A SEAL’s Desire

by Seton, Cora

  “All the bison present and accounted for?” he asked when he drew near.

  “Far as I can tell.” Avery shrugged. “I haven’t really counted them.”

  “I figured you had a lot on your mind.” When Avery didn’t answer, he went on. “I think you should give Walker another chance.” Might as well get to the heart of it. “That fan obviously means a lot to him and his family, and he saw you steal it on screen. What was he supposed to think? Walker cares about you, but his feelings got hurt. He thought you set out to mock him deliberately.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Avery said determinedly. “He should’ve known I would never do that. I know how important his heritage is to him.”

  “Maybe Walker’s been hurt before like that,” Greg pointed out. “Maybe kids at school made fun of him. We all carry wounds that make us judge each other more harshly than we should.”

  “It’s more than that,” Avery said. “I’m sick of being played for a fool. Months ago, Walker said he has a prior engagement. He’s never cleared that up, and he’s never done anything to get out of it. And I’ve just stood here and taken it. I’ve played second fiddle to a ghost. I’m done with that. I’m moving on. Maybe I’ll ask Boone to find me a backup bride.” She waved a hand. “Backup husband, whatever.”

  Greg was heartened by her small attempt at a joke. Avery was a fighter. She might look sweet, and she might be silly sometimes, but she was determined, too. Harris was right; she wouldn’t quit Base Camp even if her heart was breaking. If Walker let her go, he was the fool.

  “What about Riley and Savannah? What about Nora, for that matter?” he asked Avery. “I think it’s sad to let those friendships fade away over a misunderstanding.”

  Avery shook her head. “I’m not ready to talk about this,” she said.

  “Do you plan to stay?” Greg asked her.

  “Yes,” Avery said firmly. “I made a commitment to Base Camp, and I’m going to see it through no matter how awful everyone else is to me.”

  “Then you’ll have to face them someday,” Greg pointed out.

  “Someday I will,” Avery said. “But not today. I think for now I’m going to let the future alone. Let it take care of itself for a change, without me worrying about it.”

  “I’m glad you’re going to stay. Base Camp wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  For a moment Avery’s determined veneer cracked, and true anguish shone through. He wished there was more he could do to help.

  “Thanks” was all she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. She turned back to the bison, her eyes brimming, and he left her there reluctantly. Maybe he needed to talk to Walker next.

  He didn’t see the man that afternoon, however. At dinner there were too many people—and film crew members—around to get him alone. Greg supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when after dinner Boone and Riley moved to the front of the room. Riley was beaming, and he had a feeling he knew what they were about to say.

  Renata was sitting with Avery and Eve across the room, in solidarity with her heartbroken friend. She folded her arms over her chest as she waited for Boone and Riley’s announcement.

  “Thanks for giving us a minute of your time,” Boone said. He kept an arm around Riley’s waist, as if he never wanted to let her go. “Riley, take it away.”

  “You all know I miscarried last year, so I didn’t want to say anything, but I just can’t wait anymore. I’m pregnant! I’m eight weeks along!”

  Everyone leaped up at once to gather around the happy couple. Renata, too, although she stayed on the outskirts of the group. Greg moved to her side.

  “Boone and Riley deserve this, don’t you think?”

  Renata nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve been hoping this would happen.”

  They offered Boone and Riley their congratulations, and everyone lingered in the bunkhouse. Savannah played a bit at the old upright piano, and conversation buzzed around the room.

  “That’s six of us pregnant now!” he heard Addison say. “And Savannah already had Jacob. Fulsom will have to agree we’ve met that requirement, at least.”

  “We’ve nearly met them all,” Eve said. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Curtis warned her. “We’ve still got a few dyed-in-the-wool bachelors to marry off.” Greg could tell he’d meant it as a joke, but the mood of the room instantly dimmed. Who would Walker marry if Avery wouldn’t have him? His mystery woman?

  That would make things awkward around here.

  A minute later, Angus came to find Greg. “Guard duty. We might as well head out now.”

  “Sure thing.”

  They were silent as they pulled on their outdoor gear and made their way out of the bunkhouse, but as they tramped down the track toward the barn and stables, Angus peered at him curiously.

  “Renata seems… different… lately. Preoccupied. And I don’t mean about Avery.”

  “She’s obsessed with money,” Greg said. A light wind brushed his face. Overhead, clouds still covered the sky. The quiet, cold landscape had a stark beauty all its own, but Greg was more than ready for spring. Someday this TV show would be over and they could all get back to living their lives. They’d be able to stop worrying about how the cameras would document their decisions.

  If Base Camp was still standing.

  Back in June the whole thing had seemed like a fun adventure, a chance to reconnect with Renata and see if he still felt the same way about her after all the years that had passed since they’d met before. Now it felt like one of the endless, slogging marches through the rain he’d taken when he was in boot camp.

  “What makes you say that?” Angus asked. He seemed to be struggling with his own thoughts, and Greg couldn’t remember the last time he’d cracked a joke or put on a strong accent.

  “Every time I turn around she’s in some contest or other with Clem. Betting money—big money.”

  “Maybe she’s bored.” Angus seemed to realize what he’d said. “Not that you’re boring. She’s used to being in charge, though. Directing things. How’s she spending her days?”

  “Helping Avery,” Greg admitted.

  “Why aren’t you spending them with her?”

  It was a damn good question. “I keep trying. She keeps keeping me at a distance. Most of the time.”

  “Try harder. Surprise her a little. Keep her on her toes.”

  Greg imagined surprising Renata. Imagined ducking when she gave him a strong right hook.

  “Not sure that’s the best idea.” But at least he could see the humor in it. That was something.

  “Get her away from Base Camp,” Angus suggested.

  Greg remembered the fun they’d had in the truck, and his smile grew. “That’s a better idea.” He’d love to be alone with Renata again. “What about you? How are you doing these days?”

  Angus shrugged. “How do you think?”

  “No word from Win?”

  “No word,” Angus confirmed. “She made it clear we were over.”

  Greg remembered the day Win had left. He’d never seen a man so heartbroken. Hoped that wouldn’t be him in a few weeks.

  His fingers clenched in his gloves, and he determined to not let Renata slip away from him. He was going to spend each and every day of the next two or so weeks with her and convince her they were meant to be together. He didn’t see why she needed convincing after their encounter in the truck, but he’d do it anyway. He loved every little thing about Renata—

  Except her need to goad Clem and bet large sums of money in contests with him.

  “She underestimates Clem.”

  “Is that possible? The guy’s an idiot.”

  “He is, but idiots like to go for the jugular when they’re pushed. Besides, he wants to stay director of Base Camp.”

  “Then give her a better alternative,” Angus said. “Renata doesn’t want to direct TV shows.”

  Greg met his gaze, surprised. “How do you know that?”


  “Because Renata’s one of the most ruthlessly ambitious women I’ve ever met. TV isn’t big enough for her.”

  Was that true? Greg wasn’t sure. She’d talked about Hollywood but also about starting over and doing something entirely different. He hadn’t been lying when he said he knew she wanted a family. She’d already done so much in her career, and she was in her thirties. Lots of women he knew chose that time of life to start their families. What did Renata really want?

  She’d mentioned wanting to change everything. Did that mean she wanted to direct something new—or stop directing altogether? Did she simply want out of Montana?

  Or would she be happy to marry and settle down?

  What did she have to accomplish before she could be with him?

  “Why does she need more money?” Greg asked out loud. “Fulsom’s got to be paying her well. She doesn’t have any family. She doesn’t have a mortgage, that I know about. No expenses the show doesn’t cover. Why gamble?”

  “Most people do it for the thrill.”

  They reached the barn, and Angus opened the door. Inside, all was quiet. They did a thorough check and met outside again, heading for the stables.

  “Maybe she’s just trying to get back at Clem,” Angus went on. “Trying to humiliate him by taking his money.”

  “When she loses, she’ll be the one humiliated.” And that would make her even pricklier than she was already. More committed to taking Clem down.

  “If she loses.” When Greg turned to him, he added. “Renata’s a smart cookie. I doubt she makes bets she doesn’t intend to win.”

  “We all intend to win our bets.”

  They checked out the stables and the chicken coop, then headed for the pasture where the herd was.

  “Renata’s no fool,” Angus said again as they walked on together.

  “But Clem’s bad to the core,” Greg countered. “I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt her. Really hurt her.”

  “There’s too many of us around for him to get away with hurting her,” Angus pointed out. They reached the split rail fence that defined the bison herd’s pasture. Greg scanned the snowy landscape, looking for the large, shaggy beasts.

  “That’s what people always think,” he said. “Safety in numbers. It never occurs to them that the numbers make the predator safe, too.”

  Angus didn’t answer. Greg realized his attention was on the pasture. He scanned it again, looking for the—

  “Greg, where are the bison?” Angus asked.

  “Oh, hell.”

  “They’re gone?” Boone asked when Angus came rushing back into the bunkhouse with his news. “All of them?”

  Renata moved closer to better hear the answer.

  “All of them,” Angus confirmed. “We need everyone. They’re heading for the highway near as we can tell, and someone’s going to get killed if they come zooming around a corner and run into one on the road. Greg’s still out there tracking them.”

  “Why are they heading for the highway?” Savannah spoke up, baby Jacob in her arms. She’d been nursing him when Angus burst in. Renata had been chatting with her.

  “Don’t know,” Angus said shortly. “Maybe they were being herded. We saw tracks—tire tracks—and followed them far enough to spot the herd in the distance. Didn’t see any vehicles, though. Whoever it was got the bison running and took off.”

  “They could still be around somewhere,” Renata said. “Greg’s out there alone.”

  “Which is why we need to get out there, too. Kai, Anders, Curtis, take the trucks and head out toward the highway. We can use them to turn the bison around. The rest of you men get on a horse. Avery, you and the others call for backup. Get every rancher you can think of. We’ll need everyone to help when we get those bison back here.”

  Avery already had her phone out. “I’ll call the Mathesons. They have experience with bison.”

  “I’ll call the Halls,” Savannah said. “Nora, call Two Willows.”

  “Will do!”

  “We need to film this,” William said as the men rushed for the door. Riley looked like she’d follow, but Boone said something to her and laid a hand on her belly momentarily. Riley huffed out a frustrated breath but stayed put. Renata knew she was an excellent horsewoman; she must have wanted to ride out, too.

  “Obviously,” Clem snapped. “Get in the SUV.”

  “SUV?” Renata said. “All the action will be on horseback before the bison get to the road.”

  “I’m sure as hell not riding out on some horse in the dark with a bunch of overgrown hell-creatures running around,” Clem said. He strode off with William and Ed, leaving the rest of them behind.

  Renata turned to Byron. “Any chance you know how to ride a horse?”

  He nodded. “Been riding since I was five.”

  “Seriously? And you never thought to mention that until—” She broke off. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were trailing the men of Base Camp, riding cautiously over the snowy landscape. Byron hadn’t been kidding that he knew his way around a horse, and Renata was grateful he’d been there to help her saddle up the mare assigned to her and mount it. She’d taken riding lessons briefly as a child, at one of the better foster situations she’d found herself in, and had other chances over the years to ride but was far from expert at it. Byron stuck close, one hand on the reins, the other on a small video camera, filming when he could.

  The young cameraman had grown more confident in the months he’d been working at Base Camp, and Renata was struck by how he was establishing the setting for this segment without having to be told. Looking back, she realized he’d grown used to her way of doing things and often got started filming before she even had to tell him what to do. His dislike of Clem was easy to see, but he’d been as professional as possible around the man.

  “You’re a credit to the team,” she told him now.

  Byron lowered the camera and turned to her in surprise.

  “I’ll be sure to pass that on to Fulsom,” she went on. “You’re doing a good job.”

  “Thanks,” he said. After a moment, he raised the camera again. Thank goodness; she didn’t know what else she’d say to him. She wasn’t used to handing out compliments in her role as director.

  A shout ahead of them signaled that someone had seen the bison. The group picked up its pace, Renata doing her best to keep up with them, Byron riding by her side. Peering through the darkness, she spotted a dark shape far in front of them, and then another.

  Walker slowed his horse until they caught up to him.

  “Herd’s unpredictable. We’ll have to swing them around, urge them back the way they’ve come.” He pointed to a rise of ground covered with short wiry shrubs. “There. Keep out of the way.”

  “Got it,” Byron said before she could. He swerved off in the direction of the mound, and Renata followed him, exasperated. It was one thing to anticipate her orders, another to think he could read her mind.

  “It’s a good spot,” she said grudgingly a few minutes later, however.

  “Should we dismount?” Byron asked. “I could get a steadier shot.”

  “I don’t think so. We might need to move fast.” She could imagine the bison would want to skirt this impediment in the landscape if they came back this way, but they might not, too.

  Byron nodded, fiddled with the camera and hunched his shoulders against the cold breeze. It frustrated Renata to watch the rest of the men peel off after the bison, the thuds of their horses’ hooves fading into the distance. What if they ended up going in a completely different direction? They could wait out here for ages and never get a shot.

  “I bet you’ve been on lots of interesting locations,” Byron said.

  “Some,” she admitted. “There’s always a lot of waiting when there’s something good to film. Doesn’t always pan out, though.”

  “I suppose not. Thanks,” he added. “For what you said earlier. And for hiring me in the first
place.”

  “Ed recommended you.”

  “But you didn’t have to say yes. You took a chance on me. I appreciate it.”

  Renata thought back to those early days when she’d assembled the team for Base Camp. Byron was right; when she’d first seen his résumé she’d shaken her head and determined to tell Ed to find someone else to round out his crew, but then she’d taken a second look, noticed all the extracurricular activities Byron had participated in at college. He’d come from a modest Midwestern background and gone to school at a little-known liberal arts school in Illinois, where it looked like he’d availed himself of every opportunity offered to him.

  He was a go-getter, just like she’d been.

  “You were a good bet,” she said. “I thought—”

  Byron pointed. “There. They’re coming!” He lifted his camera and focused on a shadow sweeping toward them that soon developed into a thundering herd. A tremor under her feet grew into full-out shaking of the ground as the massive beasts hurtled toward her.

  “Byron—”

  “Hell.”

  Byron swiveled on his saddle, but it was clear there was nowhere for them to go.

  “Hold tight,” she said. She hoped like heck her horse didn’t bolt. Hoped Byron’s didn’t either.

  Byron whooped as the first of the bison sped past, and then another and then another, the herd parting around the rise of ground like the sea around a boulder near shore. Exhilaration soon replaced terror in her heart, and Renata whooped, too, watching the beasts flow around them and stream back toward Base Camp and their home territory.

  “Do you think they’ll stop when they get there?” Byron called over the din, still filming.

  “God, I hope so!” Otherwise Base Camp was lost.

  A rider flashed by in the midst of the herd. Walker, if she wasn’t mistaken. There was Jericho. Boone. Clay.

  “It’s the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!” Byron shouted. “That’s what Riley calls them.”

  Renata remembered that from the early days of the show. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten, but so much had changed since then.

  Suddenly Greg was with them, his horse galloping up the rise of ground through the scrubby bushes to join them. “You all right?” Greg called, leaning from his saddle to snatch a kiss. His gelding circled around, snorting and huffing in the cold air, eager to get back to the chase.