A SEAL's Triumph

by Cora Seton

  “I need a wedding. A real wedding. But it’s got to be a secret; no one else but me can know about it until the day.”

  “A secret wedding. How intriguing!” Maud leaned forward. “Tell me all about it.”

  Avery did, explaining Elizabeth’s predicament and the need to hide her in plain sight at Base Camp. She explained Fulsom’s rules, too, and the reason for all their secrecy. She even filled in Maud on her parents’ inability to keep a secret and her fear they wouldn’t make it to her wedding—and her inability to invite anyone else she might want to be there.

  “I don’t know what to do. I love Walker, and I would marry him in a chicken coop if I really had to, but I’ve dreamed of my wedding day my whole life, and if it’s at all possible, I want the whole nine yards: flowers, music, dancing…”

  “And that’s exactly what you shall have, my dear,” Maud said comfortably. “I’ll tell you what. James and I shall throw a party in your honor.”

  “We’re never happier than when we’re throwing a party,” James tossed back over his shoulder from where he sat guiding the horses.

  “We won’t tell anyone else at Base Camp about it, but rest assured we will be prepared for them all to attend once Elizabeth flies to Washington. It shall be a very wonderful, very secret, very formal party, and we’ll invite everyone you know,” Maud went on. “Including your parents. And if there happens to be a wedding when they all show up, including your Base Camp friends, who won’t have anything better to do, well, I doubt any of them will mind!”

  Avery beamed. “I knew you’d have an answer. You’re so good to us.” She threw her arms around Maud and hugged her.

  “Other girls dream of being Cinderella,” Maud said happily, “but personally I always wanted to be the fairy godmother.”

  “Uh oh, we have company,” James said.

  Avery looked over her shoulder. Just as she thought, a Base Camp truck was following close behind.

  The scolding she was sure to get was worth it, she decided.

  “What color scheme were you thinking of, dear?” Maud asked. “Don’t worry; those cranky men can wait. You and I are going to plan every last detail.”

  “Addison is right, Sue would have liked the wedding to take place on the reservation,” Elizabeth said when Avery told her and Walker everything that had happened, including her disastrous attempt to get Kai and Addison to cater the affair.

  “Do you mind if I let it slip that’s what’s happening?” Avery said. “That your wedding is going to be a small affair on the Crow reservation, and I’m done helping you? That will explain why I’ve suddenly stopped preparing for the wedding here.”

  “Sue doesn’t like lies,” Walker said.

  “Don’t tell them anything,” Elizabeth advised. “If they ask why you’ve stopped planning my wedding, just say, ‘Ask Sue.’ No more, no less. None of them will dare ask her anything, and she’ll be none the wiser.”

  She was right, Walker had to admit, and it was good to hear Avery laugh. They all looked around to make sure no one else in their work party had heard them.

  “So the wedding is sorted,” Elizabeth said. “I wish everything else was, too.”

  “That’s the next item on my agenda,” Avery assured her. “Maud’s handling my wedding, so now I can handle your publicity problem.”

  “Publicity problem?”

  “Like we talked about, you need to educate the public. Get everyone to call their senators to get them to vote against allowing drilling in the Renning field.”

  “We’ve worked with all the usual groups to get the word out.”

  “You need to go where the kids are.”

  “Kids?”

  “Yes, the kids. Teenagers and twentysomethings are far more aware of how climate change is going to affect their future than anyone else. All those old geezers in the legislature? They don’t care because they’ll be dead before things get bad.”

  “Avery!”

  “It’s true. Every time we say Greenland’s ice will be gone by 2100, everyone over forty shrugs. They’re not going to live that long, so why give up any creature comforts now? The teens and twentysomethings, on the other hand, might still be here. They’ve been hearing about the problem since they were in diapers. They’re not asking if climate change is going to affect them; they’re asking how bad it’s going to be. How will it affect their jobs, their health, their ability to get married and have kids? Will there be enough water when they’re older? Enough food? Will all the fish be gone? What about animals and birds?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “What’s your idea?” Walker could tell Elizabeth had a whole new level of respect for Avery.

  “We’re going to tell those kids the most effective way to get their message to Congress,” Avery said. “And they’ll do it.”

  Elizabeth turned to Walker. “What do you think?”

  “Give her everything she needs.” Avery had a way of connecting to young people and a savvy style of video production he was sure would strike a chord with them.

  “I’m sure Renata and Eve will help when they see what I’m doing,” Avery said confidently. “They’ll go after the older voters.”

  “I hope this works,” Elizabeth said.

  “Walker? Avery?”

  They turned when Hope came in.

  “It’s your turn,” she said, holding up her phone. “Star News just announced before the commercial break they had things to tell their audience about you.”

  “Are you watching that stupid station all day, every day?” Avery asked her.

  “I can’t stop,” Hope admitted. “It’s like watching a train wreck, gruesome and disturbing and something you can’t turn away from. Every time I think they’ve said the craziest thing they can think of, they say something else, and it’s even crazier. It’s like those old tabloid magazines on steroids.”

  “Those old tabloid magazines still exist, you know,” Elizabeth told her.

  “Do they? It’s been so long since I’ve been to a supermarket I don’t even know anymore. Anyway, I update the website with our side of the story each time they do a segment, so I have to watch.”

  “Let’s talk about Walker Norton,” the blonde TV host said as the commercials ended on Hope’s phone. “The enigmatic Indian.”

  “Enigmatic Indian?” Elizabeth repeated. “Are these people from the nineteenth century?”

  “I believe they’re called Native Americans these days, Marla,” the male host said on the screen.

  “Have you ever noticed how picky everyone is about what they’re called now, Paul?”

  “I have. Lot of fuss about nothing if you ask me.”

  “They have to be from the nineteenth century,” Avery said. “That’s the only explanation for how ignorant they are.”

  The man held up a sheaf of papers. “Walker Norton and his purported fiancée, Elizabeth Blaine, are from the Crow reservation in southeast Montana,” he intoned.

  “They’ve got such normal names,” Marla pointed out.

  “You’re right; I expected something more… I don’t know… Indian-sounding.” Paul’s face creased in earnest confusion.

  Avery put a hand to her forehead. “I can’t watch this.”

  But she stayed exactly where she was.

  “You don’t expect people like Walker and Elizabeth to be interested in sustainable living, do you?” Paul went on conversationally.

  “What the hell should people like us be interested in?” Elizabeth asked Walker.

  “Really?” Marla said on the screen. “I mean, one could say the Indians—Native Americans, sorry.” She made a face. “Are the first sustainable people. It’s not like they were driving cars around before we got here.”

  “Right. They didn’t have roads or running water or—”

  Walker quietly took the phone from Hope’s hand and turned it off.

  All four of them stared at each other.

  “What do we do with that?” Hope said. “What do we do with that le
vel of stupidity? A whole network trying to make us look down on or even hate each other—pretending to be national news?”

  “We stop pretending the world makes sense,” Avery said. “We stop being surprised and start getting to work fixing things ourselves. And we look around for other people who are ready to help.”

  “We need the kids?” Elizabeth prompted.

  “We need the kids.”

  “We need an extra pair of hands. I’d like Avery’s help, if you don’t mind,” Avery heard Clay say two days later.

  “We’re supposed to keep to our cohorts,” Hope said. She was helping Avery with the chickens, Walker was tending to the goats and Elizabeth was slopping the pigs, all within eyesight of one another. Avery had been online a lot in the last forty-eight hours, putting out videos and memes on all her social media channels and encouraging her followers to do the same.

  “She’ll be in the building cohort for the rest of the morning, and we’ll deliver her back to you at lunch,” Clay said.

  Avery straightened. She’d been trying to pet a black-and-white speckled hen she’d named Nora months ago, but the hen wasn’t having it. “I don’t mind lending the building cohort a hand this morning.” She figured Clay wouldn’t have come asking if he didn’t need her. Behind him was Curtis, Clay’s father, Dell, Harris and the real Nora, carrying baby Connie. Daisy brought up the rear. They were taking the rules about traveling as a pack seriously.

  “I’ll finish up here,” Hope assured her.

  “What are we building today?” she asked Clay as they headed for the cluster of tiny houses arrayed on the slope outside the bunkhouse. She bit her lip when he led her to the one that was designated for Walker. She hadn’t let herself think about the possibility of sharing it with him for a long time, even after she’d learned the truth about him and Elizabeth.

  Now the prospect of a future with Walker hit her squarely in the chest. She’d spent some nights in this house when it was unfinished and already felt an affinity for it, but she hadn’t entered it in weeks.

  Clay ushered her inside, and she sighed happily. It was as beautiful as all the others, the floor-to-ceiling, south-facing windows letting in the glorious June sunshine. The kitchen was as tidy and inviting as a fairy-tale cottage.

  She noticed the other builders had remained outside, and she wondered if they were all standing guard or if some of them were working on a different project. She peeked out a window and was relieved to see Nora sitting comfortably on a bench someone had placed nearby.

  “I wanted your opinion about a few things, as a close friend of Walker’s,” Clay said.

  She shot him an uncertain look. Clay didn’t know how things stood; he thought Walker was marrying Elizabeth. Surely he saw how inappropriate it was to ask her anything that had to do with him.

  “I wanted your opinion,” Clay repeated slowly. “About what you’d like to see in Walker’s tiny house. Just a few details.”

  She tried to decipher his expression. What was he really trying to say?

  Clay huffed in exasperation and lowered his voice. “Look, Avery, I don’t know what’s going on, and any minute a film crew is going to burst through that door.” A hubbub outside proved his prediction true. Were the others trying to distract the crew and give them a few minutes? “But I know Walker, and he’s not marrying anyone but you. So tell me what you want in this house. Quickly.”

  Should she pretend she didn’t know what Clay was talking about? Avery decided against it.

  “I love Curtis’s woodwork,” she said. “I know Walker likes anything that reminds him of the natural world. Clean lines. Nature needs no ornament, that kind of thing. Oh, and I want a shelf right here. Big enough to display the fan you all thought I stole from him.”

  Clay made a face. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “We can do that. Do you want the outside edge left raw? That can be striking.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “What about you? Anything special you want?”

  “I just want a home,” she said simply. “A forever home. A place to raise my kids. A place that feels safe and cozy and like a big hug.”

  “A big hug.” Clay nodded. “Something natural and clean. We’re on it.”

  A camera crew burst in, and Avery decided it was time to call on her acting skills. “You’re asking me?” she said loudly, allowing her voice to slide up an octave in mock fury. “Walker’s marrying someone else, and you want me to help you decorate his house? Clay Pickett, you can go… screw yourself!”

  She flounced through the knot of crew members and slipped out the door, knowing Clay would be amused by her theatrics.

  “Should we take you back to the chickens?” Curtis asked as he and the other builders fell in with her.

  “I’d rather hang out with you,” she whispered. “Demand to show me your plans for the new tiny houses you’re going to build when the show is over.”

  Curtis brightened. “Definitely.” He led her over to sit by Nora. “You have to see the plans. We’re showing them to everyone. Getting all the input we can.” He ducked closer for a moment. “You sure you don’t mind?” he whispered back as the camera crew scrambled to surround them. “I know it’s a touchy subject.”

  She didn’t mind a bit—now that she knew she wouldn’t have to live in one.

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  “Oh, my goodness,” Elizabeth said a couple of mornings later as people got ready for their jobs after breakfast. “She did it. Avery came through for us. She got everyone talking about the vote on the drilling legislation.”

  Walker held out a hand, and Elizabeth gave him her phone. He scrolled through a social media feed and saw what she meant. Video after video addressed the topic in different ways. There was a short video featuring a teenage girl in tears reading a long list of species that were being driven to extinction by climate change. A more professional video from a twentysomething student talking about oil spills in pristine environments. An ad for a luxury hotel. A post from someone they both knew on the reservation. An ad for an airline. Walker looked questioningly at her.

  “Ignore those. I travel for my job a lot,” she told him. “They’ve got me pegged as a rich adventurer. Look at this one.”

  She scrolled down a little and showed him a ten-second video whose background footage featured oil derricks and a skull and crossbones. A young man flashed on the screen. “Are… you… trying… to… kill… us… all?” he screamed in a thrasher-band snarl.

  “Huh,” Walker said.

  “Whoops, not that one,” Elizabeth said. She adjusted something on-screen, scrolled a little. “Look.”

  These posts were far more polished, narrated by political commentators.

  “It’s all over the internet this morning, Barry,” one of them said. “It’s a groundswell that came out of nowhere. All the kids are talking about it.”

  “About what, Neil?” the other man said.

  “Drilling in the arctic. The opening of the Renning field. They’re saying it’s the final straw—the straw that’s going to break the camel’s back, if you will. The doomsday clock hitting midnight. If Lawrence Energy gets its way, all bets are off for the human race.”

  “We’ve heard that language before, Neil,” the pundit said. “Seems kind of overblown.”

  “We’ve never seen pushback like this. Not everywhere at once. Not targeted at a single company whose project is the basis for a single piece of legislation. I’ve been calling senators, and this burst of activity is changing minds, Barry. Yesterday, I would have said this legislation was going to pass, hands down. Now I’m not so sure. And word is, there’s some damning testimony due to be aired at the upcoming hearing.”

  “I’ll be interested to see what happens next.”

  Elizabeth took back the phone. “Avery is smart. You all don’t take her seriously enough.”

  “I take her very seriously.”

  “Those guys are right, you know,” she added, studyin
g him. “We might be getting close to having the support we need. We’ll keep the heat on, but it’s looking better than I ever dreamed possible going into my presentation.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Walker?” Renata called, appearing in the bunkhouse door. “Get over here. Outside.”

  “Now what?” he grumbled to Elizabeth, but he got up and followed the director outside where Avery, Gabe, Hope and Anders were hanging out with Brody and Jess not far off.

  “Brody, this concerns you, too. I’ve got something to show you.” She held up an envelope. “Your marriage to Avery is formally annulled. Congratulations, you two. You are free.”

  “Really?” Avery snatched the documents from Renata’s hands, read them and looked up, eyes shining as she met Walker’s gaze. “It’s true—” She faltered, clearly remembering too late she was supposed to still be miserable. She flung the papers at Brody. “Doesn’t matter, does it, though?” she said and walked away.

  Walker’s heart ached for her, appreciating her acting skills but knowing how much it cost her not to be able to celebrate her happiness openly. He promised himself then and there he’d find a way to toast the future with her later.

  “That’s right,” Elizabeth said firmly, taking his arm. “Doesn’t matter now that you’re with the person you were always meant to marry.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes but went to follow Avery. Renata studied them, but she was distracted when Brody, reading the paperwork for himself, whooped.

  “I’m a free man. And I’m a star on a national television show. What could beat that?”

  “You could find the woman you were always meant to marry, too,” Jess called from behind a camera.

  For a moment, Brody hesitated, clearly taken aback, but then he rallied. “That’s true. That’s very true. That could happen. Come on, darling, let’s see if Kai’s got something we can celebrate with.”

  Elizabeth leaned in close and brushed her mouth near Walker’s ear. “Leave it to me. I’ll get you some time alone with Avery.”

  Walker nodded, but he didn’t hold out much hope.