by Cora Seton
Someone whistled.
“Well, hell,” Brody said when the episode ended and quiet descended on the room. “Guess you got me.” He took off his hat, looked at it and settled it on his head again. “Look a little foolish now.”
Someone gave a sob, and Jess, who’d been in the back of the room with the rest of the crew, rushed out of the bunkhouse.
Avery held her breath as Brody watched Jess’s flight.
“I did marry Avery,” he said, turning in his seat to face the rest of them. “Hell, she was cute and sad and lonely, and I thought, why not?”
“What did you think in the morning?” Avery stood up. “When you woke up early and skedaddled?”
A camera crew was capturing all this, and she wanted to get his words on the record.
“I thought, hell, I’m not ready to be married! And you’re right; I made a run for it.”
“But you kept the paperwork,” Riley pointed out. “You must have known you were doing something wrong.”
“Always keep the paperwork. That’s what my mom says,” Brody said. “Doesn’t matter how you do it—just shove it in a file somewhere and keep it. Never know when it will come in handy.”
Riley laughed, then covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “but that’s such a mom thing to say.”
“When I saw you on Base Camp, I told myself, “This is it; this is why I had to keep the paperwork,’” Brody went on.
“Because in your heart you still loved her?” Leslie asked.
Brody made a face. “Because it was my ticket onto television. You know how long I’ve been trying to make it big? It’s not easy out there. Now the whole world is going to hear me play and sing.”
Avery lifted a hand to her forehead. Fame? That’s what this was about?
Of course it was.
“So you’ll agree to an annulment?” Riley said. “You’ll sign the paperwork right now?”
“As soon as that episode airs tonight and the world gets a gander at my singing, I’ll sign whatever you want,” he said. “I didn’t come here to be the bad guy. That’s not my brand.”
Avery let out her breath in a whoosh of relief. Savannah leaped up from her seat beside her. “I knew it would all work out,” she cried and hugged her.
Avery turned to Walker. There was still time to get that annulment.
She could marry him—
“Don’t even think about it!” Elizabeth stood up, too, and blocked her.
“If you and Brody aren’t going to be married much longer, guess that means I’m back on deck, then!” Gabe jumped into her path, as well.
Avery couldn’t stand it anymore.
Any of it.
She fled out the bunkhouse door, the same way Jess had.
Chapter Seven
‡
“Damn it, go after her!” Boone yelled. “No one goes anywhere alone!”
“Someone needs to find Jess, too,” Chris barked, shoving other crew members toward the door.
Walker was already in motion. He caught Avery right outside the door. “Rules,” he said, taking her hand.
She tried to fling it off. “To hell with the rules. I’m going for a walk!”
“Then we’re all going for a walk,” Jericho said, spilling out of the bunkhouse behind him. “Come on. We told Elizabeth and Gabe to stay put with the others. Chris and Byron will catch up with Jess.” He slapped Walker on the shoulder, and when Clay and Angus appeared, the men fanned out around Avery, who stopped in her tracks and growled with frustration before striding on.
Walker kept pace with her.
As he’d expected, she headed for the pasture where the bison herd cropped grass, several calves frolicking among the older animals. If he didn’t know Avery well, he would think her thoroughly engrossed with their antics, but he knew her better than that. Her shoulders were straight and high, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. Avery was struggling to hold her emotions in check. Fair enough; he was, too.
When Brody agreed to sign the paperwork asking for an annulment, Walker’s chest had flooded with heat. Elizabeth’s challenge hadn’t changed that. Nor did Gabe’s attempt at humor.
“He’s going to sign those papers, right?” Avery asked.
“That’s what he said.” Brody had gotten exactly what he wanted, exposure on national television, and Walker had no doubt he’d capitalize on it.
All he cared about was Avery, however. He leaned in close, still holding her hand.
“Say it,” he said. “Say you’ll marry me.”
“You haven’t talked to Sue. You haven’t even talked to Elizabeth. She hasn’t agreed to free you from your promise.”
“You’re killing me,” he said.
She faced him. “We still have to do this right. Brody has to sign the paperwork. You have to tell Elizabeth you’re not marrying her. You have to call Sue.”
“I will,” he said. “I just want to know your answer.”
“You know my answer. You’ve always known it.”
Walker cupped her chin with his hands, bent down and kissed her. With the herd rustling and lowing behind the pasture fence, he savored the feeling of Avery, the aliveness of her. They had met right here on a hundred mornings in all kinds of weather, drawn together by their love for the bison, the big open sky and each other. He’d never been able to make his feelings clear to her, and he was damned if he was going to wait another moment now.
She met him with a sigh, her mouth soft under his. He traced her jaw with his thumb and tangled his other hand in her hair, needing to feel all the different textures of her. A cool breeze played over them, and she shivered in his arms. Walker held her even closer. He never wanted to let her go, never wanted to live another day without her by his side.
When they parted again, she sighed. “Is it really going to work out this time?”
“It damn well better.” He couldn’t stand much more of this. Walker wanted all of Avery—forever.
Now.
“I’m going to call Sue. I’ll tell her to come here before school tomorrow so we can have it out. By lunchtime it’ll all be over.”
“I’m afraid to even hope.”
He stopped himself from crushing her to him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wanted to prove he wouldn’t let anything get between them again. She was his everything. His whole world.
Avery pressed her hands against his chest and lightly pushed away. He let her go reluctantly.
“We have to go back,” she said. “We need to strike while the iron is hot and get Brody’s signature on that document.”
He bent toward her one last time, speaking softly, aware of the cameras on them. “Later,” he said into her hair. “By the creek. When everyone else is asleep.” She nodded, and his heart lifted. If she would agree to that, then she was agreeing to be with him, to spend a life with him. He knew Avery. The one went with the other.
“When everyone else is asleep,” she agreed.
Back at the bunkhouse, they found Brody already signing documents on Boone’s old wooden desk, a host of witnesses gathered around, ready to sign, too. Renata was on the phone to Fulsom, explaining the situation. “I’ll send you photos of them right now,” she said, “and I’ll get the original documents off in the mail in the morning. I’m faxing them straight to a law firm in Vegas, too, which guarantees an annulment within four days.”
Elizabeth met them at the door, her eyes blazing, Gabe not far behind her. “We have to talk about this,” she said.
Walker squared off with her, drawing himself up to his full height. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, when Sue is here. I’m going to do this only once,” he said. When she seemed about to protest, he repeated, “In the morning.”
Her shoulders sagged. She searched his face. “Fine. In the morning.” But she didn’t look happy.
Many hours later, Avery turned onto her shoulder, tense and listening for movement in the bunkhouse. It had taken forever for the groups sleeping in the tiny
houses to say their good-nights and leave. First, Brody had decided he needed to recap his performance on the show, pulling out his guitar and playing and singing, segueing from one tune to the next until Jericho finally took the instrument away from him. Everyone else stayed to chat, speculating on what would happen next. Jess, who’d been persuaded no one was mad at her, hung around close to Brody until he deigned to notice her, and soon they were huddled over cups of tea, whispering like schoolchildren. He left with the crew when they finally departed, loudly proclaiming how happy he was he could finally get a decent night’s sleep at the motel in town.
Elizabeth kept to herself, her jaw set and her gaze tracking Walker wherever he went. Several times, Avery thought she would confront him again, but she didn’t. Gabe stayed close to her, murmuring in her ear now and then, as if he was asking her if there was anything he could do.
Avery couldn’t decipher what he thought about it all. Despite his joke about being back on deck, he didn’t speak to her the rest of the evening, although he shot her curious looks now and then.
She was relieved when everyone retired for the evening, but when it was just the six of them in the bunkhouse, Leslie started in on her.
“Now you’re free to marry whoever you want, and Gabe wants to marry you, but you want to marry Walker, but Elizabeth wants to marry him, too, so it’s all just as much a muddle as it was before, if you ask me. I wonder if any of you has considered pol-y-am-or-y.” She said each syllable slowly, and Avery had the feeling Leslie had come across the concept recently.
“No. We haven’t,” Walker growled at her.
Leslie tossed her hair. “Maybe you’re too much of a stick in the mud for your own good,” she said tartly.
“Okay, Leslie. Time for bed,” Byron whisked her off to their corner of the bunkhouse.
For one moment, Avery thought Elizabeth might be amused, but a second later, her face smoothed out again and she was as serious as ever. They got ready silently, except for the continuous whispers coming from Byron and Leslie, and Walker turned out the lights when everyone had climbed into their bedrolls.
Two hours later, Avery would swear every person in the room was still awake.
Elizabeth kept sighing. Gabe tossed and turned as if bedbugs were making a meal of him. Leslie and Byron were still whispering. And Walker—
When she turned his way, she caught the glint of his eyes. He was awake and watching her.
Longing, deep and primal, made her ache to be down at Pittance Creek in his arms. She’d fantasized about just such an occasion too many times to count lying here at night, but tonight it was far worse, because tonight she knew if she could get to the banks of the creek, she could be with Walker for real.
She bit back the groan that fought to escape her throat. To be with Walker—to feel him moving inside her—
She rolled onto her other side. What was he thinking?
Was he imagining making love to her? Imagining stroking her skin, exploring her body? Heat washed through her at the thought. How would he go about it? What position would he choose the first time they were together?
What would he feel like under her hands?
Elizabeth sighed again. Gabe turned in his bedding. Leslie whispered on and on to Byron, then giggled, a sound like the scrape of nails across a blackboard.
Avery started counting but gave up when she reached 546 and still no one had fallen asleep. She turned to face Walker again. Saw him staring back. Longed to cross the distance between them and slide right into his bedroll no matter who was awake to see them.
She began to count again. Slowly. All the while imagining what she would do to Walker when they were—
When she opened her eyes again, the morning sun shone in the windows. Everyone was finally sleeping. Except Walker—
Who was still watching her.
His tender, regretful smile made up for everything.
Almost.
Had he ever spent a more agonizing night?
Once, in Yemen, he thought, when they’d tried to rescue four aid workers and several dozen schoolchildren caught in a bombed-out school between rival sides during its civil war. It had been his turn on the satellite phone to keep up the spirits of the workers while Boone, Clay and Jericho took turns sleeping and working out a new plan to save them.
They’d talked to those aid workers for days and nights on end in four-hour shifts. Walker had been paired with Andrew Chin, a religious man from Dallas, Texas, who’d been a veterinarian for thirty years before shifting to NGO work.
They’d spoken of death that night, of what constituted a life well lived, what could be done to save the children, not just in Yemen but in perilous circumstances around the world—and what Andrew had learned during his veterinary practice.
“A dignity comes to animals at the end that many humans lack,” Andrew had said. “Animals accept their fate. Not all people do.”
Walker thought Andrew had been one of the ones who did. He’d been calm that night, willing to discuss hope and resignation. “I have no regrets,” he’d said near dawn.
Through the long hours of the past night, Walker tried to be resigned, even after Leslie, Byron, Elizabeth and Gabe finally dropped off one by one, and he realized it was too late to slip off to the creek—Avery had fallen asleep, too.
It had been a bad idea, anyway, with a stalker out there. He’d let his desire override his common sense.
Now he was beyond tired into a realm where he could concentrate on only a single thing at a time, and that one thing was Avery.
He made a call before breakfast. Sue sighed when she answered.
“Another meeting,” he said without preamble. “Get over here.”
“I’ve got work. I have to go in early.”
Walker counted to ten. He’d told Avery it would all be settled by lunchtime.
“When you’re done, then.” He knew better than to push. She had a mulish tone in her voice today he knew too well. When Sue dug in on an issue, it was rare to be able to dig her out.
“I watched the show last night,” she said.
“Then you know what I mean to say.” He hung up. Sue would come, and she’d be ready for a fight.
He went to find Avery. Relayed his conversation to her, then did the same thing with Elizabeth. The two women’s reactions were remarkably similar. A disgusted shake of the head. A sigh of frustration.
“Fine,” Avery said.
“Whatever.” Elizabeth turned her back to him.
Brody arrived at Base Camp with the crew, ate breakfast and presented himself to Walker and Avery when it was over. “I’m up for chores,” he said brightly.
“What are you even still doing here?” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. The strain they were all feeling showed in her face.
“What do you mean?” Brody asked.
“Your marriage is getting annulled. You have no other purpose on the show but to bother Avery.” Elizabeth ticked off her points on her fingers.
“I have a purpose,” Brody sputtered. “I play guitar. I entertain you guys.”
“You can’t mean to stay.”
“What about you?” he returned. “What’s your purpose? I’m not marrying Avery, which means Walker is going to.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t seem to think of an answer. “No one wants you here,” she finally spit out and strode away.
“I want you here,” Jess said from behind the camera.
“Thanks, darling.” Brody blew her a kiss.
“Why is Elizabeth still here?” Avery asked Walker as they fell behind and let the others get ahead of them. “Besides waiting for your confrontation with Sue. She’s got to know what’s coming next. Why doesn’t she give up and leave?”
“She’s stubborn,” Walker told her, but Avery made a good point. Elizabeth was too smart to fight a lost cause. Which meant she still thought she could win. Unease prickled down his spine. “Don’t worry, Sue will be here before the end of the d
ay.” He wasn’t clear if he was reassuring Avery or himself.
“Can’t wait.”
Would this day ever end? After a night of too little sleep, all the endless May sunshine and heat were getting to Avery. When a bead of sweat rolled down her collarbone and between her breasts, she stood up from where she’d been mucking out the chickens’ pen and wiped a sleeve of her gown over her face.
She was thankful when the bell rang out signalling lunchtime, and she hurried back to the bunkhouse with the others in her work group, dying for a tall glass of water. She found Curtis and Hope standing near the kitchen door talking to Kai and Addison, who looked like they’d stepped out of the hot kitchen to get a breath of fresh air before starting to serve the meal. Daisy nosed around the edge of the bunkhouse nearby.
“What’s going on?” Avery asked.
“Star News. What else?” Hope said angrily.
“Who have they got in their sights this time?”
“Me. Curtis. Apparently, Curtis’s woodworking is second rate. Can you believe that? He does beautiful work!”
“I’m no master,” Curtis started, but Hope wasn’t having it.
“Yes, you are. Stop being modest, and don’t let those idiots plant thoughts in your head. Your work is fabulous. I’m honored to live in a house you built.” She turned back to Avery. “Meanwhile, my bison research is really a front for my crusade against the cattle industry, paid for by radical leftist vegans, if you want to know the truth. Never mind the fact bison aren’t vegetables!”
“They’re just trying to make you mad,” Avery told her.
“It’s working!”
“Shh!” Addison hissed, bent close to the little screen. “Now they’re after Kai and me!”
They listened to the show playing on Curtis’s phone.
“Have you seen his so-called ‘cooking show’?” the female announcer asked. “There’s no cooking, Paul! It’s just playing around with solar ovens and a lot of talk about using windmills to make your dinner.”
“What the hell is she talking about?” Kai sputtered. “I’ve never talked about windmills.”
“You know that’s what they call wind turbines,” Avery said. They’d been through this all before. The announcers loved to play dumb, to get the terminology wrong—to pretend they were living in the 1950s. Avery wondered how their audience could stand it.