Clay ushered her inside, and she sighed happily. It was as beautiful as all the others, the floor-to-ceiling, south-facing windows letting in the glorious June sunshine. The kitchen was as tidy and inviting as a fairy-tale cottage.
She noticed the other builders had remained outside, and she wondered if they were all standing guard or if some of them were working on a different project. She peeked out a window and was relieved to see Nora sitting comfortably on a bench someone had placed nearby.
“I wanted your opinion about a few things, as a close friend of Walker’s,” Clay said.
She shot him an uncertain look. Clay didn’t know how things stood; he thought Walker was marrying Elizabeth. Surely he saw how inappropriate it was to ask her anything that had to do with him.
“I wanted your opinion,” Clay repeated slowly. “About what you’d like to see in Walker’s tiny house. Just a few details.”
She tried to decipher his expression. What was he really trying to say?
Clay huffed in exasperation and lowered his voice. “Look, Avery, I don’t know what’s going on, and any minute a film crew is going to burst through that door.” A hubbub outside proved his prediction true. Were the others trying to distract the crew and give them a few minutes? “But I know Walker, and he’s not marrying anyone but you. So tell me what you want in this house. Quickly.”
Should she pretend she didn’t know what Clay was talking about? Avery decided against it.
“I love Curtis’s woodwork,” she said. “I know Walker likes anything that reminds him of the natural world. Clean lines. Nature needs no ornament, that kind of thing. Oh, and I want a shelf right here. Big enough to display the fan you all thought I stole from him.”
Clay made a face. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “We can do that. Do you want the outside edge left raw? That can be striking.”
“That sounds great.”
“What about you? Anything special you want?”
“I just want a home,” she said simply. “A forever home. A place to raise my kids. A place that feels safe and cozy and like a big hug.”
“A big hug.” Clay nodded. “Something natural and clean. We’re on it.”
A camera crew burst in, and Avery decided it was time to call on her acting skills. “You’re asking me?” she said loudly, allowing her voice to slide up an octave in mock fury. “Walker’s marrying someone else, and you want me to help you decorate his house? Clay Pickett, you can go… screw yourself!”
She flounced through the knot of crew members and slipped out the door, knowing Clay would be amused by her theatrics.
“Should we take you back to the chickens?” Curtis asked as he and the other builders fell in with her.
“I’d rather hang out with you,” she whispered. “Demand to show me your plans for the new tiny houses you’re going to build when the show is over.”
Curtis brightened. “Definitely.” He led her over to sit by Nora. “You have to see the plans. We’re showing them to everyone. Getting all the input we can.” He ducked closer for a moment. “You sure you don’t mind?” he whispered back as the camera crew scrambled to surround them. “I know it’s a touchy subject.”
She didn’t mind a bit—now that she knew she wouldn’t have to live in one.
Chapter Ten
‡
“Oh, my goodness,” Elizabeth said a couple of mornings later as people got ready for their jobs after breakfast. “She did it. Avery came through for us. She got everyone talking about the vote on the drilling legislation.”
Walker held out a hand, and Elizabeth gave him her phone. He scrolled through a social media feed and saw what she meant. Video after video addressed the topic in different ways. There was a short video featuring a teenage girl in tears reading a long list of species that were being driven to extinction by climate change. A more professional video from a twentysomething student talking about oil spills in pristine environments. An ad for a luxury hotel. A post from someone they both knew on the reservation. An ad for an airline. Walker looked questioningly at her.
“Ignore those. I travel for my job a lot,” she told him. “They’ve got me pegged as a rich adventurer. Look at this one.”
She scrolled down a little and showed him a ten-second video whose background footage featured oil derricks and a skull and crossbones. A young man flashed on the screen. “Are… you… trying… to… kill… us… all?” he screamed in a thrasher-band snarl.
“Huh,” Walker said.
“Whoops, not that one,” Elizabeth said. She adjusted something on-screen, scrolled a little. “Look.”
These posts were far more polished, narrated by political commentators.
“It’s all over the internet this morning, Barry,” one of them said. “It’s a groundswell that came out of nowhere. All the kids are talking about it.”
“About what, Neil?” the other man said.
“Drilling in the arctic. The opening of the Renning field. They’re saying it’s the final straw—the straw that’s going to break the camel’s back, if you will. The doomsday clock hitting midnight. If Lawrence Energy gets its way, all bets are off for the human race.”
“We’ve heard that language before, Neil,” the pundit said. “Seems kind of overblown.”
“We’ve never seen pushback like this. Not everywhere at once. Not targeted at a single company whose project is the basis for a single piece of legislation. I’ve been calling senators, and this burst of activity is changing minds, Barry. Yesterday, I would have said this legislation was going to pass, hands down. Now I’m not so sure. And word is, there’s some damning testimony due to be aired at the upcoming hearing.”
“I’ll be interested to see what happens next.”
Elizabeth took back the phone. “Avery is smart. You all don’t take her seriously enough.”
“I take her very seriously.”
“Those guys are right, you know,” she added, studying him. “We might be getting close to having the support
