“Are you ready?”

I look over at Maverick and shake my head. I know in this instance I’m supposed to nod and put on the brave face and say, yes, I’m ready.

But I’m not.

I take in a deep breath and look at the others.

I’m standing beside Maverick. Tony and Neil are on the other side of the river, waiting with the ropes. Sam is behind us. Hot pink pants ex-Army Sam, who is unfortunately dressed in a boring navy-blue rescue suit like the rest of us. He’s the newest member of our team, no longer a volunteer.

It’s April now and winter is officially over. The snow at lower elevations has melted and as a result, all the rivers are packed to the brim and overflowing.

We’re situated along the Queen’s River, the one that skirts along North Ridge, the one goes past Ravenswood Ranch, the one that Maverick’s mother died in. We’re at the end of it where the lake starts emptying out into it, a popular spot for swimmers and fisherman and tourists in the summer.

It’s also a popular spot to get swept away.

And that’s why we’re here.

We’re doing training for the spring and for the coming months, not just now when the river is swollen and raging brown from all the water run-off and melted snowpack, but in the summer when more lives will be at risk. When people put their guard down.

As part of North Ridge’s Search and Rescue, you never ever stop training and now our team is really stepping it up. We’re always on.

It’s not that it was never run as a tight ship. Maverick has done a great job and continues to do so. But after Tim’s death and Jace leaving, we all decided to put in the extra time and be extra vigilant. Because Neil was actually right. We’re all in this together and we should all be at the same caliber as Maverick. Just because he’s the official boss and leader, that doesn’t mean he’s much more than the man making the decisions. And lately, many of those decisions have been passed on to us.

It’s nice, feeling like you’re not just a member but part of a family and one that shares responsibilities, who decides our fate together.

So when we had a meeting last week and I told everyone that I wasn’t feeling confident with my river rescue skills, we made plans to come out here and get the experience. Not just for me, but for everyone.

We’re learning to rescue ourselves.

And now, here, it’s my turn to go into the water. Neil just did it and so I should be able to as well. Drowning isn’t something I’ve really thought about, especially since so much of the work I’ve done in the past was winter only, but now that I’m staring at the river, I have no idea how I’m going to get across alive.

“You can do it,” Maverick says, his hand on my shoulder. “Trust me. Trust yourself. Trust all of us.”

I nod, shake out my arms, trying to displace the nerves. “Okay.”

I pick up the rope and with one hand on it, head into the water. There’s a carabiner clipped from my suit’s harness to the rope, so just in case I let go and the river attempts to take me away, I’m not going anywhere. It’s really all about learning to go into the water, to feel the rocks beneath, read the water and adjust to it.

I take my time, though I know in a real rescue, I would be hurrying. The suits we are wearing are like thick wetsuits of Gore-Tex and we resemble a hazmat team, but even so, the water is so cold it bites into me. My lungs are airless. Everything hurts.

“You can do it,” Tony calls from the other side. “Easy does it.”

But the moment he says that, the river bed slopes and my feet start to slip and the water is too strong and it knocks me down. I yell and fall into the water, my hands going up, trying to grab the rope that is straining, yanking at my waist.

“Hold on,” I hear someone yell but it’s hard to keep my head above water. The rope is twisting and spinning every which way and it’s hard to know what direction I’m facing, it’s like being in an ice-cold washing machine.

Focus, I tell myself. Don’t panic. Focus. You’ll be fine. Find your feet, find which way is up. Conserve your energy, get upright, get moving.

I say these things, trying to calm myself down. It takes some time but my body starts to respond. My head and shoulders are above the water now, I’m gasping for air, I have one hand wrapped around the line and my feet are kicking behind me, just trying to keep my body in a stable position.

And then Maverick is beside me.

Rooted like a tree.

The river flows around him.

He’s grabbing me just under the shoulders as we are taught to do and he slowly but surely takes me to a part of the river where the current isn’t raging and drags me out. I try and help, of course, kicking while being as pliable as possible, but he’s really doing all the work.

Now we’re up on the other river bank and I’m on my knees in mud and damp grass, trying to breathe.

“You did good, kid,” Mav says, kneeling beside me, one hand on my back.

I wheeze and look up at him, shivers rolling through my body. “I didn’t do good. You call that good? I was practically drowning and you waltzed in there and fished me out like a bear with a salmon.”

He chuckles. His smile lights up his face. He’s at his most beautiful when he’s outside and there are trees and mountains behind him and natural light. The sky, the earth. He’s at home here in the elements. And I’m at home with him.

“Well at least Mav is up to date with his skills,” Neil says to me with a smirk. I had just watched him cross the river with no problem, so I can’t even say anything to shoot him down.

Then we watch as Sam goes across. Like me, he’s a bit rusty, and the water sweeps him away too. But he has a lot more line, about a hundred feet’s worth, so he goes where the water takes him, right into a whirlpool that’s building among some fallen trees and reeds.

“Well, who wants to rescue Sam?” Mav asks us.

I shake my head, carefully getting to my feet with his help. “I think I need to play victim for today.”

Tony and Neil exchange looks.

“I just got warm again,” Tony says by way of explanation.

Neil sighs. “Fine.”

“A little help here!” Sam yells at us from the river as he spins around and around. “I’m going to start vomiting soon.”

“I’m coming!” Neil says, clipping himself onto the line and going back into the water.

“You’ll get better,” Mav says to me, taking my hand and squeezing it.

“I hope so,” I tell him. “I have a good teacher.”

I’m so tempted to kiss him right now, to do more than just hold his hand. But we’ve made an agreement and one that I’m sure William Mapother at HR approves of, even though we haven’t heard much from him after all that.

It’s no secret to the team, to the town, to anyone, that Mav and I are in a serious relationship with each other. But we also know that when it comes to the job, to the work, we’re strictly professional. At North Ridge SAR, we are team members and co-workers and that’s it.

Outside of work, we’re everything to each other.

When we’re all done at the river and finished with work for the day, the two of us head back to Maverick’s place to dry off and get warm by the fire. I’ve been spending most of my time off with him here and Fox has gotten so used to it, he usually treats us like a piece of furniture and vice versa.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” I ask Mav after we come back from walking Chewie.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, smiling again. I swear all we do around each other is smile like a bunch of fools in love. Which we are. The only time we’re not smiling is when we’re fucking each other and that’s a different kind of joy all together.

“A surprise? One of Maverick’s famous dishes?”

I’ve had the stew, pancakes, and there’s even been a mac and cheese dish so far. But I’m game for anything new.

“Kind of,” he says. “We have to wait until dark though.”

With spring here in full bloom, it doesn’t get dark until seven p.m. now, so we sit around the house, talking with Fox and playing with Chewie until then.

“Dress warm,” Mav tells me and I watch as he brings out a picnic basket from the kitchen.

“We’re having a picnic?” I ask. It’s been a dry, clear day but it’s not all that warm either, especially at night. There’s still snow and late skiing further up on the slopes.

“Maverick’s famous picnic,” he says, wiggling his brows. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m bringing the stew too.”

So I dress warm, bring some thick blankets to sit on and we get in his truck. We head all the way to the trailhead at Chairman’s Peak and then use our headlamps to hike about twenty minutes up to one of the lookouts.

He quickly sets up the area, placing the blankets on a gentle slope with an unobstructed view of the town far below, then the river and the mountains on the other side. It’s a clear night and the moon casts only a faint glow. The sky is an explosion of stars.

He spoons out some stew from a container, still warm and we settle down beside each other, eating and drinking wine and taking in the dark sky.

It’s beyond romantic. Just us and the elements. Just us and the world.

“Hey,” he says, when we’ve just finished eating and he’s putting our bowls back inside the picnic basket. “I have a question to ask you.”

But then he trails off. The most awestruck expression comes across his face, his focus beyond me, to the north.

I turn around and look to see what’s stolen his attention.

I gasp loudly.

The entire sky is awash with northern lights.

I’ve never seen them before.

It’s the most spectacular, humbling and mind-blowing sight I’ve ever seen.

Washes of electric green, white, even purple, glowing and moving from the tips of the mountains, stretching up in waves toward the top of the night sky. They move like flames, dancing in a supernatural element, a light show that seems wholly unreal.

I’m entranced. I feel their glow inside me, buoyant.

Magical.

“John,” I whisper to him, grabbing his hand. At this altitude, in this cold air, I feel like I might float off into space and he’s the only thing grounding me. “Did you know this would happen?”

“I had hoped,” he whispers because it feels like anything loud might scare the lights away. “But I had no idea it would be like this.”

We lapse into silence, holding onto each other, our eyes glued to the auroras as they stretch across the sky, this land, this place that has my heart.

I don’t know how long we sit here in the darkness, watching them. Hours, maybe. I don’t feel cold, I only feel love.

Then the lights fade away like a symphony, growing fainter and fainter until it’s hard to believe they were ever there to begin with.

“That was amazing,” I whisper, turning to face him, afraid to break the spell.

“Super, Natural British Columbia,” he says, repeating the province’s logo. He runs his fingers into my hair. “Super, Natural Riley Clarke. The way those lights made you feel, like you believed in magic again? That’s how you make me feel. Every damn day.”

I blink at him, feeling tears come to my eyes. I swear to God I’ve never been a crier but this man has a way of getting deep inside me, flattening my defenses. With him, I have none. With him, I feel everything, good and bad. The peace, the chaos. I relish it all.

“Riley,” he says, his hand at the back of my neck. He stares deep into my eyes with such intensity I feel stripped bare, like he’s seeing my soul and I can see his. “I know we haven’t known each other that long in the grand scheme of things but I love you more than I can say…will you…will you live with me?”

I balk, break into a smile. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. Really. Not at the chalet, not with Fox. I mean, we’ll buy our own place. We’ll make a home together.”

Every cell in my body feels like magic now, like those lights just keep on dancing, out of the sky and into my veins. I can’t believe it. But something has never felt so right.

“Of course I will,” I tell him, my hand at his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. “I would love to live with you. Yes, absolutely.” I kiss him. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Unreal,” he says back to me, smiling against my mouth. “But you’re real, aren’t you? And you’re mine.”

“Always,” I tell him, holding him tight.

We stay like that in an embrace, our bodies entwined, our chests rising and falling as one. Shooting stars fall above our heads, satellites spin, the trees rustle with the night breeze. Super, Natural us.

“So when do you want to start house hunting?” I ask after a bit.

“Tomorrow if you like,” he says. Then he sighs dramatically.

“What?”

He rubs at his face. “Now I owe Fox five hundred dollars.”