A SEAL's Triumph

by Cora Seton

  Murmurs of assent came from all around.

  “We can start fresh. Learn from past mistakes,” Kai said.

  “Hell, it’s Fulsom,” Harris said wearily, pointing. “I don’t know if I have the patience to listen to that windbag right now.”

  There were a few chuckles as they shifted to make way for the man to speak to them.

  Walker wished the night was over and all was said and done. He was ready to cut his losses and move forward—with Avery.

  Wherever they might go next.

  It was all her fault, Avery decided as she splashed cold water on her face and tried to hide the traces of her fresh tears. If she had never come to Westfield in the first place, Walker probably would have cut a deal with Elizabeth and married her in exchange for protecting her until the hearing. If she hadn’t been so restless at the Russells’, she wouldn’t have been kidnapped. Either way you looked at it, it was her fault they were going to lose everything they’d worked so hard to build.

  Had this been Fulsom’s plan all along—to make them lose? To make their audience so angry they’d finally fight for the changes they needed to keep carbon emissions low?

  If so, Avery thought it would backfire. People were already tired. They were overwhelmed with bad news and too much information. They were struggling to hold their own lives together, let alone try to save the world.

  As she slipped out of the bunkhouse into the surrounding crowd, she spotted a new surge of people approaching from the parking area: Fulsom and his entourage. She fought an urge to go right back into the bunkhouse and hide. Instead she made her way to them and quietly joined the group around the billionaire.

  “I thought we agreed at least two houses would be damaged,” Fulsom was saying to an aide as they walked toward the gathered crowd. “There was supposed to be drama!”

  “The pregnant women in danger were the drama, sir,” his aide pointed out. “Not to mention the kidnapping.”

  “She’s back, right? Don’t need any deaths on my hands.”

  Anger kindled in Avery’s belly. At least two of the tiny houses were supposed to be damaged? So Fulsom knew all about Montague’s attempt to bulldoze them early? He knew about her kidnapping, and he’d only just made it here? Had he tried to help find her at all?

  “Here she is. Right here! Get those lights over here.”

  A woman’s hand closed around her arm, and Avery looked up to see Marla and the rest of the Star News crew focused on her.

  “Can I get a statement about the spectacular failure of Base Camp to accomplish anything?” Marla asked.

  Avery yanked free of her grip. “What are you doing here? Who gave you permission to film on our land?”

  “It’s not your land anymore, is it?” Marla persisted. “We’re here on the invitation of Martin Fulsom, the colossally reckless billionaire who started this whole thing. I saw him walk past just now. What would you like to say to him?”

  Avery turned away. Had Fulsom been feeding stories to Star News all this time?

  It was another kick in the gut.

  By the time she recovered herself and caught up to Walker and the others again, Fulsom was miced up and addressing the crowd. Anger and indignation built inside her with each passing moment. He’d risked their homes—their lives.

  “Thank you all for being here tonight. First I want to welcome everyone to this special place and say a few words about what’s happened here. We took on something big when we started Base Camp.”

  “We?” Avery called out in indignation. “What did you do? We’re the ones who spent a year building this community.”

  If her interruption surprised him, Fulsom recovered quickly. “We aimed for the stars, you could say,” he boomed. “And if we failed to reach them, at least we tried. Fulsom Industries has been proud to back this noble effort, and we remain proud of our investment—”

  Walker surged forward and ripped the microphone off Fulsom’s shirt.

  “Hey!” Fulsom reached for it, but Walker held him off with one outstretched hand.

  “We came to Chance Creek to build a better future. To show everyone it could be done. To test out new ideas in technology and food production and the organization of people in communities. We’ve done everything we set out to do and more, and while we did it, we opened up our lives to scrutiny by the entire world.”

  “That’s more words than I’ve heard Walker say in twelve months,” Savannah hissed. Riley elbowed her into silence, but Avery understood her shock. Walker wasn’t one to grandstand like this.

  “We built a renewable energy system. He tried to sabotage it.” Walker pointed a finger at Fulsom, who began to protest. “We grew enough food to feed ourselves and more through the winter. He stole it. We built ten tiny houses that were beautiful and functional, each of them different because of the finishing touches of the homeowners. He tried to bulldoze them.”

  Fulsom kept protesting, but no one was listening to him. Walker had them hooked.

  “Here’s the thing about the world. There are builders and there are destroyers, givers and takers. We all know that. But there’s another class of people, too. The users. The ones who foment chaos between everyone else and then make billions off both sides when strife erupts. The ones who offer something for free but then make billions by selling our most personal data to those who want to influence us. The ones with so much money invested in things staying the same, they won’t ever allow conditions to improve for the rest of us. Tonight everyone watching this show needs to ask themselves, am I a builder, am I a destroyer or am I a user?”

  Fulsom rubbed his forehead. Waited to see if Walker was done. When Walker didn’t go on, Fulsom leaned in to speak in the little microphone.

  “I’m a builder! Everyone knows that!”

  “Are you?” Walker challenged him. “Really?”

  “I built all this!” He waved a hand to include all of Base Camp.

  “Did you?” Walker waited him out, and Fulsom began to sputter.

  “Without my money—”

  “Without the money you earned in your oil empire, you mean?”

  Fulsom flushed. Avery knew he’d spent years trying to change his image from oil man to environmentalist and entrepreneur.

  “I’m using my money to fund—”

  “You’re using our money, you mean.”

  Fulsom gaped at him. “Your money? I’m the one who—”

  “What? Pulled the oil out of the ground? Out of our ground? Ruined our air? Polluted our water? Changed our atmosphere?” Walker held out his hand to include everyone present. “And now you think you have the right to spend the money you earned doing that? To control where it goes? To play with our lives?”

  Avery held her breath. There it was—the real reason Walker was speaking up. Fulsom had played with their lives—his and hers. All of theirs. Maybe he’d done it for the best of reasons. Maybe he’d done it for the most selfish ones.

  It didn’t matter.

  Because in the end, none of them had to let a stupid billionaire control anything.

  And she’d had enough.

  Avery marched up to where they stood and took the microphone from Walker. She faced the crowd.

  “Our show has come to an end, but here’s the moral of the story,” she said. “If you want change, you have to bring it. If you want to end pollution, you have to stop polluting. If you want to have a civil society, you have to be civil. If you want to build a community, you have to build it. All of us here at Base Camp can’t change the world for you. Billionaires won’t change it for you. Your government is too hamstrung to change it for you. It’s all up to you. All up to each of us. We can encourage each other, reach out to each other, help each other, but at the end of the day, and especially in the middle of the night, in our darkest, loneliest hour, it comes down to us. We are all of us, every single one of us, alone in this fight—together.”

  As her friends converged around her and Walker pulled her into a rough embrace, A
very dropped the little microphone and let it all go. This was what was important: this moment, these people, this man she loved.

  But even as they came together, Fulsom called out, “Wait!”

  Avery sighed but turned to listen.

  “I… may have let myself get carried away.” Without his microphone, Fulsom had lost some of his bluster. “I wanted to be sure everyone watched Base Camp, so I did everything I could to make it popular: high stakes, dramatic problems, love and lust and weddings. So many weddings.”

  A couple of people in the gathered crowd chuckled.

  “I wanted a grand finale that would keep people talking even after the show was over, and I wanted everyone to know there’s no guarantee we win this thing. We’re in the middle of an extinction event. We’re destroying the world’s forests at an unprecedented rate. We—” He shook his head. “You know this. All of us know all this. And yet it goes on.” He raised his hands in supplication. Paced a few steps. “Here’s the thing. I’m afraid.” He pointed to Walker. “You’re right: I’ve got billions, and even I can’t seem to make a difference, so what does that mean? And you’re right: more than anyone else—anyone here, anyway—I helped cause this problem. So I need to fix it! But you’re right again. That’s where I lost sight of the goal. I’ve…” He paused, as if swallowing a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’ve got to ask for help. I’ve got to stop playing God. So what I’m going to do is… what I’m going to do is use my money better. I’m going to fully fund the Fulsom Foundation, expand the board of directors and take on a broader set of goals. I’m going to get more experts involved—and listen to them. Less flash, more substance.”

  “Sounds like a good start,” Walker called out.

  “And I’m going to hand over the deed to this ranch to the person who should have had it in the first place. Riley, Westfield is yours. I know you’ll know what to do with it.”

  Riley covered her mouth with her hand, then buried her face in Boone’s chest. Avery’s eyes filled with tears of joy for her friend.

  A cheer went up from the crowd, and more than one Base Camp couple kissed.

  “Wait!” a man cried. “Wait, wait, wait!”

  Avery nearly groaned when Montague pushed his way through the crowd and stormed up to Fulsom.

  “You can’t give this land away. It’s mine now! I won. They lost.”

  Fulsom stared at him, and Avery remembered Montague was right. Walker hadn’t married her. Midnight was long past. The women of Base Camp and their helpers from town had stopped the bulldozers, but that didn’t change anything.

  “Well… I… I mean.” For once in his life, Martin Fulsom didn’t seem to know what to say. “I know I set up the rules, but—”

  “But nothing! This ranch is mine. I’m going to build that subdivision. I won fair and square.”

  “No, you didn’t!” Avery cried. “You cheated every step of the way, including bringing those bulldozers here well before midnight, when you didn’t have any reason to be here at all!”

  “That’s right.” Fulsom cleared his throat. “You broke the rules.”

  “Because you told me to.” Montague didn’t back down. “This is a big pile of baloney. You’ve been manipulating me all along.”

  “I’ll… I’ll give you another ranch.” Montague was making a mess of his big moment, and Avery could see Fulsom was determined not to let that happen.

  “You’re going to reward him for all his bad behavior?” Riley asked. “What’s the message in doing that? You’ll be encouraging people to do the wrong thing.”

  Fulsom threw up his hands in frustration. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing,” Walker said. He stepped forward. “Here’s another idea,” he said to Montague. “How about you join us?”

  “What?” several people cried at once.

  “Why would I want to join you?”

  “Because you’re a developer, and we can help you be a leader in that industry. Trends are changing. You need to adapt to keep up. People need houses that several generations can share. They need houses that work for retirement. They need houses that run on green energy and return power to the system rather than draw it down. They need a new way of coming together in community, sharing resources rather than being isolated. Work with us. We’ll help you design a new kind of subdivision. One that works more like a town than an afterthought. Step into the future with us. You’re looking for success, right? We know how to get there. Fulsom can give you the land. We can give you the know-how—and our seal of approval. Think of the publicity you’ll get.”

  Montague stared at him. “After everything I’ve done, you’d let me work with you?”

  “It’s a hell of a lot better than having to keep fighting you.” Walker waved a hand to encompass the crowd. “We might have different ways of going about it, but we’re all after the same thing, aren’t we? We all want a steady job, a way to pay our bills, a roof over our head, food and safety for our families. We want to belong to something. To feel good about how we spend our time. We aren’t all that different. You’re a builder. We’re builders, too. Why not work together?”

  Montague processed this. “You know… I made some plans recently,” he said slowly, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t know why, really; I don’t build little houses. After seeing yours, though, I knew I could do better. And I did.”

  “We’d love to see those plans,” Clay assured him, joining Walker.

  Avery held her breath. Montague chewed on his lip. “Guess I could show them to you. Working together could be… interesting.”

  She let it go.

  “That’s agreed, then,” Fulsom spoke up. “We’ll work out the details and make sure the stakeholders get their say, but I’m still returning Westfield to Riley. Can you live with that?” he asked Montague.

  “Guess so. If I get a piece of land somewhere of similar value,” the man grumbled. When Riley threw her arms around him and gave him a big kiss on his cheek, he pretended not to like it, but it was obvious he did. Soon he was deep in discussion with Clay and Dell about plans and possibilities.

  “Okay, folks, it’s official,” Fulsom said. “Base Camp forever!”

  “Base Camp forever!” the crowd cheered.

  Someone’s fingers twined in Avery’s, and she looked up to see Walker next to her. A wave of relief swept over her, then a wave of love. For the first time ever, she knew he was inevitably, utterly hers.

  Nothing could stop them from being together now.

  He nodded. Turned her to face him and took her other hand, too. “Want to try again next week?” he asked. In the din around them, his eyes held a world of patience and peace—and love.

  Avery’s heart swelled until she thought it would burst out of her chest.

  “Yes.”

  “Avery!”

  Before she could turn to see who was calling her, she was enveloped in a double hug. Her parents clung to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine,” she assured them, meeting Walker’s gaze. As long as she had him, she’d always be okay.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‡

  One week later

  Okay, now you can look.”

  Walker blinked when Avery uncovered his eyes and straightened, taking in the beautiful wooden shelf now installed in the living area of his tiny house. On it lay the ceremonial fan he’d given Avery just a few weeks ago.

  “I thought it needed a place at the heart of our house.”

  His chest flooded with warmth. She had to know she would always be the heart of the house to him, but he appreciated the gesture more than he could say.

  “It’s perfect.” When she hugged him, he bent to kiss her, wanting her to know what he was feeling.

  When they pulled away again, Avery said, “I have to get going. I’ll meet you at the altar in a few hours. Let’s try to get there this time.” She went up on tiptoe for another kiss and
held on longer than he expected.

  “You okay?” He pulled back and tilted up her chin with a finger. Tears shone in her eyes.

  “I’m scared that something is going to happen. I never want to be taken from you again.”

  “No one ever will,” he promised her. “I’ll walk you to the manor, then come back here.”

  “Okay.” She gratefully took his hand.

  When they stepped outside, however, they found the other women of Base Camp had gathered there.

  “We’ll walk Avery to the manor,” Savannah told him.

  “I’ll watch to make sure you make it,” he assured Avery and passed her over to her friends, but she had already relaxed. It was hard to hold on to any fear in a day as brilliant as this one. The sun in the blue sky above them beamed down. The whole world seemed scrubbed brand new. Mr. Smith and Owen were behind bars awaiting trial—they couldn’t hurt them now.

  He watched the gaggle of women in their colorful gowns trail up the path to the manor. Maud and James were still helping with the wedding, but they’d decided to hold it here at the ranch this time. None of them wanted to leave it much these days, too enamored with the idea it was theirs now for good.

  A half hour later, he was back in his tiny house when a knock on the door announced Sue’s arrival.

  “Looks good in here,” she said, standing stiffly in the living room when he ushered her in. He noticed her gaze resting on the fan. She nodded in approval, and he stifled a smile. He wouldn’t tell her it was Avery who’d put it there.

  “It’s nice to have the house all finished. Glad it’s still here, actually,” he admitted. It still stopped his heart when he thought about Montague’s bulldozers ready to flatten the home in which he’d meant to share his life with Avery.

  “You cleaned up outside, too,” she observed, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows down the slope.

  He nodded. They’d done their best to smooth out the gouges in the land from Montague’s heavy machinery. By the end of the summer, he was sure the scars from the bulldozers would mostly fill in.

  “So now it’s all yours.”