Elliott’s producer instincts override his wounded pride. “Could be interesting. City starlet turns out to know her way around the wild. No one sees it coming.”
When we reach the basin, shadows stretch across the valley floor. Mountains rise around us, their peaks catching the waning sunlight. In two days, Finn will join us. The thought warms me.
“Let’s set up camp near the spring,” I suggest, careful not to sound commanding. “We’ll want easy access to water.”
Elliott hesitates, then nods. “Carlos, get the cameramen to capture some establishing shots of the basin. The light’s perfect right now.”
I lead the way to a level area near the spring but elevated enough to stay dry if it rains again. Carlos helps me examine the ground for rocks and depressions while the cameramen begin unpacking their equipment. Elliott watches from a short distance, consulting Finn’s map. I can almost see his mental calculations—weighing his pride against his desire for compelling footage.
“Need help setting up your tent?” I ask him casually.
“No, I’ve got it,” he replies, though the uncertainty in his voice suggests otherwise.
Ten minutes later, I find him wrestling with a tangle of tent poles, his face flushed with frustration. “These things are designed by sadists,” he mutters, attempting to force a pole into a sleeve that’s not meant to receive it.
“May I?” I hold out my hand for the pole. Elliott surrenders it with a sigh. “Fine. Show me your grandmother’s ancient Appalachian tent-raising wisdom.”
“My grandmother slept under the stars or in a cabin she built herself,” I say, sorting out the poles. “This I learned from Finn, day one.”
“You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?” Elliott asks as I assemble his tent.
“Depends how pleasant you are for the rest of the trip.” I secure the rain fly with a final stake. “There. Rainproof, at least.”
“What about bears?” Elliott’s voice rises an octave. “Are there bears here?”
“I’m told there are bears everywhere in these mountains.”I enjoy his discomfort more than I should. “But they avoid humans unless we give them a reason not to.”
Elliott peers at the tree line. “What kind of reasons?”
“Food left out. Approaching their cubs. Standing between them and an escape route.” I pause for effect. “The usual.”
By the time the sun sinks behind the mountains, we’ve established camp. I remember Finn showing me how to secure our food supplies, and I try to reproduce what he did, using a high branch to suspend our provisions away from curious wildlife.
“My grandmother told me to be alert for bear signs,” I explain as I work. “Claw marks on trees. Overturned rocks. Droppings with berries or pine nuts.”
“Droppings?” one of the cameramen asks.
“Bear poop,” I clarify, unable to suppress a chuckle at his grimace. “That’s about the extent of my bear knowledge, I’m afraid.”
“Let’s talk about something else during dinner,” Elliott suggests, looking queasy.
While the others filter water and prepare our dehydrated meals, I walk the perimeter of our camp, searching for any signs of wildlife. I hear birds calling and the rustle of small animals in the underbrush. It reminds me of those summer evenings on Gram’s porch, listening to the forest sounds as darkness fell. Finn’s warnings about proper food storage echo in my mind. Out here, an improperly secured camp is an invitation to wildlife—particularly bears.
I’m examining some tracks in the mud near the spring when Carlos approaches. “Elliott wants to talk to you,” he says. “I think he’s coming around.”
I follow Carlos back to camp, where Elliott paces beside the unlit campfire area, clipboard in hand.
“There’s been a development,” he announces as I approach. “I’ve been considering our narrative options, and Ibelieve there’s a compelling story in your unexpected knowledge.”
“You don’t say.”
“The audience will respond to authenticity—your connection to nature revealed through this journey.” He gestured broadly. “We pivot from ‘fish out of water’ to ‘return to roots.’ It’s perfect.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m not interested in performing a role, Elliott—not even one closer to the truth.”
“I’m not asking you to perform. I’m asking you to share what you know on camera.” His eyes gleam with renewed ambition. “Show them a side of Lena Kensington they’ve never witnessed before.”
Carlos comes to stand beside me. “It could be good, Lena.”
