A SEAL's Triumph

by Cora Seton

  “Soon she’ll be running rings around us,” Eve had said with a happy sigh.

  He didn’t want to miss a single milestone of his daughter’s journey to independence, and Johannes seemed to enjoy it at Base Camp, too. Anders never thought his father would be comfortable with letting someone else oversee the day-to-day business of Hansen Energy, but Bill, the CEO, wasn’t fazed by technology and video chatted, texted and called so often, Johannes might as well have been in Texas.

  Only last week he and his father had gone for a ride to Chance Creek with their fishing gear and spent a couple of hours at it. The fishing was better up north, but Anders had still enjoyed his afternoon—and the new connection he was forging with Johannes.

  As the dance went on, it was his wife who consumed his attention, not his father. Let Johannes flirt. He had the woman he wanted, and that made him feel everyone should have their share of love.

  Eve smiled at him. “What are you thinking?”

  “You know what I’m thinking.” If this were a waltz, he’d pull her in tighter. He’d come to think that Regency dances were a very effective form of flirting. You came together and moved apart, never keeping your partner as close as you wanted her.

  But tonight, once Isabel was asleep, he’d get to be as close to Eve as he could wish. He saw the answering interest in her eye and knew they’d have a lot of fun.

  “How much longer does this shindig go on?”

  “Not much longer,” she promised him.

  “Good.”

  Anders still got her motor racing, Eve thought happily as they completed the dance and moved smoothly into the next one. Over the last year and a half, they’d polished up a half-dozen dances they could all do at the drop of a hat. It always impressed visitors to Base Camp. Plus, she loved them.

  “You never finished telling me about the movie,” Anders said when a minute or two had gone by. “We got interrupted yesterday when Isabel bumped her head.”

  Their daughter was sporting a small bruise on her forehead, the first of many, Eve predicted. She was a tiny thing but determined and fearless, and that step she’d taken yesterday had been followed by some fast crawling after a ball Anders was rolling around on the floor. She’d gotten so excited to catch it she stopped looking where she was going.

  “Your CEO is thinking up movie ideas faster than I can make them,” Eve told him. “Now he wants one about the restoration of oil fields. It’s going to take a lot of research.”

  “Which is going to make you one happy documentarian,” Anders said.

  “You got it.” Eve didn’t think she’d ever get tired of making movies. As soon as Hansen Oil had started to transition to Hansen Energy, Johannes and his new CEO began to commission movies to explain their activities. She had found a crew that did great work but had previously struggled to find funding. With Hansen Energy’s deep pockets, she could let them run wild, traveling to immerse themselves in localities and collect footage that was astounding not only in its beauty or interest but also in the information it conveyed. She’d begun to get into some of the voice-over work herself, finding she had a talent for it, but it was editing footage that she loved best.

  The next time the dance brought them close, Anders stole a kiss, holding her in place a moment too long, which made her stumble and nearly upset all the dancers around them. There was some laughter in the ranks, and the audience craned their necks to see what was happening.

  “Behave,” she told him, spotting her best friend, Melissa, on the sidelines watching the dance. She was grinning—she’d definitely seen Anders’s illicit kiss.

  “I will. For now. I’m not making any promises about later.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She waved quickly at Melissa, who turned to show her how huge her belly had gotten. Melissa was expecting her first “little cowboy,” as she kept calling the baby, in a couple of months and was over the moon—as was her husband. Eve was so glad her good friend had settled close by. She’d made so many wonderful new friends since being here, but Melissa was still the tether for her kite, although Anders and Isabel were certainly doing their part these days.

  A husband, a baby, a number of good friends. The job of her dreams.

  She had it all.

  Sometimes life came full circle, Greg thought, switching his baby from one arm to the other. Ten years ago he’d stood next to Renata in Peru as she’d faced a busload of schoolgirls who didn’t know they’d just lost everything. Now the two of them were waving to a busload of visitors riding back to town after the open house.

  Funny how he’d known the minute he saw Renata that she was the woman he wanted to build his world around. Amazing that all these years later, his dream had come true. What if he hadn’t taken the chance and come to Base Camp?

  Where would he be now?

  He doubted he’d be married; no one suited him like Renata did. She woke up each morning ready to get to work documenting all the troubles of the world—and all the solutions, too. She was as committed to Base Camp’s purpose as he was. She valued family and community, the things most important to him.

  He doubted he’d have found his place in the world, either. If he hadn’t seen that Renata was going to direct the television show documenting its progress, he never would have signed up for Base Camp. After his years growing up at Greenleaf, he’d thought he wanted something different.

  He’d been wrong.

  He was finding that his years at the Oregon commune had given him knowledge and skills that were coming in handy now that Base Camp was expanding and transitioning from a top-down military-style establishment to a democratically run community. He’d grown up learning consensus-building techniques, knew how to listen and give feedback and knew, too, when people needed a break and a chance to think things over before coming back together to solve a problem.

  He’d been elected to serve on the advisory council for Base Camp, along with a mixture of old and new members, and together they were building off Boone’s initial governing document, holding meetings, making plans—and deciding how big was too big for Base Camp to grow.

  Now that there were plenty of volunteers to fill out the green energy crew, he’d shifted to leadership full-time, which suited him better, he had to admit. As much as he was interested in making their carbon footprint smaller, there were other men and women here whose skills far surpassed his, and he’d taken to working part-time in the garden to keep from being fully sedentary but spent the bulk of his time keeping Base Camp running.

  He liked how it meant he got to work with everyone in one capacity or another. He’d been part of the team creating orientation materials for new arrivals and ended up developing an entire weeklong program that every new Base Camp community member went through when they moved in. It got everyone on the same page, made it easy to find out where they’d best fit in the picture and sparked friendships between old and new members alike.

  When Renata bent to look at Adalynne, he whispered, “She’s sound asleep.”

  “Better get her home.”

  “You sure? I heard something about late-night snacks at the bunkhouse after everyone’s gone.”

  “Let’s get some and take them with us.”

  Greg followed her happily. Renata was a people-person in her own way, but at the end of the day she needed hours to recharge alone before she was ready for another day. He would happily curl up with her on the couch, knowing tomorrow he’d get to spend time with a dozen or more different people.

  They ducked into the bunkhouse, where Kai and Addison were just putting out platters of finger foods. Jess was helping. After her fling with Brody had fizzled, she’d asked to stay on at Base Camp after the show ended. She’d soon met a man in town who shared her interest in sustainability and gotten engaged recently. They lived in one of the new tiny houses. She’d been pitching in on the documentary projects, but she seemed to have boundless energy for everything going on in the community.

 
After they filled their plates, they headed to their own tiny house.

  When he and Renata moved in together, they’d found they had similar collections of artifacts from their separate journeys around the world, and now their home reflected that. “It’s like a teeny, tiny museum,” Avery had once told him, and he agreed; their collection was small but interesting.

  They worked quietly together to get Adalynne settled, her button nose, rosebud mouth and tiny hands too cute for words to Greg’s way of thinking. He’d secretly hoped for a son, thinking he’d know how to bond with a boy better than a girl, but as soon as she was born, she’d wrapped him around her finger. He was probably going to spoil Adalynne rotten. Good thing she had a sensible mother, who would set them both straight if need be.

  Greg pulled Renata down beside him on the small but comfortable couch in the living room, and they watched the others trail up to the manor or to the bunkhouse or to any number of places depending on where they lived and what chores they needed to finish before settling down for the night. Greg loved his home’s huge windows and the way they brought the outside into their little space.

  They sat at opposite ends of the couch. He absently rubbed her feet with one hand, feeding himself tidbits with the other, washing it all down with a beer.

  “I think I talked more today than I usually do in a month, and that’s saying something.” He’d been tasked with ushering folks from place to place, suggesting what parts of Base Camp they might find interesting and trying to keep it so no one place got swamped.

  “You should be exhausted, but you’re not.”

  “I’m energized,” he admitted. That’s how he felt all the time now because he’d found the perfect occupation in the perfect place. “What about you? How’d your day go?”

  “It went well.” She sighed and leaned back, offering him her other foot. “People are excited to find out I’m going to direct a feature-length movie that isn’t a documentary. I wouldn’t have thought anyone remembered I wanted to, seeing as I took so much time off.”

  “A year is hardly that much time.”

  “Not many people have the luxury to do that,” she pointed out. “I think a lot of them wondered if I’d let my career go once Adalynne was born.”

  Greg shook his head. “I doubt that. You’re too driven.”

  “I was afraid some of them would think I should just stay home.”

  He shook his head again. “Your love for your work is too obvious. You can’t be contained for long. Even if you devoted yourself to Adalynne until she grew up, you’d go back to film then. You can’t help yourself.”

  “I guess not.”

  Renata snuggled into the puffy cushions of the couch, closing her eyes and letting Greg’s fingers work their magic. He might be energized, but she was exhausted. Adalynne still woke up to nurse most nights, and Renata had been scrambling for months to put together her feature film project. It documented the journey of a young Peruvian girl from her traditional upbringing in her mountain-top village to her rise through environmental activism to politics. Based on the life of one of the girls she helped support after the mudslides wiped out Mayahuay so many years ago, she’d built on the bare bones of the story with Philomena’s permission and helped to create a movie that would grab a wide audience. Philomena had come to Base Camp two months ago to work a paid internship with her, with the hopes of transferring the skills she learned to Peru to start making films of her own. As they worked together, they hoped to create a program Renata could use to teach skills to other young women like Philomena and satisfy that part of her dream.

  Tonight she just wanted to hang out with her husband and child, however. She was more relieved than she could say about the way the day had gone. What she hadn’t told Greg was how worried she’d been that their visitors would blame her for her part in making it hard for the others to win Base Camp, or that they’d think she was lazy taking time off, or was a bad mother for going back to work as soon as she had, even if she was working right here, which meant she got to see Adalynne all the time.

  That was succumbing to old fears. In the first months after marrying Greg, she’d struggled to really feel a part of Base Camp after so many months of hovering around the outskirts filming their activities. She’d assimilated over time, however, so it was interesting the way those old worries cropped up today. Doubtless the visitors reminded her of Base Camp’s audience, especially since Byron had been documenting the day for a special follow-up show Fulsom wanted to run.

  Those times of being on the outskirts were long gone, though. She was as much a part of the community as anyone else, and to her surprise she was loving it. She appreciated how the other women made such an effort to include her in their get-togethers, especially. She hadn’t learned to cultivate female friendships in her childhood as she moved from foster home to foster home. Sometimes she felt she was getting a second chance at being a teenager, especially when someone suggested a women’s-only movie night at the manor when it wasn’t booked, and they all piled together to watch something sweet and sappy, eat popcorn and stay up way too late.

  She’d grown to be grateful for all the men at Base Camp, too. It wasn’t just women she’d avoided when she was younger. Now she was learning that for all their rough-and-tumble ways, she could appreciate their humor, energy and dedication to getting things done—and the way the men here always stepped up to protect their homes and families.

  People were… okay, she decided. She didn’t need to keep them at arm’s length, boss them around or always be in absolute control of the situation. She could be one of the group and let things happen the way they happened.

  It was a new way to be in the world.

  Adalynne uttered a little sound from her crib, and they both stilled, listened and waited until it was clear she wouldn’t wake up.

  Motherhood had softened her in some ways, Renata mused as Greg worked away on her tired feet, and it had made her fiercer in others. No one was going to hurt her daughter. Nothing could ever persuade her to leave Adalynne behind.

  She was determined to be here to usher Adalynne through every step toward adulthood. And if something did ever happen to her and Greg, there would be a dozen people ready to care for and love their daughter for as long as she needed them.

  That’s what security was. Not money. Not possessions, or accolades, or career triumphs.

  It was knowing there was a community of like-minded individuals ready to step in and raise your child should you ever need them.

  “Ready for bed?” Greg asked softly.

  “More than ready.”

  “Mommy!” Iris cried, toddling toward Win, a grin splitting her little face. Her red-blond hair glinted in the last rays of the setting sun. Angus’s heart squeezed to see his wife bend down and scoop up their daughter, twirling her around until Win’s skirts swirled, too.

  At just over a year old, Iris Eliza McBride was one of the happiest creatures Angus had ever met. Her unending wonder and joy at every new sight that met her eyes kept him looking sharp for new things to show her, just to get to experience it with her.

  She was a handful in the greenhouses these days, wanting to touch, tug, examine and squeeze the life out of everything she could reach, which made her dangerous around the hydroponics setup. He tended to take her to the outside gardens when he was caring for her so she could dig to her heart’s content in the dirt, “plant” sticks and rocks and dig them up all over again. She was a bundle of energy until she conked out. Then she loved for them to read her stories, especially when he put his accent on thick and acted out all the characters’ voices.

  Iris attended Base Camp’s child-care group every weekday morning, during which time he and Win scrambled to get their work done. They ate lunch together, put Iris down for her afternoon nap and got some more things done—or spent some time together, then took turns with Iris through the rest of the day. With Kai cooking most of their lunches and dinners and all the extra hands around, everything see
med to get done sooner or later.

  Angus was working hard to figure out how they could grow more vegetables through the winter, which meant he was learning a lot more about hydroponics, greenhouse growing and the green energy systems in use at Base Camp than he’d previously known. He’d gotten to know many experts in the field online and video chatted with them often, reporting on his progress and brainstorming new systems to try.

  His cousin, Douglas, who’d created so much havoc when he first arrived at Base Camp, had moved to California to work with Fulsom and now traveled with Fulsom the way Renata once had. It was his job to arrange the billionaire’s meetings and appearances, troubleshoot problems and smooth the way so that Fulsom could simply show up and do his thing. Douglas was making contacts in every industry and level of politics and couldn’t be happier. The rest of their family was happy, too. Angus had realized how much the part of his family left behind in Scotland had resented the opportunities won by those who’d made it here. Now Douglas was flourishing, and communications among them all had ramped up.

  He thought almost every living member of his extended family had visited Base Camp in the last year. His mother and stepfather, John, came to see him every few months. At first he’d been suspicious of her attempts to reconnect, but now he welcomed them. Everyone made mistakes, he realized. Everyone wanted to be loved. Being able to depend on his mother—finally—had healed something he hadn’t even known was broken in him.

  As for Win, she was thriving, too.

  Angus reached down to kiss her when she approached, Iris laughing in her arms.

  As “his girls” leaned against him, delighted in the bear hug he gave them, warmth filled his chest. At one time he’d thought he’d lost Win forever, and it had been too reminiscent of the way he’d lost his mother for comfort. Now she was here with him for good, his ring on her finger, her presence in his house a reminder every single day that she’d pledged her life to his and loved him the way he loved her.