“Are you coming?” Maria had placed the gown in a garment bag and was gathering her things. “It’ll be good for you to get out of here for a bit.”
“Yes, I’m coming.” Maria was right; she needed to escape, if only for an hour or two.
Chapter Three
‡
Another day, another walk.
Angus paced the familiar track down to Pittance Creek, keeping an eye on the path to avoid the worst of the mud as a light wind whistled through the trees. It was early March and unusually mild. After a rough winter, the snow had melted early, and spring was definitely in the air. Either he or Walker would marry midway through April. Whoever was left would marry before the show ended on June first.
Time was ticking away fast, and he still had no idea how he’d force himself to wed a woman he didn’t love or what would happen when the show ended.
When he rounded the last bend before the creek, he was surprised to see that someone was there before him.
Avery Lightfoot.
He supposed it made sense she’d be searching for solitude, too. She’d had it hard lately and had reasons of her own to escape the cameras and constant companionship of everyone else.
“Hello,” he called out as he approached her, careful not to startle her. When she turned, he was discomfited to see her eyes were red. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“I’m glad you did. The last thing I need is to wallow in self-pity. I think I’ve been doing that long enough.”
He wasn’t sure what comfort he could offer her, and in truth sometimes he wanted to give her a shake. Avery was in love with Walker. And Walker was in love with Avery. At this point it was sheer cussedness keeping them apart.
It hurt when someone you loved didn’t see you the way you wanted to be seen, though. Walker had as good as accused Avery of stealing from him, and she wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. It was easy from Angus’s vantage point to call that stubbornness, but it probably felt different from hers.
Don’t let him go, he wanted to tell her. He’d let Win go, not that he’d had much choice, and now he felt like some part of him had died.
“It isn’t just Walker. It’s everyone,” she said as if she’d read his mind. “It’s all different now. I wish I’d never come in the first place.”
“Are you still fighting with Riley, Nora and Savannah?”
“I don’t know. Yes,” she added. “I am. I’m so angry at them. And they want me to simply forget how they acted. What if everyone they cared about turned on them and called them thieves? I’ve always been so loyal to them.”
“In their defense…” She had secretly filmed a series called Stealing from SEALs, after all, and Clem had taken her footage and spliced it together in a way that emphasized the stealing and not its intended silliness. Avery hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but Clem certainly had.
“It was supposed to be funny!” she exploded. “Since when does no one have a sense of humor?”
“Since winter came.” It was true; as soon as winter had arrived at Base Camp, living together in close quarters had made things more difficult. Then the attacks on the community had started. Food had been stolen, equipment broken. Someone had let the bison out and left the greenhouse doors open when there was snow on the ground outside. Every last one of them lived with the constant fear that all their hard work would be snatched away. They were less than three months from winning this thing—or losing everything they’d struggled so hard to build.
“We’re all under a lot of stress,” he added.
She shot him a look. “I heard whoever picks the short straw tomorrow has to spend thirty days with a backup bride.”
“If it’s Walker, you have nothing to worry about. He loves you.”
“So much that he gave me a pair of mittens,” she said acidly and held them up. They were made of rabbit fur with beadwork at the cuffs. Probably a traditional design, Angus thought.
“Those are nice.”
“Dead animal things aren’t going to win me back.” She dropped her arm again.
“Avery.” Angus didn’t know what to say to her. “Don’t drive away someone you care about.”
“He’s already away. Don’t forget that other woman he’s promised to.”
As if Angus or any of the rest of them could. Walker had never explained what that phrase meant and seemed to have done nothing to clear up the situation. Yet he made no bones about how much he loved Avery. Angus’s chest tightened. What a mess.
“Anyway,” Avery said, more subdued, “maybe you’ll draw the short straw.”
“Maybe,” he said shortly.
“Maybe you’ll like the backup bride.”
“Nah,” Angus said. He already knew he didn’t. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, lass. I’m spoiled for marriage. If I was meant to be happy, I’d have ended up with Win. As it is”—he shrugged dramatically, laying his Scottish accent on thick to belie the gravity of what he was saying—“when this is all over, I’ll be stuck in a loveless marriage.”
Avery nodded. “I know what you mean. When this is all over, I’m going to end up alone.”
“Here we are,” Maria said. “Watch your step.”
Win followed her onto the front stoop of a tidy blue stucco bungalow with white shutters, stopping herself from rolling her eyes as two of her bodyguards took up their positions outside the front door, and a third made as if to come inside.
“Please wait for me.” Win beckoned him back out, knowing full well the minute she shut the door, he’d circle around the back.
“We should check the interior,” the man said.
“The interior is fine. Please—wait outside.”
They were still in San Mateo, but the neighborhood couldn’t be more different from Win’s. Here, the houses crowded together, with multiple cars parked in front of each, testament to the mix of tenants living together in order to afford the cost. She knew Maria,
