by Cora Seton
He watched her go, then turned toward the building site where he worked each day with Curtis—and Clay, when the man wasn’t on his honeymoon. Behind him, he heard Boone say, “Time to get to work. And I expect you to behave like a grown-up. No fighting.”
“Harris is the one who should behave like a grown-up,” Curtis said. “He’s the one in the wrong here.”
“I don’t want to hear any more about it.” Boone was getting angry. That was something. Harris had begun to feel the whole situation was stacked against him. “If you wanted her so bad, you could’ve gotten your ass out of bed this morning and got to the airport to get her yourself. You know you told everybody you didn’t want to marry her last night, so cut the crap and stop playing the victim. If anyone’s the victim here, it’s Samantha. She’s the one who’s going to have to deal with the two of you. Get to work.”
“I’ve got to get this rental truck back,” Harris told him when the other man approached.
“Jericho and I will handle it; I was about to head into town anyway. He’ll give me a ride back,” Boone said.
So much for putting some distance between him and Curtis. It took all Harris’s strength of will to walk toward the building site instead of running after Sam, tossing her in the rental truck and getting the hell out of here. Just this morning, he’d been proud of being part of Base Camp. Now, he was finding its constraints hard to swallow.
He knew if he turned he’d find a camera crew following them, and he could only imagine what the rest of the afternoon would be like.
He heard a sharp bark and glanced over his shoulder. Daisy was trotting next to Curtis. That was one ungrateful dog, he thought, and couldn’t help wonder if Daisy’s disloyalty was a harbinger of things to come. The dog had taken one look at Curtis and decided he was a better master than Harris. Would Sam switch sides, too, when she got to know the man?
Harris stalked on, his mood growing worse and worse. Clay was the one who had designed the tiny homes, and was in charge of building them, but would be long gone on his honeymoon by now, and Harris knew what he had to do. At least Clay and Nora would be having a good day. They hadn’t gone far; just to the Cruz ranch, where they’d stay at the guesthouse run by Autumn and Ethan Cruz. After all she’d been through, Nora had needed something familiar, easy and safe, and the Cruz guesthouse would offer them plenty of privacy—and wonderful food. Autumn was reputed to be a fantastic cook.
Ordinarily Harris didn’t mind his days working on the houses, but while he was good at framing them up, it wasn’t really his calling. He wasn’t entirely sure what his calling was, but where Clay was drawn to think about elevations and angles, and the way people lived in their homes, Harris was drawn to the outdoors, to the wild—and to animals. He felt most at home when he was surrounded by nature. He wasn’t sure how to turn that into a useful skill for the community, but he hadn’t given up hope yet that his inclinations might not lead him to a job that made sense for all of them. Today he longed for nothing more than to grab a rifle and head out into the woods.
Instead, Harris surveyed the work they had done on the third tiny house. Like the others, it was built into the side of the hill, enclosed on the back and the sides by the grassy slope. It would eventually have a green roof that would give it even more protection from the elements. The front walls would be made mostly of glass to let in the sun and warmth. The roof was pitched in such a way to let in any sun that a winter’s day might offer, but block the too harsh rays of the summer afternoon. Harris admired the way that Clay had designed the homes, both for the way they used minimal energy, and for the way they suited people, even though their interior space was small.
The community was set up in such a way that most of the cooking was done for the group in the bunkhouse kitchen, rather than in their individual houses. The bunkhouse also offered space for large projects and group get-togethers. Homes were reserved for times when people needed a little space, or privacy. Thus, none of them needed to be too large.
When they began this house, it was with the intention it would soon be Curtis’s. Now Harris found himself thinking of it as his. That was jumping the gun, though. Who knew how things would turn out? Still, Harris imagined maneuvering around the small space with Samantha. He imagined preparing a breakfast with her on a morning they wished to be alone. Relaxing in the afternoon on the small couch it would contain. Going to bed together in the loft bed at night. He touched a 2x4 that was framing in the front wall. Could this be his home?
“Don’t even think about it.” Curtis walked up behind him, and Daisy circled both of them. “That’s my house, just like that’s my wife back there. None of this is going to belong to you. In fact, when Samantha chooses me, I think you should leave the community. None of us needs a sneak like you.”
“We’ve got thirty days ahead of us like this,” Harris said. “If we’re fighting all the time, nothing’s going to get done, and we’ve got a house to build. In fact, we’ve got eight houses to build. You can sit there jawing all you want, but I’m ready to work. Ready to build this community, because it’s where I intend to stay.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Harris ignored him, grateful the two of them tended to do different jobs. He worked on the framing, Curtis worked on the finish work. So while Harris got to the work at hand, Curtis gathered up some supplies and headed off toward one of the barns, where he would work on interior elements that would go into the house later.
Kai Green, passing by, stopped to ask Harris, “How are the two of you going to make it through the next thirty days without coming to blows?”
“Who says we are?”
Here she was in Base Camp, Samantha thought, as she walked with the rest of the women toward the cluster of tents near one side of the bunkhouse. There was Riley, Boone’s wife. And Savannah, who had been the one to greet her first. According to Sam’s sister, sooner or later she would marry Jericho, a blond Navy SEAL who Samantha thought should’ve been an actor, not a warrior. Nora Ridgeway—Nora Pickett now—was gone on her honeymoon, of course. Avery Lightfoot rounded out the original group of women who had come to Base Camp in order to get away from their modern lives. She had auburn hair and a lively expression, and Samantha had liked her the best when she had been watching the show.
Win Lisle had arrived in Base Camp a little later than the other women. She had attended the first Regency wedding that the women had thrown at their bed-and-breakfast, and had decided that she didn’t want to leave. On the show, she was often seen flirting with Angus, a burly man with a Scottish accent. Samantha wasn’t sure why they hadn’t already married, except she supposed Angus hadn’t drawn the short straw, so he wasn’t allowed to yet. There wasn’t any mystery about them, though. They were definitely an item. They were just biding their time.
“Here’s where the women sleep, Samantha,” Riley said. “And here comes Jericho with a tent. We’ll help you set it up.”
“Thanks.”
Jericho placed the tent roll on the ground, and added to it a blowup mattress. “Do you want some help?” he asked, but he directed the question at Savannah, rather than Sam.
“That won’t be necessary,” Savannah said shortly.
Samantha wondered about the currents that were running through this conversation. She knew from watching the show that Jericho and Savannah had clicked at first, but then something had seemed to come between them. Maybe there had been a misunderstanding, or maybe they had grown to learn they weren’t as compatible as they first thought.
Samantha didn’t want to think about that possibility.
“We’ll take it from here,” Riley said. “Then we’ll need to find Samantha a dress. I had meant to set up a fitting for her, but in all the last minute fuss over Clay and Nora’s wedding, I completely forgot about it. Who has the phone today? We should call over to Two Willows, and see if Alice has anything suitable for Samantha, at least to get her started.”
When Jericho had gone again—reluctan
tly, Samantha thought—Avery leaned close and murmured, “Did you really marry Harris?”
Samantha nodded. “I really did. And I meant it, too.” She was about to say she didn’t appreciate having to play act for the next thirty days, when she glanced up and realized the cameras had followed them and they were being filmed even now. She supposed this was what it was going to be like for the next year. Always on film. Always having to watch what she said.
She began to have more of an appreciation for what these women had gone through already. But when she caught sight of Avery’s pursed lips, she felt a surge of worry. What did the women think about her?
“I didn’t think Curtis had any interest in marrying me,” she explained in an undertone. “From what I understood, Harris had stepped in to fill his boots.”
“I think that’s because he liked what he saw,” Avery murmured back. “Like Renata said, he saw his chance and he took it.”
“Do you blame me for what I did?”
“No, it’s just…” She fumbled to a stop and glanced at the cameras and the other women. Riley and Win were debating where to put Sam’s tent, and the cameras seemed focused on them for now. “The thing is you originally signed on to the show to marry Clay, right?”
“That’s right,” Sam said slowly.
“Nora liked Clay right from the beginning, you know,” Avery explained. “But she was so torn about leaving her students in the lurch, and she’d really been affected by that man who stalked her—even before he tried to kill her. Here she was, trying to heal—and you were ready to come and marry the man she loved. I mean, I don’t blame you for being attracted to Clay—”
Sam knew she had to put an end to this fast. “I wasn’t particularly attracted to him,” she rushed to say. “But I understand why what I did seems callous to you. I guess—I didn’t even think about Nora when I answered the ad,” she admitted shamefacedly. “I thought about Base Camp—about how much I wanted to be a part of it. Doing something meaningful with my life—gaining a husband, a family—and friends,” she added, although she saw that was in jeopardy now. “That’s what I was after.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Avery said. “I think all of us were hoping that coming here would change our lives for the better.”
Sam was grateful she seemed to understand.
“But Nora might not see it that way. She might see you as a threat.”
“I’m not a threat. Not at all. Harris is the only man I’m interested in,” Sam told her. “I wish I could be with him right now.”
“You really fell for him that fast?”
“I think I’m as surprised as anyone,” Sam said. “I mean, I thought I would have to work at relating to the man I married here. I thought it would be hard. Instead, I saw him at the airport waiting for me, and I just… I…” She didn’t know how to explain it. “God, he’s so… amazing.”
Avery grinned. “You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?”
Sam nodded. “Will you help me? With Nora? I don’t want her to feel weird around me.”
“I’ll try—but, you get it, right? Why it’s a little uncomfortable? I mean, you flipped from Clay to Curtis to Harris really fast. You don’t know Walker yet, for example—the man I’d like to marry. You don’t know any of the other single men. What if you change your mind again?”
“I won’t,” Samantha insisted. She’d never been accused of being fickle before. Just the opposite. If she hadn’t cared so much what the women thought of her, she’d have been hurt at the implication. As it was, she was terrified. These were supposed to be her new friends. If Avery didn’t trust her, none of them would, and she’d be alone here.
She couldn’t blame them if they thought she was a flake, given the situation. To an outsider, it must look like she’d bounced from man to man as if marriage meant nothing more than a walk in the park.
It meant far more than that to her, though. How long would it take to prove that to everyone that was the case?
A month?
More?
What if she never belonged here at Base Camp?
When tears stung her eyes, Samantha decided she’d had enough. “I’m going to set up my tent, and then I’ll come up to the manor,” she told Avery.
She bent down, gingerly picked up the bag that held the tent, fumbled with the drawstring and worked to pull the tent free. As she spread it out, tears blurred her vision, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to make out how to set it up by herself. But she wasn’t going to ask for help, either. Not if all the women felt like Avery did.
Win said brightly, “I’ll help Samantha. The rest of you head up to the manor, and call Alice about those clothes for Sam. We’ll come up as soon as we’re done with the tent.”
“Sam—”
Samantha looked up when Avery said her name.
“I didn’t…” She looked at the cameras and shrugged. “I just… Well, I’ll see you later.”
She left with the other women and Sam wondered if she’d already lost the chance to be friends with them. Win got to work helping Samantha set up the tent with little talk between them. When it was done, they fetched Samantha’s bags together and put them inside.
“I’ll blow up the air mattress later,” Sam said. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
“I don’t do too much up at the manor,” Win said. “I send most of my time in Base Camp, working in the gardens.” She cocked her head. “Is everything all right?”
“It’s just something Avery said. That Nora might not trust me right away since I signed up originally to marry Clay.”
Win nodded. “Give the others some time to get used to you. They nearly lost their best friend recently. Even after Clay saved Nora, she was really…she was slipping away. It was like she couldn’t come back from wherever that man had taken her. We were all terrified she might…well…give up—if not worse. Anyway, don’t take it personally. Those three will do whatever it takes to make sure Nora doesn’t get upset again. It might take time before they trust you all the way.”
“What about you? Do you trust me?”
“Let’s just say I know what it’s like to find that the man you’re engaged to isn’t the man for you,” Win said with a rueful grin. “They don’t entirely trust me, either. I was engaged—and a real bitch—when I first came to Westfield. This place turned me around.”
“On TV, Base Camp looks magical.”
“Wait until you’ve spend a few weeks living in a tent. It’s not quite so magical then.” Win made a face.
“I’ve pretty much spent my entire life in a sleeper bus,” Samantha told her. “I don’t think it will be hard for me to adapt. Unless I get kicked off the island,” she added, with a glance at the figures of the other women climbing the hill to the manor.
“Give them time,” Win said again. “They have to get to know you. And once Nora realizes you aren’t after Clay, and Avery realizes that you don’t want Walker, everything will be okay. I promise.”
“As long as I can get through the next forty days.”
Win looked at her curiously. “Harris really has you hooked, huh?”
Samantha nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Up at the manor fifteen minutes later, they found the others gathered in the kitchen, a room Sam recognized from the show. It was large with a high ceiling, and a long table in the middle of it, where the women had gathered. Savannah looked up when they walked in, and said, “Alice says to come over at three. She has several dresses you can try on, and then she’ll do the alterations. I called Maude and James, as well, and James is coming at two-thirty in their barouche to pick us up.”
Despite everything that had happened in the past hour, Samantha smiled. How many times had she seen the women riding with Maude or James in the barouche, pulled by a pair of horses? How many times had she seen similar scenes in Jane Austen movies? Now she would get her chance to experience it for herself.
Chapter Six
‡
He’d known there would be trouble when they got back to Base Camp, but he’d hoped against hope things wouldn’t be so awkward. In truth, Curtis’s reaction didn’t surprise him. As much as he’d said he wanted to pick his own bride, he couldn’t have found a better candidate than Samantha. Maybe he could have found his own match online, or in town, but if that was the case, wouldn’t he have done so already? Letting Boone pick a woman for you was a heck of a crapshoot to take on the rest of your life. So when Sam appeared, dazzling in that beautiful white dress of hers, with an open, sweet expression and a warmth of character that was all too clear, Curtis must have done the math in his head and realized he’d be hard pressed to find a better wife.
Working on the house was tolerable while Curtis had been in the barn, but now he was back, things weren’t going so well, and a camera crew was making sure to document every moment of it.
Curtis was taking measurements for cabinets for the interior of the kitchen space. For the last ten minutes he’d kept up a constant string of curses Harris knew would eventually blow up into something more.
He was right.
“You call these walls square?” Curtis shouted suddenly. “Do you even know how to measure?”
Harris ignored him. The man was trying to get a rise out of him, and he wasn’t going to cooperate.
“I’m talking to you,” Curtis called belligerently. “I’m telling you your measurements are off. You better get your ass in here and fix this.”
Harris refused to let him get under his skin. He made his way into the shell of the tiny house, joined Curtis in the kitchen and pulled out a measuring tape. With each span he measured, he called off the reading. “Sixteen inches. Sixteen inches. Sixteen inches. He let the measuring tape slide back into its container and pocketed it. “It’s square.”