“I’m more concerned about the bears May mentioned.”
“Bears are the least of your worries,” Nash replies. “It’s the mosquitoes you’ve got to be wary of. They’re so big up in the Peaks they’ve been known to carry off small children.”
I narrow my eyes, unsure if he’s joking.
“Don’t worry, Hollywood. Finn knows those mountains almost as well as I do. You’re in excellent hands.” He grins and stretches.
The back door opens, and a bearded man enters, nodding in their direction before taking a seat at the counter. Finn and Nash exchange a signal.
“I should talk to Lars about the trail conditions,” Finn says, sliding out of the booth. “He was up in the Peaks last week scouting.”
Nash rises too. “Need to ask him about the game movement he noticed up there.”
As the brothers approach the man at the counter, May emerges with three plates of golden pancakes. She sets them on our table, notices the empty seats, and clicks her tongue. “Men,” she mutters, sliding into the booth across from me. “Always business before pancakes.” She pushes a plate toward me. “Eat up before they get cold. Best enjoyed with real maple syrup and a side of truth.”
I raise an eyebrow as I drizzle syrup over the stack. “A side of truth?”
May’s shrewd eyes fix on me. “Why are you here,Lena Kensington? And don’t give me that PR rehabilitation nonsense.”
I take my first bite of pancake. The flavor bursts on my tongue—tangy, buttery perfection. “These are incredible,” I admit.
“Mmm,” May hums with satisfaction. “My sourdough starter is over a hundred years old,” she says with pride. “But we’re not talking about my pancakes.” She leans forward, elbows on the table. “What brings a Hollywood actress all the way to Port Promise? And don’t tell me it’s for a TV special.”
My fork pauses midway to my second bite. “My agent arranged this whole thing after I had a public meltdown on set.”
“And of all places, you agreed to Alaska?” May asks, one eyebrow raised.
I set down my fork. “I threw a champagne flute at my director. It made national news. My agent says this nature special will help people view me as more than ‘that crazy actress who lost it.’”
“And you believed him?” May asks, not unkindly.
“What choice do I have?” The words come out more bitterly than I intend. “My career was finally getting back on track after years of being typecast as the sexy vampire girl, and I threw it all away in one moment of anger.”
May regards me, then nods as if confirming something. “This wilderness adventure might patch over your public image for a while, but it won’t solve anything real.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I say, crossing my arms.
“Only you know the answer to that question,” May says, rising from the booth as Finn and Nash return. “But I’ll tell you this—the mountains have a way of clearing your head. Might be what you need.”
Before I can respond, she turns to the men. “Yourpancakes are getting cold, boys. Lars can wait five minutes while you eat what I slaved over a hot griddle to make.”
Nash beams, sliding back into his side of the booth and immediately drenching his pancakes in syrup. “May’s sourdough waits for no man.”
Finn sits beside his brother, eyes shifting between May and me. “Everything alright?”
“Yep, fine,” I reply too quickly, focusing on my plate as May walks away. “May was sharing some local wisdom.”
The brothers eat with the efficiency of men accustomed to refueling rather than dining. Nash fills the silence with details about the equipment he’s brought—items with names I don’t recognize, but that sound alarmingly specialized for wilderness survival.
“We’ll need to do a gear check tonight,” Finn says between bites.
“I’ve packed everything you’ll need,” Nash replies. “Including a satellite phone, first aid kit, and a set of tents. One of them’s my best—barely used it last season.”
“Satellite phone?” I perk up. “So, we will have communication?”
“For emergencies,” Finn clarifies. “Not for checking your Instagram followers.”
I glare at him. “I wasn’t asking for social media purposes. I’d like some connection to the outside world in case something goes wrong.”
