SEALs of Chance Creek 01 - A SEAL's Oath

by Cora Seton

  Meanwhile, she needed to act normally. “First things first,” Riley said briskly. “Let’s unpack our things, and then we’ll go through the house and make a list of anything else we’ll need. Those supplies we ordered will be delivered this morning. If anything’s missing, we can place a new order later today. We’ll start with a little breakfast after we’re dressed. Working clothes for now.” Her friends’ faces echoed the same mixture of excitement and trepidation she felt. “Everyone ready?”

  “We burned our regular clothes,” Avery said. “There’s no going back now.”

  “Group hug?” Savannah said.

  The group hug ritual had stood them in good stead for years and they fell into it willingly. Even Nora lightened up as they swayed together, laughing and shrieking until it became more of a rugby scrum.

  “What would Jane think?” Avery cried.

  “She’d think we should get busy with our new lives,” Savannah said. “Let’s go!”

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  BOONE STOOD ON the gently sloping hillside that would soon become the heart of his community. It faced the larger hill upon which Westfield stood. He should have been thinking about his plans, but instead he gazed at the manor.

  He wished he hadn’t beat such a hasty retreat. It had only taken moments in Riley’s presence for his entire body to be aware of her proximity. The tomboy had been replaced with a curvy, delicious woman who still knew how to push his buttons. He was intrigued by the idea of getting to know her again. The years would have changed Riley—matured her. What were her passions—besides Jane Austen? Did she still ride like the wind?

  What made her laugh?

  He pulled a ball of twine from his pocket, reached down to pick up one of the stakes he’d brought and pushed it into the ground. He used a tape measure to mark the distance and planted another stake eight feet away. He kept working until he’d marked out a rectangle and affixed twine to the stakes.

  When he was finished, Boone moved on to make another rectangle, and another. He toiled under the rising sun until he’d marked out ten of them. Stepping back to survey his handiwork, Boone frowned. He didn’t like the position of the last one. He undid his work and started over, his mind drifting back to Riley.

  He wondered what she did at the vitamin company. She’d gone to school to study painting, but that wasn’t a very useful degree. She’d said nothing about exhibiting her work. Was she still an artist?

  He thought back to the sketches she’d sometimes made. Quick little pencil pictures she’d crumple up or pocket if he showed them any attention. He’d never really thought about them. They were just a habit she had, like Jericho tapping his pencil or Clay cracking his knuckles when they were teens.

  Were there other things she’d hidden from him? He didn’t like that idea. It struck at the heart of his memories of his childhood to think that he hadn’t known Riley as well as he thought. It occurred to him that she’d done a good job of hiding something else back then. Unless her desire to dance with him that last evening had come out of nowhere, she’d liked him—maybe for a long time—and he’d never guessed.

  He’d have to pay more attention to Riley this time around, Boone told himself. He couldn’t be the same self-absorbed teenager that had trampled on her feelings. Not if he wanted her to agree to marry him.

  It was time to get to know Riley all over again.

  And he looked forward to the task.

  “WHAT IS HE doing now?” Savannah asked when she caught Riley gazing out the window toward an area where Boone was marking out rectangles with stakes. They’d finished their chores and had come downstairs after changing out of their work clothes into prettier dresses in preparation for their first afternoon of art, music and writing. Riley had made Avery give her their cell phone for a minute so she could check her messages, even if it wasn’t her time yet. There was still no word from Russ.

  “The same as before. Do you think he’s planning a garden? Maybe those are vegetable beds.”

  “If they were, why wouldn’t they be lined up?” Savannah peered down the hill. “We need binoculars.”

  “Put it on the list,” Avery said, coming to join them. “Those are way too wide for vegetable beds. You couldn’t reach across to weed them.”

  “Maybe he’s sending a message to the mother ship,” Nora said.

  “If a flying saucer comes and sucks him up I’m going right back to California,” Savannah said.

  “Wait a minute,” Riley said, her stomach sinking. “Housing! That’s got to be some kind of housing he’s planning down there!” He’d said he was going to build by the outbuildings.

  “The rectangles are too small. Those aren’t even big enough to be trailers!” Savannah protested.

  “Tiny trailers?” Nora asked.

  “Tiny houses?” Avery said, brightening. “Like the ones on TV. Those are so cute!”

  “Tiny houses wouldn’t be so bad,” Savannah said.

  “Are you kidding? They’d be awful!” Riley said. “He’s ruining Westfield!”

  “It could be like a village. Villages are cute,” Avery said.

  “He’s not building a village! He’s building a bloody trailer park! On my land!”

  “It’s not really your land anymore, though, is it?” Savannah said. “So before you fly off the handle, let’s go ask him. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.”

  “We’ll go for our first Jane Austen walk,” Nora added. “It’ll be fun.”

  If Nora was the one rallying her, she was really in trouble, Riley thought as they made for the front door again.

  “Wait. We ought to be wearing our bonnets,” Savannah said. “No Regency woman would go outside without her bonnet.”

  Since bonnets were a new item of clothing for everyone, it took some minutes for them to put them on and adjust them to their satisfaction.

  “I wish I could wear my spencer, too, but it’s too warm,” Savannah said, tying a bow in the wide ribbons of her pale blue bonnet that nicely complemented the blue of her dress.

  “I know. Me, too,” Avery said. Hers was a rich brown.

  “Focus, before he gets too far into whatever it is he’s doing down there,” Riley said, although she knew what they meant. Spencer jackets looked so cute with their gowns. She’d chosen a straw bonnet that would go well with all of her dresses. It was made so that she could swap out ribbons to match her outfits. Today her ribbon was moss green. Nora’s bonnet was a deep burgundy echoed in the pattern of her dress. It set off her dark hair and pretty face.

  They set off and despite her concerns, Riley had to smile at the picture they made. The four of them looked like the Bennett sisters as they walked together, their long straight dresses flapping a little and wrapping around their legs. The breeze teased the strings of their bonnets, too. All in all they looked lovely, she thought. Lovely and far more innocent than they really were.

  If Boone was building houses he’d find out just how innocent she wasn’t.

  The sunshine and fresh air soothed Riley’s frazzled nerves. She took a couple of deep breaths, drinking in Westfield’s familiar scents. It lacked the tang of livestock it used to have, and she wondered if Boone meant to buy horses. She couldn’t imagine the Horsemen without them. As kids those boys practically lived in the saddle. She had, too, but she’d never been as skilled as they were. Boone had been fearless in the rodeo. Jericho, too.

  Westfield seemed empty without the herds moving among the pastures and her grandparents and their hired hands working the spread. Boone hadn’t mentioned anything about cattle, however. How were the people in his commune going to keep themselves afloat?

  Boone noticed them when they were still some distance away and straightened from his work. He watched them approach, his expression inscrutable, but Riley felt a little thrill under his gaze. A thrill she tried to ignore.

  Unsuccessfully.

  “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon, ladies.”

  “What are
you doing?” Riley asked without preamble.

  “We’re curious,” Savannah added quickly, as if trying to soften Riley’s attack.

  “Glad you came to ask. I’m staking out housing units for my community. I want to get a feel for how they’ll look.”

  “Why are they so small?” Avery asked. She walked over to survey one of the staked-out perimeters.

  “And why are they all facing the same way?” Savannah chimed in.

  “I’m positioning the widest part of the buildings to face south.” Boone’s gesture described an arc over the sky like the path of the sun. “That way they make the best use of available sunshine. Their roofs will be pitched carefully to block the sun during the height of summer, and let it in all winter long. We’ll make sure to capture that solar gain by using materials that can hold the heat and radiate it back…” He trailed off and shrugged. “You get the picture.”

  “But why are they so tiny?” Avery asked again.

  “That makes them easier to heat. You four are going to bankrupt yourselves heating that monstrosity up there this winter.” He nodded toward Westfield. “We’ll spend pennies to keep warm down here.”

  “We won’t bankrupt ourselves,” Riley snapped. They’d be long gone by Christmas, after all, a thought that gave her an uncomfortable pang. This time when she left Westfield, she wouldn’t be coming back. “Besides, there’s a fireplace in every room. If we were staying here, we could burn wood all winter long.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” When she didn’t answer he went on. “From what I remember, those old fireplaces haven’t been converted to any kind of efficient wood-burning stoves, right?”

  “They’re original,” she said stiffly.

  “Which means most of the heat you’d generate by burning wood would go straight up the chimney, along with all the pollutants. You’d roast within three feet of the fires and freeze everywhere else, and meanwhile you’ll burn up trees and release their carbon dioxide!”

  “I don’t care about the trees. I care about the way you’re ruining Westfield!”

  “You’ve put your houses right in the line of sight from the manor,” Savannah interceded. “It really changes the view.”

  “The view’s the last thing on my mind,” Boone said, an edge to his voice that surprised Riley.

  “Boone—”

  “I surveyed the ranch and this is the best location for our community. It’s crucial we do this right. The houses go here.”

  Riley burned at the injustice of it. This is the way it would be from now on; Boone would call the shots and control the ranch that should have been hers. She hadn’t even had time to process the hurt and pain of losing it. “You won’t even talk about it?”

  “Is that what you came here to do? Talk? Or are you here to dictate to me?” When she couldn’t find an answer, he chuckled. “Thought so. I only take orders from my superior officers, Riley.”

  “This isn’t a game!”

  “You’re exactly right; this is not a game.” Once again it was the Navy SEAL in him talking, not the boy she’d once known. “You don’t know where I’ve been, Riley. You don’t know why I’m doing this. I swore an oath…”

  They all waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Riley saw the strain in every line of his face, though. Something had happened to Boone while he was away.

  Well, things had happened to her, too.

  Boone sighed. “Look, take any war or insurrection or rebellion or terrorist act and trace it back—all the way back—and you’ll find the same thing. At its heart the fight is over resources. Who has them. Who doesn’t. Right?”

  The others nodded. Riley pinched her lips together. None of them needed a history lesson from Mr. Navy SEAL.

  “Our population is growing, our weather is getting unpredictable. Global warming, climate change, whatever you want to call it. It’s making things worse. What I want to do is show Americans they can live a good life while consuming far fewer resources than they do today.”

  “By shoving them into tiny little houses like animals in their cages?” Riley said. She actually agreed with everything Boone had said so far, but she’d be damned if she’d admit it.

  “By creating functional, private residences grouped in a community setting that maximizes efficiency, minimizes cost and brings a sense of wellbeing to all its inhabitants.”

  “I’m an inhabitant of Westfield and my wellbeing will be shot to hell if you build here.”

  Boone’s expression hardened. “I’d do a lot for you, Riley, but saving the world takes precedence over your sensibilities.”

  Riley sputtered, but couldn’t come up with a response. She whirled around. “Let’s go.” She didn’t wait to see if her friends would follow. She marched off back up the hill, fighting against her skirts as she climbed. She was fighting tears, too. Some part of her had thought she’d been important to Boone after all, since he seemed so set on marrying her. What a joke. All he wanted was his damn funding so he could tear Westfield to pieces and ruin her past.

  “Riley, it will be all right.” Avery panted as she caught up to her.

  “How could it possibly be all right?”

  “I don’t know, but it will.”

  Riley halted and Avery nearly tripped over her. “Look at him down there,” Riley said. “So smug. So… righteous. He’s going to save the world, huh? And to hell with us?”

  “He’s passionate about his cause, that’s all.”

  Riley stared at Boone as he returned to his stakes and twine. Savannah and Nora caught up and gathered around her.

  “Westfield was supposed to be mine!” The emotions she’d managed to hold at bay overnight finally crashed down around her. She blinked furiously to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. “I’ve loved this place my entire life. It isn’t fair.”

  “Why did your uncle sell it so suddenly? Did he tell you?” Nora wanted to know.

  “No,” she said truthfully. “I didn’t know until it was done. Why would he do that?” It was the question that haunted her. She’d had no reason to doubt his word—until now.

  “If he’d promised it to you, he was probably ashamed of himself for changing his mind,” Savannah said.

  “It was a good thing Boone’s the one who ended up with it. Can you imagine if Russ had sold it to a stranger? We wouldn’t have had anywhere to go,” Avery said.

  Her words made Riley feel even more alone. They didn’t know Boone would kick them out unless she married him. She wiped away her tears. He might have ruined everything for her, but she’d be damned if she let him steal the time her friends needed away from the world.

  “Boone should understand he’s changing a place you love,” Nora said to Riley. “He should have more respect.”

  “Maybe you should go talk to him again and tell him how you feel. You might be able to persuade him,” Savannah said hopefully.

  “Maybe.” But she doubted it. Boone had already shown how far he was willing to go to make his plans work. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”

  “Come and eat,” Avery urged her. “Then it’ll be time to paint.”

  “Go on ahead. I need a minute.”

  She watched her friends turn toward the house again. Regaining her composure, Riley realized she had to make a decision. If she accepted Boone’s offer and traded a fake marriage for free lodging at Westfield for her friends, she would have to accept that he was going to change the ranch. If she couldn’t do that, she needed to confess everything to her friends and plan to move on—and know that Boone would still change the ranch after she left.

  Two things kept her from wanting to choose the second path. One was the fear that without Westfield, there’d be no Jane Austen experiment. She wanted the chance to devote time to her painting, but more so she wanted Nora to be safe, Savannah to resume her career as a pianist, and Avery to get the chance to write that screenplay she was so excited about. If they had to go somewhere else and pay rent, they wouldn’t have time for those th
ings. They’d be right back to square one.

  The other reason was far more complicated. It was a mixture of things, really. Nostalgia for the ranch—it would be hard to leave it again. A feeling that if she remained she could mitigate the damage Boone did. Curiosity about his plans. As much as she hated to admit it, she sympathised with his cause and wondered how he’d pull it off. Curiosity about Boone, too. For all she hated the way he’d treated her at the end, she also remembered all the good times they’d had when they were young, and she had to admit a strong chemistry popped and fizzed between them now. She couldn’t help wondering where that might go.

  She watched Boone toil at the building site. If she was being honest, her body responded to him every time she saw him. That kiss he’d pressed into her palm still made her skin tingle.

  As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look up the hill at her and touched his finger to his hat in the same half-mocking, half-acknowledging way he’d always done. Riley crossed her arms and stared back down. After a minute, he shrugged and went back to work, but Riley didn’t move. Should she stay or should she go?

  She couldn’t decide.

  When Boone looked over his shoulder at her a minute later, and again a few minutes after that, she realized her steady gaze was getting to him. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She’d made him nervous.

  Good. The SEAL was too damn cocky.

  She kept her position until Boone nonchalantly set down his twine and stakes and walked away. She wasn’t fooled. When he didn’t return, it confirmed she’d won. Boone had a weakness, after all.

  But as she trudged up the hill toward the manor, she realized what an empty victory it was. Boone still owned Westfield.

  And she didn’t want to leave.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  ONCE MORE BOONE crouched over the fire he’d lit in the rough, stone-lined circle some distance from the bunkhouse. Irritation tensed his muscles as he cooked a quick meal. Since breakfast, he’d done another quick survey of the ranch, settled on a housing site, staked out a number of imaginary houses and photographed the slope and other features of the ranch, then sent the images to Jericho, Clay and Walker. Jericho and Clay both sent back detailed responses about the pros and cons of his choice, along with lists of questions about the ranch they wanted answered. Walker had responded with his usual brevity: “Good.”