, summer homes, their place in New York...”

“Where do you stay between your ghost hunting trips?”

“I have a room in their penthouse. Well, when they’re not traveling themselves. Mom’s always trying to set me up with ‘suitable young men.’“ Sophie made air quotes with flour-covered fingers. “They love me, in their way. They’re just...”

“Not great with roots?”

“Exactly.” Sophie looked down at her dough. “Sometimes I wonder what it’s like, having a real home. Like you—you’ve always had the lodge, this community.”

Whitney was quiet for a long moment, her hands stilling in the dough. “Not always.” She glanced out the window, making sure Johnny was still occupied with Darrow. “Can I tell you something I don’t talk about much?”

Sophie nodded, surprised by the serious turn in Whitney’s tone.

“Six years ago, I thought I’d found my fairy tale. A guest came to the lodge—charming, sophisticated. He swept me off to Wilmington, to high society.” Whitney’s voice carried an edge Sophie had never heard before. “I thought it was what I wanted.”

“What happened?”

“Turned out Prince Charming had a darker side. The charm was just a mask.” Whitney took a steadying breath. “Let’s just say those six years were the longest of my life. Then he died in a car accident, and I came home.”

Sophie’s hands stilled in the dough. “I had no idea.”

“Not many people do. Johnny was just a baby when we came back.” Whitney smiled softly at her son through the window. “When Darrow showed up at the lodge last year...” She shook her head. “I wanted nothing to do with him. Another charming stranger, another man passing through Alaska looking for adventure.”

“But he stayed.”

“He stayed.” Whitney’s expression softened. “And he was different from anyone I’d ever known. Patient. Kind.” She laughed softly. “Even when he was telling me impossible stories about being a ghost.”

“Coming home must have been hard,” Sophie said quietly.

“It was like seeing Alaska for the first time.” Whitney shaped her dough with careful movements. “Sometimes you don’t know how precious something is until you’ve lost it. Until you come back and realize it was home all along.”

Something in Whitney’s words struck deep. Sophie thought about Wyatt—steady, reliable Wyatt, who drove her crazy and made her feel safe all at once.

“I’ve never had that,” Sophie admitted. “A real home. I always thought I was like Mom and Dad, needing to chase the next thing. But lately...”

“Yes?”

Sophie stared at her phone, at the offer that should have been thrilling but instead felt hollow. “Lately I’ve been wondering if maybe I was running because I didn’t know what I was looking for.”

“And now?”

“Now...” She took a deep breath. “Now I think maybe what I’ve been looking for was here all along. I wonder if the network would consider a different kind of show.”

Whitney’s eyebrows rose. “What kind?”