“I was born in Scotland,” he began.
“Where in Scotland? Do you have siblings? Did you live in a little village or a bigger town? I love your accent. Did you grow up farming? Do they have farms there?”
Angus blinked. Waited to see if she was done. She waved him on, but as he opened his mouth to speak, her gaze slid sideways to Byron and his camera.
“Don’t look this way,” Byron admonished her.
“Sorry!” She grinned at him. Grinned at Angus. “So?”
He’d lost track of all her questions. “I was born in Scotland,” he repeated. “On a farm. Near the west coast.”
“How long did you live there? Are there ranches like Westfield there? Do you guys have a president or a parliamentary system, and how does Great Britain work? Are you three countries with one government? Or three countries with three governments but one main government, or—”
“The UK has four countries, actually,” Byron broke in. “You’re forgetting Wales.”
“You’re right! Have you ever been to Wales?”
Angus wasn’t sure if she was asking him or Byron, but it didn’t matter since she didn’t give either of them time to answer.
“Welshmen are the coal miners, right? And they sing a lot. And for some reason people in England look down on them, but I don’t know why. Do you know why? Do you speak Welsh? Do you know why they have all those extra letters in their words?”
Leslie was off again.
Angus sat back, realizing he didn’t need to say anything. Leslie’s questions would fill the time nicely. In fact, he was beginning to think if you could harness the energy of those questions, you might be able to power most of the state of Montana.
As she rattled on, he let his mind pursue the possibility. Would Leslie’s question be construed as a renewable source of energy, or would you have to argue they ran on fossil fuel, since most food in the United States was raised with inputs based on petroleum…
He made a mental note to ask Jericho.
“What?” He realized both Byron and Leslie were staring at him.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Leslie repeated cheerfully. “Is that because you were an only child, or the oldest child? Sometimes older children don’t talk as much as younger ones do, but sometimes they talk more, so I don’t think it’s about birth order at all, really. I think—”
Angus looked to Byron for some sympathy. Leslie was something else—
But Byron was too busy filming her to notice.
“You’re working,” Boone said when he entered the main greenhouse and shut the door firmly behind him late that afternoon.
“I’m working,” Win agreed, tensing. She’d known Boone would come looking for her sooner or later, even if Avery had slammed her door on him earlier. As self-appointed leader of the community, he made it his business to keep an eye on things. She’d been grateful to be alone in here so far this afternoon, tending to the chores she used to do daily here. She needed to ease back into Base Camp life and get used to the idea of Angus spending time with another woman.
If only she’d never left—never hurt Angus so badly. She wished she’d gotten the chance to explain things to him before Boone had whisked him away. She’d been trying not to think of how his lunch was going with Leslie, but it had been hard to think of anything else.
What was the backup bride like? Was she pretty? Sophisticated?
Loyal?
Angus had proven himself to be loyal to her despite the way she’d abandoned him, and now he thought the worst of her.
“You plan on staying this time?”
Boone wasn’t going to give her an inch, was he?
“Yes, I do.”
“You know Angus is off meeting a woman who actually wants to marry him?”
She nodded. “I want to marry him, too. You know that.”
He shrugged. “Here’s the thing. We can’t afford to let you screw this up.” The tall, broad-shouldered, sandy-haired Boone was someone Win had come to like during her early days at Base Camp. Now he felt like a stranger. Was he angry at her—or simply afraid she’d let them all down again?
She couldn’t blame him for questioning her staying power. She and Angus had been in love when she left, and she could imagine how difficult it had been for Angus to commit to marrying someone else.
“You said you left because you realized you wanted to be rich.”
“I oversimplified things, thinking that would make it easier on Angus.”
Boone raised an eyebrow.
“I panicked.” She laid a hand on her belly. “I found out I was pregnant. Five minutes later my father called to tell me my mom had cancer. Put yourself in my shoes for just a minute. Could you have turned your back on your mother?”
He considered this. “What about Angus? He came in second place?”
She closed her eyes. “I panicked,” she repeated.
“What happens if you panic again?”
The door opened. Chris, one of the cameramen, entered the greenhouse. “Hell, Boone, if you’re chewing Win out, we need to get that on camera.”
“Too late,” Boone told him. “So,” he said to Win as Chris began filming, other crew members crowding in behind him. “Leslie’s here to stay for thirty days, and she’s going to be Angus’s top priority during that time. You owe it to him to stay out of his way. I mean it—I don’t want any more drama here.”
“I didn’t come here to cause drama,” Win said, stung by his tone.
“What did you come for?”
“I just told you. To marry Angus. I love him, and I believe in what you’re doing here, Boone. I want to be a part of it—for the long haul.”
“I want to believe you,” Boone admitted.
