Avery couldn’t decipher what he thought about it all. Despite his joke about being back on deck, he didn’t speak to her the rest of the evening, although he shot her curious looks now and then.
She was relieved when everyone retired for the evening, but when it was just the six of them in the bunkhouse, Leslie started in on her.
“Now you’re free to marry whoever you want, and Gabe wants to marry you, but you want to marry Walker, but Elizabeth wants to marry him, too, so it’s all just as much a muddle as it was before, if you ask me. I wonder if any of you has considered pol-y-am-or-y.” She said each syllable slowly, and Avery had the feeling Leslie had come across the concept recently.
“No. We haven’t,” Walker growled at her.
Leslie tossed her hair. “Maybe you’re too much of a stick in the mud for your own good,” she said tartly.
“Okay, Leslie. Time for bed,” Byron whisked her off to their corner of the bunkhouse.
For one moment, Avery thought Elizabeth might be amused, but a second later, her face smoothed out again and she was as serious as ever. They got ready silently, except for the continuous whispers coming from Byron and Leslie, and Walker turned out the lights when everyone had climbed into their bedrolls.
Two hours later, Avery would swear every person in the room was still awake.
Elizabeth kept sighing. Gabe tossed and turned as if bedbugs were making a meal of him. Leslie and Byron were still whispering. And Walker—
When she turned his way, she caught the glint of his eyes. He was awake and watching her.
Longing, deep and primal, made her ache to be down at Pittance Creek in his arms. She’d fantasized about just such an occasion too many times to count lying here at night, but tonight it was far worse, because tonight she knew if she could get to the banks of the creek, she could be with Walker for real.
She bit back the groan that fought to escape her throat. To be with Walker—to feel him moving inside her—
She rolled onto her other side. What was he thinking?
Was he imagining making love to her? Imagining stroking her skin, exploring her body? Heat washed through her at the thought. How would he go about it? What position would he choose the first time they were together?
What would he feel like under her hands?
Elizabeth sighed again. Gabe turned in his bedding. Leslie whispered on and on to Byron, then giggled, a sound like the scrape of nails across a blackboard.
Avery started counting but gave up when she reached 546 and still no one had fallen asleep. She turned to face Walker again. Saw him staring back. Longed to cross the distance between them and slide right into his bedroll no matter who was awake to see them.
She began to count again. Slowly. All the while imagining what she would do to Walker when they were—
When she opened her eyes again, the morning sun shone in the windows. Everyone was finally sleeping. Except Walker—
Who was still watching her.
His tender, regretful smile made up for everything.
Almost.
Had he ever spent a more agonizing night?
Once, in Yemen, he thought, when they’d tried to rescue four aid workers and several dozen schoolchildren caught in a bombed-out school between rival sides during its civil war. It had been his turn on the satellite phone to keep up the spirits of the workers while Boone, Clay and Jericho took turns sleeping and working out a new plan to save them.
They’d talked to those aid workers for days and nights on end in four-hour shifts. Walker had been paired with Andrew Chin, a religious man from Dallas, Texas, who’d been a veterinarian for thirty years before shifting to NGO work.
They’d spoken of death that night, of what constituted a life well lived, what could be done to save the children, not just in Yemen but in perilous circumstances around the world—and what Andrew had learned during his veterinary practice.
“A dignity comes to animals at the end that many humans lack,” Andrew had said. “Animals accept their fate. Not all people do.”
Walker thought Andrew had been one of the ones who did. He’d been calm that night, willing to discuss hope and resignation. “I have no regrets,” he’d said near dawn.
Through the long hours of the past night, Walker tried to be resigned, even after Leslie, Byron, Elizabeth and Gabe finally dropped off one by one, and he realized it was too late to slip off to the creek—Avery had fallen asleep, too.
It had been a bad idea, anyway, with a stalker out there. He’d let his desire override his common sense.
Now he was beyond tired into a realm where he could concentrate on only a single thing at a time, and that one thing was Avery.
He made a call before breakfast. Sue sighed when she answered.
“Another meeting,” he said without preamble. “Get over here.”
“I’ve got work. I have to go in early.”
Walker counted to ten. He’d told Avery it would all be settled by lunchtime.
“When you’re done, then.” He knew better than to push. She had a mulish tone in her voice today he knew too well. When Sue dug in on an issue, it was rare to be able to dig her out.
“I watched the show last night,” she said.
“Then you know what I mean to say.” He hung up. Sue would come, and she’d be ready for a fight.
He went to find Avery. Relayed his conversation to her, then did the same thing with Elizabeth. The two women’s reactions were remarkably similar. A disgusted shake of the head. A sigh of frustration.
“Fine,” Avery said.
“Whatever.” Elizabeth turned her back to him.
Brody arrived at Base Camp with the crew, ate breakfast and presented himself to Walker and Avery when it was over. “I’m up for chores,” he said brightly.
“What are you even still
