A SEAL's Struggle

by Cora Seton

  “Yes, I’m coming.” Maria was right; she needed to escape, if only for an hour or two.

  Chapter Three

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  Another day, another walk.

  Angus paced the familiar track down to Pittance Creek, keeping an eye on the path to avoid the worst of the mud as a light wind whistled through the trees. It was early March and unusually mild. After a rough winter, the snow had melted early, and spring was definitely in the air. Either he or Walker would marry midway through April. Whoever was left would marry before the show ended on June first.

  Time was ticking away fast, and he still had no idea how he’d force himself to wed a woman he didn’t love or what would happen when the show ended.

  When he rounded the last bend before the creek, he was surprised to see that someone was there before him.

  Avery Lightfoot.

  He supposed it made sense she’d be searching for solitude, too. She’d had it hard lately and had reasons of her own to escape the cameras and constant companionship of everyone else.

  “Hello,” he called out as he approached her, careful not to startle her. When she turned, he was discomfited to see her eyes were red. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “I’m glad you did. The last thing I need is to wallow in self-pity. I think I’ve been doing that long enough.”

  He wasn’t sure what comfort he could offer her, and in truth sometimes he wanted to give her a shake. Avery was in love with Walker. And Walker was in love with Avery. At this point it was sheer cussedness keeping them apart.

  It hurt when someone you loved didn’t see you the way you wanted to be seen, though. Walker had as good as accused Avery of stealing from him, and she wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. It was easy from Angus’s vantage point to call that stubbornness, but it probably felt different from hers.

  Don’t let him go, he wanted to tell her. He’d let Win go, not that he’d had much choice, and now he felt like some part of him had died.

  “It isn’t just Walker. It’s everyone,” she said as if she’d read his mind. “It’s all different now. I wish I’d never come in the first place.”

  “Are you still fighting with Riley, Nora and Savannah?”

  “I don’t know. Yes,” she added. “I am. I’m so angry at them. And they want me to simply forget how they acted. What if everyone they cared about turned on them and called them thieves? I’ve always been so loyal to them.”

  “In their defense…” She had secretly filmed a series called Stealing from SEALs, after all, and Clem had taken her footage and spliced it together in a way that emphasized the stealing and not its intended silliness. Avery hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but Clem certainly had.

  “It was supposed to be funny!” she exploded. “Since when does no one have a sense of humor?”

  “Since winter came.” It was true; as soon as winter had arrived at Base Camp, living together in close quarters had made things more difficult. Then the attacks on the community had started. Food had been stolen, equipment broken. Someone had let the bison out and left the greenhouse doors open when there was snow on the ground outside. Every last one of them lived with the constant fear that all their hard work would be snatched away. They were less than three months from winning this thing—or losing everything they’d struggled so hard to build.

  “We’re all under a lot of stress,” he added.

  She shot him a look. “I heard whoever picks the short straw tomorrow has to spend thirty days with a backup bride.”

  “If it’s Walker, you have nothing to worry about. He loves you.”

  “So much that he gave me a pair of mittens,” she said acidly and held them up. They were made of rabbit fur with beadwork at the cuffs. Probably a traditional design, Angus thought.

  “Those are nice.”

  “Dead animal things aren’t going to win me back.” She dropped her arm again.

  “Avery.” Angus didn’t know what to say to her. “Don’t drive away someone you care about.”

  “He’s already away. Don’t forget that other woman he’s promised to.”

  As if Angus or any of the rest of them could. Walker had never explained what that phrase meant and seemed to have done nothing to clear up the situation. Yet he made no bones about how much he loved Avery. Angus’s chest tightened. What a mess.

  “Anyway,” Avery said, more subdued, “maybe you’ll draw the short straw.”

  “Maybe,” he said shortly.

  “Maybe you’ll like the backup bride.”

  “Nah,” Angus said. He already knew he didn’t. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, lass. I’m spoiled for marriage. If I was meant to be happy, I’d have ended up with Win. As it is”—he shrugged dramatically, laying his Scottish accent on thick to belie the gravity of what he was saying—“when this is all over, I’ll be stuck in a loveless marriage.”

  Avery nodded. “I know what you mean. When this is all over, I’m going to end up alone.”

  “Here we are,” Maria said. “Watch your step.”

  Win followed her onto the front stoop of a tidy blue stucco bungalow with white shutters, stopping herself from rolling her eyes as two of her bodyguards took up their positions outside the front door, and a third made as if to come inside.

  “Please wait for me.” Win beckoned him back out, knowing full well the minute she shut the door, he’d circle around the back.

  “We should check the interior,” the man said.

  “The interior is fine. Please—wait outside.”

  They were still in San Mateo, but the neighborhood couldn’t be more different from Win’s. Here, the houses crowded together, with multiple cars parked in front of each, testament to the mix of tenants living together in order to afford the cost. She knew Maria, her husband and two daughters, along with Rosa and her two grown sons and several grandchildren, shared this house. She braced herself for cramped quarters, but once inside she found the place neat as a pin and inviting.

  “Have a seat.” Maria indicated the couch. “Let me put my things away. I’m sure Rosa is in the kitchen.”

  Rosa must have heard them, for she popped around the corner from the rear of the house and came forward with open arms. “Princess! I’m so glad Maria convinced you to come.”

  Win cringed at her childhood nickname but submitted to a hug gladly, although she wondered why Rosa thought she needed convincing. “Maria said she had something to tell me.”

  The women exchanged a glance. “Let me fetch you both some food first,” Rosa said. “I made a snack.”

  “If you see a strange man in the garden, it’s one of Win’s bodyguards,” Maria called after her. “Warn the girls, please?”

  “Of course. I’ll make enough for everyone.”

  Win smiled at Maria, knowing full well one of Rosa’s snacks was far more like a feast, and there would be enough if she’d brought ten bodyguards. She took a seat in the living room knowing she couldn’t stop her ex-nanny from serving her food and that Rosa wouldn’t stand for her trespassing in her kitchen. While they waited, she and Maria talked of Maria’s children, who were playing outside. Win wondered what they’d make of the serious men who were patrolling their yard.

  A half hour later, Win said, “I can’t eat another thing,” stopping Rosa from fetching her another empanada. “Maria will kill me if she has to alter my dress again tomorrow.”

  “You need fattening up,” Rosa said.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Maria muttered.

  “I’ve loved catching up with both of you, but I have to get going soon,” Win said quickly. “Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

  “Something we need to tell you,” Rosa said.

  The front door swung open again, and a woman in her late twenties rushed in. She had a cap of black hair and large, expressive brown eyes. “Rosa, who are those men outside? They weren’t going to let me in. I came to ask about—Oh, you have company. I’m sorry.” She marched forward purposefully, evidently qu
ite comfortable here, and introduced herself to Win. “I’m Lenore. Lenore Henderson. I help out at the community garden, like Rosa.”

  Of course. Both Rosa and Maria were green thumbs, and Win knew they were very active in their neighborhood.

  “She does far more than that,” Rosa said. “She’s a community organizer, for one thing. She led the push to loosen restrictions on accessory suites in San Mateo.”

  “All part of a day’s work,” Lenore said brightly. She blinked. “Wait, I know you,” she said to Win and cocked her head. “Don’t I?”

  Maria laughed. “You should. She’s your opponent’s daughter.”

  “Opponent?” Win looked from one to the other.

  “Win Lisle? Well, that explains those hacks patrolling out front. I love you on Base Camp. What happened? Why’d you leave?”

  What happened indeed, Win thought bleakly. I lost my chance to be with the man I love. “Things didn’t work out,” she said.

  “That’s too bad. I think Base Camp is phenomenal. Inspiring, even.”

  “You’re the one who’s inspiring,” Rosa told her. “Lenore’s running for Congress against your father,” she told Win. “She’s fighting for federal fair housing legislation. Investment in renewable energy. Lowered tuition at state schools. An end to predatory lending practices.”

  “Sounds like a great platform,” Win said weakly. “I’ll vote for you.”

  Lenore laughed. “You don’t have to lie. I know you’ll back your father.”

  “No, I won’t,” Win said sharply, then dropped her gaze to the floor when the other women eyed her curiously. “I wasn’t lying; I will vote for you if you mean what you say.”

  Lenore took another look at her. “The rumor I heard was you came home because your father’s backers demanded it. Seems like if you’re willing to do that, it’s because you support what he stands for.”

  Win lifted her chin. “I came back to help my mother through her cancer treatments. She’s supported me all my life.”

  “Hmm.” Lenore shrugged. “I’ve been supporting myself since I was sixteen. That means I get to have my opinion and my parents get to have theirs, you know? And they don’t sic a bunch of babysitters on me.” She nodded toward the door to indicate the bodyguards outside.

  Easy for her to say, Win thought, but she wasn’t going to explain her past to a stranger. “I appreciate the way my parents provide for my security.”

  “I appreciate the way my parents value my independence. Security isn’t worth much if it comes with a leash.” Lenore turned back to Rosa as Win absorbed that blow. “I was wondering if you still had those pieces of cardboard we found outside the appliance shop. I need to make some signs over at the garden.”

  “Of course.” Rosa led her toward the back of the house. Win found Maria watching her kindly.

  “She didn’t mean to insult you,” she said softly. “Lenore says what she thinks.”

  “Is she really running against my dad? She’ll never win.”

  “But she’ll get people talking about issues they haven’t been talking about much,” Maria said. “This is a progressive community, but it’s also a wealthy one for the most part. It costs so much to live here you can bring in six figures and still feel the pinch of a high electric bill.” Maria lifted her hands. “You think we’d cram so many of us in one house if we had another choice? It takes all our combined income to pay the bills. We need people like Lenore to speak up for us—for all of us.”

  Win nodded. “I wish I was like her.”

  “You could be. You were when you were on that show. I watched every episode. Mija, why would you leave a man like Angus and come home? Is it because of the baby?” She nodded at Win’s stomach.

  “The baby is Angus’s,” Win confessed, “But my mom was so sick. She needed me—”

  A strange look came over Maria’s face, and Win rushed to add, “You know how afraid my parents are when I don’t have my security team. Mom couldn’t stand it on top of being ill.” She didn’t mention the way they’d threatened to cut her off. That was too embarrassing.

  Maria’s expression softened. “I’m sure there were times when you were frightened, too, away from your family’s security detail.”

  “A few,” Win admitted. “Which was silly, wasn’t it? Living among all those military men.”

  “Mija, have you ever questioned…?” Maria trailed off. “I don’t know how best to say what I have to say. I’m afraid I brought you here to tell you something unpleasant.”

  “Go ahead.” Win had never seen Maria looking so unsure of herself, and it unnerved her.

  “Rosa and I talked this over, and we agreed you should know, although we wish someone else had told you. Since Rosa doesn’t work for your family anymore, we only learned about your mother’s illness from watching your show some months back.”

  “Base Camp?” Win nodded. When she’d left suddenly, her letter of explanation had been read on air, much to her chagrin.

  “We thought you were using your mother’s illness as an excuse to leave. We thought maybe you and Angus had argued. Your letter didn’t sound like you at all.”

  “I know.” Win shook her head. “I couldn’t let Angus think there’d be a chance I’d be back in time to marry him. I knew if I told him about the baby, he’d think he had to come with me and let everyone else down. I couldn’t put him in the position of having to make a choice, so I chose for him.”

  “A man likes to make his own choices,” Maria said reprovingly. “But what’s done is done. The thing is…” She trailed off again. Win looked up to find Rosa standing in the entryway to the hall and Lenore cutting across the living room to the front door.

  “Thanks, Rosa,” she called from the entryway. They heard the door open.

  Rosa came into the room and took up the story. “The thing is, we wanted to pay a call on your mother. To bring her flowers and a card. She has offered us so much employment over the years, and we felt bad for her. I rang up the housekeeper. Asked if we could come. She told us your mother was gone for a few days, getting a treatment.”

  “Yes, she’s been treated at a private clinic, of course. She’s sometimes gone three to four days at a time,” Win explained.

  “It’s just… I have a cousin who works at the Piermont Spa in Colorado Springs,” Maria said slowly. “It’s very exclusive. Very private. Celebrities go to unwind when they don’t want the press to know their whereabouts. The staff all sign NDAs. I talked to Raul last week.”

  “And?” Win wasn’t sure why she was flooded with misgivings. Maybe it was the grave expressions on both women’s faces.

  “We were talking about our lives and our work. I mentioned your mother’s illness. How sick she must be if you’d come home to nurse her. Raul asked what was wrong with her. He’d seen her recently, and she looked terrific. Of course, I asked him when he’d seen your mother.”

  “And?” Win prompted, not sure she wanted to know more.

  “It was the same week we’d tried to visit her. Your mother was at the Piermont Spa playing tennis, swimming, doing yoga.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  “I don’t understand.” That didn’t make sense at all. It was only recently Vienna had begun to get out of bed and then only for an hour or two at a time.

  “Raul said he’d overheard the nutritionist arguing with your mother about the cleanse she was on. The nutritionist said she was far too thin. Your mother said that was just the look she was going for. Raul thought it was kind of funny. You can never be too rich or too thin, that kind of thinking.”

  “Cleanse? She was getting chemo treatments. She certainly couldn’t have been playing tennis. She could barely walk back then. He must have the dates wrong.”

  “I don’t think so. Mija, I don’t think she’s sick at all.”

  Win let out a breath as if she’d been punched. Not sick? “But you saw her today.”

  “She did look very thin,” Maria admitted. “She also seemed very deter
mined to keep you home. She’s hoping you’ll marry Leif, after all.”

  As the implication sank in, Win’s thoughts reeled. Could Vienna have… faked cancer? Just to get her to leave Base Camp?

  No. “You can’t be right. Maybe Raul saw someone who looks like my mom.”

  Rosa took out her phone. “Cousin Raul sent me this. He shouldn’t have taken it, of course, but he’d planned to send it to me to show what a small world we live in. Then he got busy and forgot all about it until I called him last week and mentioned your mother.”

  Win looked at the date-stamped photo of Vienna making an overhand serve in a pristine white tennis skirt, her ponytail swinging with the vigorous movement.

  She remembered that week. She’d been home only a few days when her mother was whisked off by limousine to the clinic for a treatment and refused to let Win accompany her. Win had spent most of the time her mother was gone working feverishly to get through the list of tasks Vienna had set her, alternately crying about leaving Angus behind and pleading with God to heal her mother’s illness.

  “Is this real?” Win stared at the photograph, trying to make sense of it.

  Maria nodded. “I’m sorry. I asked Raul to make some inquiries, to see if somehow his information could be wrong. Raul knows everyone who works at the spas, you know? He’s not the only one who’s seen your mother up and about. She’s acting sick when she’s home, but she’s not.”

  “But… how could she spend six months faking an illness? Does my father know?”

  Rosa shrugged, but the pity in her eyes told Win she thought he must.

  “Why?” Win couldn’t fathom it.

  “Can’t you think of a reason?” Maria asked softly.

  Of course Win could. “My father’s reelection campaign,” she said slowly. Neither of her parents had made any bones about the way her participation in Base Camp was offending her father’s financial backers.

  Had her mother faked this whole thing to force her off Base Camp and get her home, where they could control her? She remembered the strain in her father’s voice when he’d called to report her mother’s illness. The way it had cracked when he spoke of losing his wife.