And then Elizabeth would set him free from the promise their grandmothers had made each other thirty years ago.
Walker nodded in satisfaction as Angus waltzed past with his new wife.
For far too long he’d walked under the shadow of a past he’d had no hand in, bound by promises made by others when he was only a child. He counted himself an honorable man and as such he’d done his duty to his family by growing up, keeping out of trouble and getting his degree. He’d served his country in the Navy for well over a decade, most of that time in the SEALs. He’d made himself into the man his grandmother, Sue Norton, expected him to be. Even before his father’s death, she’d been the one to make a home for him on the Crow reservation and she’d done most of the raising of him, with a little help from his maternal grandparents in town and a whole lot less from his mother.
Tomorrow Sue expected him to hold up his side of the bargain she’d made for him before he’d learned to talk. Being honorable, he’d certainly go through the motions. He’d show up at DelMonacos, the restaurant she’d chosen for the grand occasion. He’d greet Elizabeth Blaine, the woman she expected him to marry in order to heal the wounds his father had caused. And then he’d sit back and let Elizabeth explain that as a woman of the twenty-first century she had no intention of letting a couple of old biddies saddle her with a husband she didn’t want.
“Hey, wait up!” Clay called.
Walker realized he’d put on a burst of speed and left him behind. “Gotta meet Avery,” he called back and kept going.
“Avery—wait up!”
Avery Lightfoot paused on the front stoop of the bunkhouse and waited for Eve Olsen to grab her jacket and follow her outside. Both of them were dressed for another era, following Base Camp tradition. Avery and three of her friends had first come to Westfield ranch nearly a year ago, prepared to disappear from the rest of the world for six months and spend all their time at their artistic pursuits. Avery, a thwarted actress, meant to write a screenplay and devote herself to finding a way to making a living in film. In some ways, she’d achieved those goals, but not in the way she’d hoped.
She still yearned to act in romantic comedies—or romantic dramas—or just about any role that featured a love story. As the child of one of the most romantic couples she’d ever known, how could she long for anything but?
She, Riley, Savannah and Nora, who’d all roomed together in college, had come up with the idea of dressing in Regency clothes as a joke, at first, and then a more serious commitment to their plan. The idea was that if they dressed in old-fashioned outfits they’d be too embarrassed to leave the ranch and instead would spend hours each day pursuing their goals, and more hours walking around like Jane Austen heroines, with only the natural landscape to distract them. Surely six months of that would produce all kinds of screenplays, novels, music and art.
It hadn’t quite worked out that way, but here they were, still in their Regency gowns. All the women who’d joined Base Camp, the sustainable community they were participating in, had adopted the style, as well.
Avery didn’t mind; she loved anything beautiful and their dresses certainly were that. Besides, anything remotely connected to Jane Austen had to be romantic—right?
Unfortunately, the romance she was currently conducting with Walker, a huge, quiet, frustrating Native American man who she adored despite herself, was turning out far more gothic than Regency with each passing day.
Walker had to marry in forty days. She was sure he liked her—cared for her—even loved her.
But he’d been “promised” to some other woman he wouldn’t name or discuss, whatever that meant.
It was all infuriating.
“What’s up?” she asked Eve, ready to think about anything else than her current predicament.
“Are you excited about the commission?”
Avery could see that Eve was. She probably should be thrilled that Martin Fulsom wanted to fund a two-hour retrospective on Base Camp—the reality television show they’d all been a part of since last June. Instead of having his own film crews handle the production, which would be the sensible thing to do, he’d offered it to Eve, Renata Devon and herself, since they were trying to start a film production company here.
“I think it’s really nice of Fulsom,” Avery managed.
“That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic,” Eve said.
“You know I really want to do feature films. All I ever get to do is documentary-style stuff. Where’s the story? Where’s the love?”
“I think there’s plenty of love stories at Base Camp.”
“You know what I mean,” Avery groaned. “I just feel like I’ll never get to do what I really want to do.”
“It’s just one show, and we’ll have to do it fast, anyway. Renata wants to meet tomorrow. We need to start going through old footage and figure out a storyline to pull it together in a new way. That’s a challenge for you, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.” But it wasn’t the challenge she wanted. She wanted to work on a real movie. And act in it, too. She wanted to play a character who found love in the strangest place, or despite all odds. She wanted a fairy-tale wedding at the end. A final look back where she held a baby in her arms. She wanted so damn much.
That was her problem.
“It’s Walker and that promise Sue made about him. It’s got you tied up in knots,” Eve said.
“How can Sue think she has any say in who he marries—and why is Walker letting her?” Avery burst out. “I don’t get how a grandmother could have that much control over her grandson, even if she did raise him.”
“Sue is pretty fierce.” Eve smiled and touched her arm. “Don’t panic. Walker loves you—everyone knows that. He’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t
