Page 38 of Wandering Wild

“And you?” Hawke asks, making me jolt. “You went to bat for Summer when the industry turned on her. You shared loudly how she’s not a liar and she would never risk damaging someone else’s career for the sake of attention, as many were claiming at the time. Have you had any blowback from defending her?”

“Nothing like what she’s faced.” I choose not to reveal how hard it’s also been for me to get an audition, since there are other factors that led to my own difficulties. “But, yes, it’s been challenging. We’ve both been labeled problematic, even by those who believe her but won’t risk supporting her. Regardless of our success withThe Lost Heirs, we’re tainted by association now.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Charlie says, holding her camping mug in a white-knuckled grip.

“Hollywood is anything but fair,” I say, before remembering the nano drones and cursing inwardly. But I spoke the truth, and I’m unsure if I would take it back even if I could.

“Do you regret it?” she asks, her eyes locked on mine. “Standing up for her?”

“I didn’t stand up for her—she stood up for herself, I just stood beside her,” I correct. “And no, not for one minute. I could never regret that. No matter the cost.”

Charlie leans backward, seemingly surprised. Then again, she knows all about my public image problem—and she’s smart enough to realize it began with Summer’s so-called scandal and only grew from there.

I lift my hands toward the fire, relishing the warmth as I say, leaving no room for doubt, “If my options are to support one of my closest friends when she needs me the most, or abandon her in order to protect my own career, then it’s a no-brainer for me. I love what I do, my career is everything, but the people I care about will always come first.Always.”

Charlie holds my gaze for a long moment, emotions swirling across her features. She doesn’t seem to know how to respond, but I don’t expect her to. I also desperately want everyone’s focus to leave me, since I feel as if I’ve given enough of myself tonight—morethan enough—so I turn back to Hawke and look between him and Bentley as I ask, “Speaking of people we care about, I’d love to hear how you two met.”

It’s Bentley who answers, “I saved his life.”

My eyebrows shoot upward. Even Charlie is visibly stunned.

“What happened?” she asks.

Bentley pulls his glasses off to clean them as he shares in his lulling English accent, “I was visiting a rural village in Somalia while filming a documentary for the British Red Cross, when this one”—he bumps Hawke affectionately with his shoulder—“comes crawling out of nowhere, covered in blood, and rambling feverishly about how he’d found ‘the perfect place’ to open a new camp for troubled youths. I had some field medic training, so while all the doctors were busy helping the locals with a viral outbreak, I was stuck nursing him back to health.” Bentley grins and shakes his head. “He was a terrible patient, kept saying he was perfectly fine despite having his insides nearly ripped out by a lion. Such a fool.”

The fondness in Bentley’s expression is returned by Hawke, who chuckles and says, “Iwasperfectly fine. Fully stitched up and ready to go.”

He raises the hem of his thermal shirt to reveal four scarred claw marks slashed across his lower abdomen. I noticed them when we were fishing in the river, but I wince now that I know how he got them.

“You were attacked by a lion?” Charlie breathes, her violet eyes wide.

“A lioness. And it was a freak accident.” Hawke waves it away like it was nothing. “I was scouting the area for my next camp location, and I made the rookie mistake of not paying attention to my surroundings. She was with her cubs, so she perceived me as a threat and acted to protect them.”

Charlie grimaces, and I do the same.

“It worked out for the best, since I never would have met this one otherwise,” Hawke says, returning Bentley’s earlier shoulder bump. “I remained at the Red Cross camp with him until I was fully healed, and by then, he was done with his documentary, so I asked if he wanted to come with me to finish exploring the area, then continue on to see more of East Africa. He said yes, and he had all his camera gear with him, so he filmed a lot of what we did and saw—and the rest is, as they say, history.”

“That was the start ofHawke’s Wild World, even if we didn’t know it at the time.” Bentley smiles tenderly at his husband before finishing, “Everything that’s happened since then is all thanks to that lion.”

A gentle silence descends upon us in the wake of his words.

“That’s such a beautiful story,” Charlie says quietly. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“Your mother didn’t tell you?” Hawke asks, before adding, “You mentioned before we left that she’s a big fan of the show.”

The look on Charlie’s face—I can’t describe it, but it has me sitting up straighter, my forehead creasing with concern.

“No,” Charlie says slowly, hoarsely, as if that word is dredged from somewhere deep within her. “She—She didn’t tell me.”

Hawke seems to be waiting for her to say more, but her face is pale and her lips are pressed tightly together. She’s avoided almost all questions about her family today, even during the promo clips, so I jump in to change the topic, asking, “Do we want to know what’s ahead for us tomorrow, or is it better for our chances of sleep if we’re kept in the dark?”

The survivalist barks out a laugh. “You’ll have to wait and see.” He empties the dregs of his tea on the ground, before standing up and stretching. “I know it’s early, but we had a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer, so it’s a good idea to turn in soon.” With a playful grin, he warns, “We have a big ravine to cross in the morning, so rest up, because you’ll need all your energy.”

So much for him not telling us what’s ahead.

“When you say ‘cross,’ you mean we’re walking it, right?” Charlie asks. Silence meets her question, so she presses, “Right?”

Hawke stokes the fire, placing a few more thick logs on it before stepping back again. “Whatever you need to hear to help you sleep tonight, Charlie.”

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