by Cora Seton
“Right. Yeah.” Boone was still staring at his screen. He shook his head, lifted the phone and tapped it. “Cab? Boone here. There are bulldozers at Base Camp—” He cut off. Listened. “Okay, thanks, glad you’re on it. We think Avery’s somewhere near the Dancing Boot. We’re going door to door. You sure you searched the motel?” He listened. “Okay, we’ll cross the street and start there.” He cut the call. “Cab’s got men on the way to Base Camp. The rest of them will meet us.”
“Let’s go.”
“We’re fine,” Owen said. “We’re going to be fine. No one’s going to listen to all that wishy-washy crap. Those senators know which side their bread is buttered on.”
“Shut up,” Mr. Smith said. “We’re fucked no matter what. We need a plan.”
Owen drew his Glock and pointed it at Avery. “I say our plan should be to put a cap in this one. More trouble than she’s worth.”
Avery drew back against the bedframe and braced herself, but Mr. Smith knocked Owen’s hand aside. “Put that away, shut the fuck up and start using your head. She’s our ticket to safety. We’ll use her to get across the border. Lay low for a while in Mexico.”
“Hell, I don’t want to go to Mexico.”
“I don’t really care.”
Mr. Smith flipped the channel on the television. During a lull in the proceedings, he’d found the Base Camp live feed on Star News. Ever since, he’d been switching back and forth between the two. “What the hell is that?” Avery saw a line of bulldozers lined up in front of the tiny houses on-screen. Mr. Smith laughed. “Gotta hand it to these guys; they know how to put on a show.” He turned to Avery. “They tell you ahead of time they were going to do this?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could speak if she tried. Where had all those bulldozers come from?
“This is a surprising turn of events.” The announcer seemed to be wrestling with Riley and finally yanked what looked like a tiny clip-on microphone out of her hands. “The women of Base Camp, who’ve been searching for their missing friend, Avery Lightfoot, have just arrived back.”
Someone off-camera yelled. Avery thought it was Savannah. Riley whirled to see and then darted out of view.
Marla, the Star News announcer, watched her go. “They’re linking their arms and standing in front of the tiny houses. They’re actually going to try and stop the bulldozers.” The camera moved to follow her pointed finger.
“No!” Avery cried. “Riley, get out of there!”
What if the bulldozers didn’t stop?
She cried out again when Mr. Smith switched back to C-SPAN. “The presentation’s over. They’re fucking starting the vote!”
Was that fear in his voice?
A shiver slid down her spine. If the bad guys were afraid, whoever controlled them must be truly dangerous.
Would they really take her to Mexico? What then?
Mr. Smith flipped back to the Base Camp live feed. “What the hell? Look at those women!”
Avery leaned forward. There was Riley, Savannah, Nora, Addison, Hope, Renata, Samantha, Eve, Win and Leslie standing between the bulldozers and the tiny houses. Was that Jess joining them? Sure looked like it. Her stomach cramped with fear.
“They’re all going to die!” Owen crowed.
“This is getting good,” Mr. Smith said, but he flipped to C-SPAN.
“Aye,” said a senator. The speaker read another name, and a man stood up. “Nay,” he said.
Mr. Smith flipped to the live feed.
“The bulldozers are moving!” Owen said.
Avery’s mouth went dry. He was right; the bulldozers were advancing, eating up the ground between them and the tiny houses—with all her friends in between.
“Run,” she called at the screen. Run! Run! she willed at them in her head.
“There’s not enough of them,” Owen said. “Most of those bulldozers can go right around them and get at the other houses.”
Mr. Smith flipped back to C-SPAN. “Aye,” said a woman. “Nay,” said a man.
Flip.
Avery nearly screamed when she saw how close the bulldozers were. Suddenly a roar went up from the screen, and people started flooding into view.
“What the hell?” Owen cried. “Who are those people?”
Avery wasn’t sure. Wait—wasn’t that Autumn Cruz, who ran a bed-and-breakfast at her ranch in Chance Creek? And wasn’t that Marta, the librarian? And if she wasn’t mistaken, that was Elle Hall, who used to be a movie star and now ran an equine rehabilitation program over at Crescent Hall.
Women were pouring in from all directions. Chance Creek women. They were swarming the space between the bulldozers and the tiny houses. No—
They were climbing up into the bulldozers.
Pulling out the drivers. Dragging them away.
“Go!” Avery cried. “Go! Go!”
Mr. Smith flipped back to C-SPAN.
“The votes are in,” the man on the screen was saying. “The ayes have forty-nine, the nays have fifty-one. Bill 134 has been defeated.”
Avery cried out in relief, then fear as Owen spun around to face her, the Glock in his hand again.
“There goes our money,” he snarled at his friend.
“Fuck,” Mr. Smith growled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! We’ve got to go. Tie her up.”
“She’ll slow us down!” Owen trained his weapon on Avery. “Bye-bye, little girl—”
Avery shut her eyes and ducked.
“I haven’t seen anyone,” said the man at the door of the seventh house Walker had knocked on. “It’s been quiet all night. I heard there was a search for your friend. We checked the house and the garage, just in case. You’re welcome to check again.”
“Is there anything for rent on this block?” Walker was losing his patience. Anything could have happened to Avery. It had been hours since she’d been taken from the Russells’. She could be hundreds of miles away. She could be—
No, he wouldn’t let himself think that.
“I don’t think so.”
A woman appeared behind the man in a faded bathrobe. “Yes, there is.” She shoved her husband aside with her hip. “Right at the end of the block. They made that old blue house into a vacation rental. The outside isn’t much to look at, but the inside is done up quite nicely.”
Walker’s heart pounded. Vacation rental? That was it. It had to be. “Thanks!”
He dashed down the front steps and across the street to where Boone was talking to another homeowner. “I got it!”
“Thanks for your help,” Boone called as he raced to join Walker. “Where?”
“End of the block. Brand-new vacation rental. It’s got to be where she is.”
“We’ll find out.”
Walker heard sirens wailing in the distance. Cab coming to join them? He didn’t want Avery’s captors alerted. “Call Cab. Tell him to knock that off!”
Boone stopped to do so. Walker kept going. When he reached the house in question and found the small plaque by the door, he was doubly sure this had to be the place. There was a car in the driveway with rental decals. The lights on the first floor were out, but the second story was blazing with lights in every room.
She must be up there.
Boone joined him again.
“I’m getting in there. Take the back door, in case someone makes a run for it.”
Boone nodded.
When he was gone, Walker got to work on the front door. His SEAL training came in handy, but it wasn’t difficult. Maybe the homeowner had spruced up the interior, but this keypad lock was as cheap as they came. Once inside, Walker crept toward the stairs, listening intently.
He could hear a television playing upstairs and had a momentary qualm; if he walked in on some poor, unsuspecting couple watching TV in bed, he was going to hate himself.
Still, he had to find out if Avery was there. He stopped at the bottom of the staircase to listen.
Whoever had control of the remote was flicking from channel to
channel, the sound changing every few seconds. Walker crept step by step up to the second floor.
“What the hell is that?” a man said.
Walker froze and didn’t breathe easy until another man replied, “Gotta hand it to these guys; they know how to put on a show. They tell you ahead of time they’re going to do this?”
Was he talking to Avery? What were they watching?
“This is a surprising turn of events.” A different voice—from the TV.
Walker knew that voice, but from where?
“The women of Base Camp, most of them pregnant, have just arrived back.”
Was that Star News? It had to be. They were still reporting from Base Camp.
There was a yell, still on the television, but Walker recognized that voice, too. Savannah. What was happening?
“They’re linking their arms and standing in front of the tiny houses,” the Star News announcer said. “They’re actually going to try to stop the bulldozers.”
“No!”
Ice sliced through Walker’s veins. That was Avery!
“Riley, get out of there!”
What the hell was Riley doing? Trying to block the bulldozers?
Boone needed to know—
But Avery needed him right now.
Avery gave a cry. The sound on the television changed. Walker crept up another step, his Glock in his hands.
“The presentation’s over,” one of the men he’d heard before said angrily. Was that Mr. Smith? The guy who’d called him? “They’re fucking starting the vote!”
The sound on the television switched again. “What the hell? Look at those women! They’re all going to die!” the other man said.
“This is getting good,” Mr. Smith said. The television sound switched again.
“Aye,” a man said. Walker heard a man’s name read out. “Nay,” another man said. That had to be the Senate taking its vote. How had Elizabeth’s presentation gone?
The sound changed.
“The bulldozers are moving!” the second man said.
“Go,” Avery called out. Walker’s heart squeezed. She was so close—so close—
But he couldn’t blow this.
“There’s not enough of them,” the second man said. “Most of those bulldozers can go right around them and get at the other houses.”
The sound changed. “Aye,” a woman’s voice said. “Nay.” That was a man.
The sound changed again.
The cry Avery gave chilled the blood in Walker’s veins. What had she seen on the television? Walker held steady. He had to choose the right moment. There were two men in that room, both of them probably armed.
Suddenly a roar went up from the television.
“What the hell?” the second man cried. “Who are those people?”
“Go!” Avery cried. “Go! Go!”
The sound changed again. Walker steeled himself. He had to make his move.
“The votes are in,” the man on the television was saying. “The ayes have forty-nine, the nays have fifty-one. Bill 134 has been defeated.”
Avery cried out in relief, then shrieked.
What was happening?
“There goes our money,” the second man snarled.
“Fuck,” the first man growled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! We’ve got to go. Tie her up.”
“She’ll slow us down!” A slight pause. “Bye-bye, little girl—”
Walker launched himself up the stairs and across the hall.
When the door burst open and something catapulted across the room, Avery screamed again. Owen hit the ground, his Glock knocked from his hands, and the two men grappled on the ground until Walker got the upper hand. He pulled back and punched Owen.
The man went limp.
Mr. Smith, shocked into stillness by Walker’s sudden appearance, reached for his gun. Avery, getting over her own surprise, moved without thinking. She tucked her trussed legs underneath herself on the soft mattress, rocked back and launched herself toward him.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and they collapsed in a tangle to the floor. A moment later, the man tossed her aside, but someone else burst through the door—
Boone.
“Don’t move!” He trained his weapon on Mr. Smith. “Don’t even try it.” Boone advanced when Mr. Smith made to pull Avery in front of him as a shield, but Walker got there first. He plucked Avery from the man’s hands. A second later, Boone’s weapon was in Mr. Smith’s face. “Give me one reason,” he growled.
“We don’t have time for that,” Walker said. He still held Avery in his arms. She wished she could fling hers around his neck and bury her face against his chest, but her wrists were tied. “We’ve got to get back to Base Camp.”
Walker deposited Avery on the bed, pulled out a knife and cut through the bindings on her wrists and ankles. Then he cupped her chin and kissed her. Pulled back and met her gaze with his, his eyes telling her everything he didn’t have time to say.
He loved her.
He’d nearly lost her.
He’d never let her go again.
“Riley,” Avery croaked.
“That’s where we’re headed next,” Walker assured her.
“Stopped the bulldozers,” Avery managed. “People came to help.”
“You sure?” Boone had gone pale where he stood, his weapon still trained on Mr. Smith.
Avery grabbed the remote. Changed the channel back to Star News. Crowds of women were dancing and singing, climbing all over the bulldozers that stood unmoving near the tiny houses.
“Never seen anything like it,” Marla was saying on-screen. “You know, these women aren’t that bad—”
More men burst into the room, Cab and his deputies.
“It’s all right,” Boone told him. “Avery’s safe.”
As Cab took over the situation, Walker drew Avery to the far side of the room. “You okay?” he asked her gently, running his hands over her as if making sure she had no injuries.
“My arms hurt. Wrists and ankles are sore, but I’m okay.”
He wiped her cheek with a finger. Avery hadn’t realized she was crying.
“I was scared,” she admitted as he drew her into an embrace.
He tightened his arms around her until she was wrapped in a comforting fortress and bent down to speak in her ear. “I was terrified.”
As the tears ran down her cheeks, Avery breathed in Walker’s comforting scent. She never wanted to leave the safety of his arms again. Behind them the television still played, and she heard the voices of her friends mixed with others on-screen. They were safe—and so was Base Camp. Elizabeth had defeated the new drilling plan, and there was hope for the future. Maybe they could save the world, after all.
“Hey,” Cab called from across the room. “Weren’t you two supposed to get married tonight?”
Avery pulled back with a gasp. Met Walker’s shocked gaze. Turned to find a clock on the bedside table.
It was five minutes past midnight.
Chapter Thirteen
‡
“It’s not the end,” Walker told Avery again when they parked in Base Camp’s parking lot a half hour later.
“I know.”
“I want to marry you.”
“I know.” But she didn’t stop crying. Her tears had slipped silently down her cheeks since before they’d left Cab Johnson putting the two kidnappers in his cruiser. It had been a long drive back to the ranch.
“We’ll find a way to stay together—all of us.”
“I know.”
Walker’s heart squeezed at her grief.
“We’ll take Champ with us. I’ll steal him if I have to.”
“And Ruth. Champ is too young to be separated from his mother.” A tremulous smile quirked her lips before her tears overwhelmed her again. “It’s just… wherever we go, it won’t be the same.”
“Don’t give up. Not yet.”
A murmur of voices told him the crowds he’d seen on television gath
ered at Base Camp hadn’t thinned yet. If anything, they’d grown. He realized the search parties must have come to join the women who’d saved the tiny houses. It looked like all of Chance Creek was here to greet Avery’s safe return.
As they approached the community, the floodlights lit up the bulldozers still strewn around the hillside. Women were perched on them, inside and out. More were milling around, setting up tables of food and drinks, holding babies, wrangling children they’d brought along with them, dressed in pajamas.
The men of Base Camp stood gathered together, speaking in low voices, already planning their next steps, Walker assumed. This was too dynamic a group for there not to be next steps, but like Avery said, it would be hard to leave Base Camp after everything that had happened here.
“Walker! Avery!” Jericho called out, and instantly they were swarmed. Avery submitted to the hugs of her friends. Walker shook Jericho’s hand, then Clay’s.
“I can’t believe we didn’t find you sooner,” Clay said. “I can’t believe that vacation rental wasn’t on our list.”
“It’s okay. It’s over,” Walker told them.
“It really is,” Boone said, running a hand through his short-cropped hair and looking around them. Everyone went quiet, all of them counting their regrets.
“No one can say we didn’t try,” Clay pronounced roughly. “We gave it everything we had.”
“We did the right thing protecting Elizabeth, too,” Jericho said. “Maybe we lost the ranch, but she persuaded those guys in the Senate. That’s something.”
Walker was grateful for his friends’ support, but he knew everyone was hurting and would continue to do so long after the high of defeating the legislation ebbed away.
“I’ll be right back.” Avery went up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. “Just need the washroom.”
“Your parents are on the way,” Clay told her. “They’re with the Russells.”
“Thanks.”
Walker watched her until she disappeared into the bunkroom, wanting to follow her there and guard the door, finding it hard to believe the threat to their lives was really over.
“We’ll figure out something,” Greg told him. “With so many of us working together, there has to be a way to recreate what we have here.”