by Cora Seton
Put on the spot, Sam froze. “Um…” What did she like to do? She wasn’t sure. She’d had far too many responsibilities back on the bus to have hobbies.
“Are you an artist?” Avery asked curiously.
“Or is music your thing?” Savannah suggested.
“No, music is definitely not my thing,” Sam said with a laugh. “I don’t really have a thing.”
The others exchanged a look. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out in time,” Avery said. “We try to spend most of our afternoons on personal projects.”
Sam knew this from the show. Nora was a writer, and had begun to work on a school curriculum; Riley was a painter, Savannah a gifted pianist and Avery was writing a screenplay. Sam didn’t really do anything like that.
Which was pathetic, she realized.
“I’ll…think about it,” she told them.
When the meeting broke up, the women dispersed, including Riley, who said she needed to head back down to Base Camp. “Savannah will take you to Alice’s,” she told Sam.
As Sam helped carry the teacups to the sink for washing, Savannah commented, “We didn’t even think about what to do with extra help for the B&B. I hope it isn’t boring for you when our guests are here.”
“I’m the newbie here. I’ll take whatever leftover jobs you have, if Nora’s all right with that, and work my way up from there.”
“You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that,” Savannah said.
“I’m worried,” Sam corrected her. “Worried my being here is going to upset Nora, and I know she’s been through so much already. I wish I’d thought about that before I’d come.”
“It might take time,” Savannah said, “but I’m sure she’ll come around. Maybe don’t fawn all over Clay for now,” she added with a grin.
“I’ll put off any fawning for the time being,” Sam assured her. “So, now what?”
Savannah smiled. “Now we wait for the barouche. James will be here soon. We’ll go to Alice’s house and find a dress for you that fits.”
“That sounds great.”
Ten minutes later, Sam bounced on the balls of her feet like a little girl when the carriage came rolling down the driveway and pulled up in front of the house. Savannah, standing beside her, was still grinning.
“I’d forgotten how exciting this was at first,” she said. “It’s fun to relive it through you.”
Samantha waited until the driver came to a stop and climbed down from the carriage. “It’s James, isn’t it? I recognize you from watching the show.”
“At your service.” James lifted her hand and kissed it gallantly. In his sixties, dressed in impeccable Regency clothes, he was just as endearing in person as he’d been on the episodes Sam had watched.
“Oh, that’s so strange,” Savannah said. “I never even thought about the fact you’ve watched us on TV.”
“It’s strange from my end, too,” Samantha confessed. “I feel as if I know you far better than I should, but you don’t know me at all. It’s nice to meet you in person,” she said to James.
“I never thought I’d be a TV star,” James said. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Let me help you up.”
Samantha climbed up into the barouche, and Savannah took a seat next to her. Several camera crew members climbed in and sat across from them, ruining the moment just a little. Samantha decided not to pay any attention to them. That was both easier and harder than she’d expected. Easier, because everything was so exciting. Harder, because they tended to stay closer than she’d expected. They were constantly shifting around, adjusting their cameras and the boom microphone.
James climbed up to the driver’s seat and clucked to the horses. As they lurched to a start, Sam clung to the side of the carriage to keep in her seat. This was better than she’d even dreamed. It was as if she had travelled back in time to a world far different than her own. “It’s wonderful,” she said to Savannah.
All too soon, they’d made the journey to Two Willows and pulled up in front of the large, old, white farmhouse where Alice Reed and her sisters lived. Alice was standing on the porch to greet them, and she led them first inside for a cup of tea in the kitchen, and then out the back door to a carriage house several hundred feet away, where her studio was.
“Come on in. Watch your step on the stairs.” Alice led the way into an old-fashioned garage, through a door to an enclosed stairwell and up to the second floor, where they entered a large open space like a loft.
Samantha gasped as she stepped inside. Large arched windows let light stream into the open room. Several large work tables were positioned in the center, surrounded by racks and racks of clothing and costumes Alice must have made. At one end of the room, in a corner, was a makeshift change room. At the other end was a studio kitchen. Alice had everything she could possibly need.
“If you go to the change room,” Alice said, “you’ll find several dresses to try on. Put on the one you like best, and come on out to show me. We’ll get it fitted to you in a jiffy.”
As Sam made her way across the room, she heard Alice and Savannah talking together in low voices behind her. She paused before entering the small cubicle, one hand poised to draw the curtain for privacy, and looked back. Alice was examining the gown that Savannah wore. “It’s the bodice,” Savannah said, loudly enough for Sam to hear. “It’s too tight.”
“Again?” Alice laughed. “That was fast.”
“It’s not funny,” Savannah said.
Alice sobered. “You’re right, it isn’t. I’m sorry. Does Jericho—” Alice looked up, spotted Sam, turned her back and continued in a lower voice. Sam could no longer hear the discussion, and as she entered the change room and drew the curtain over the door, she wondered about what she had heard. She remembered that in one of the episodes she’d watched, Savannah had said that she had a doctor’s appointment. And now her dress needed alteration because it was too tight. There was a logical explanation, but nothing had been said on any of the episodes about Savannah being pregnant.
Sam figured she’d better stay out of it. The last thing Savannah would want was for a newcomer to poke her nose into her business. She would wait until Savannah brought up the topic herself. Meanwhile she would keep her mouth shut.
Inside the change room, she pulled off her apron and work dress, switched into the new chemise and petticoat Alice had laid out for her and surveyed the stays with interest. Putting her arms through the armholes, she tried to look over her shoulder and figure out how to lace them up behind her.
“Samantha? Can I help you with those stays?” Alice said from outside the change room.
“Yes, I have no idea how I would do this myself.” Samantha opened the curtain again. She turned her back, and Alice began to lace the ties up.
“There’s really no way you can,” Alice said. She made quick work of them, then tugged until the stays cinched her waist a little. “Because only the bodice fits tightly in a Regency gown, and the skirts hang straight, we don’t have to pull these as tight as we would with a Civil War–era gown.”
“Thank God,” Samantha said. “I like breathing.” She noticed the crew had trained their cameras on her, and sucked in her stomach.
“Most of us do.”
When Sam’s stays were done, Alice helped her on with a deep blue Regency gown made from a fine material that felt light and airy over her underthings. Alice led her out of the change room and over to a three-way mirror. “That looks fantastic on you.”
Samantha turned one way and then the other in order to get a better look. Alice was right; the color suited her, and she loved the gown.
“I’ve got some shoes for you, and a reticule, an apron and a jacket.” She showed all of them to Samantha and Sam was amazed that everything fit so well.
“It’s as if you knew I was coming,” she told Alice.
Alice smiled. “Well, I did. Riley called me earlier.”
She was teasing, and Samantha said, “Did she tell you my shoe size, too?”
“I made an educated guess.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Savannah said, coming over. “Alice has a sixth sense about these things. About a lot of things.”
The other two women exchanged a glance, and again Sam wondered what Savannah’s secret was. There was no way to see if she was in the early stages of pregnancy while she was wearing a Regency gown.
“Let me take a couple of measurements,” Alice said. “Your dress fits well, but it’s not perfect, so I’ll make a couple of quick adjustments. Meanwhile, try on those other gowns, and I’ll bring you a couple of work gowns, as well.”
Samantha did as she was told, and an hour later she left with two complete outfits, one for work, which Alice had packed in tissue paper, and one for leisure, which she was currently wearing. Alice assured her she would deliver the rest of the clothes the following day, and she whispered something in Savannah’s ear that sounded like a promise to deliver another gown for her, too.
Samantha enjoyed the carriage ride home even more than the earlier one, decked out in an outfit that was tailor-made for her. They travelled through beautiful countryside, past ranch after ranch, until they pulled into Westfield again. When the barouche travelled up the winding driveway, and the manor came into sight, Samantha’s heart swelled. Despite her rocky beginning here, it felt like coming home. She couldn’t wait for the guests to arrive, and to actually sleep in the manor. If Nora was okay with that.
When they pulled to a stop, the camera crew got out first and established the shot as Samantha and Savannah exited the barouche. James helped them down, but then said he was needed back at his own house and couldn’t come in for tea. As he drove away, it occurred to Sam she didn’t know what came next.
Before she could ask Savannah, the other woman said, “We’ll head down to dinner in half an hour. What would you like to do until then?”
“Would you give me a full tour of the manor?”
“Of course.”
Savannah led the way, and they made a circuit of the first floor. To the left of the front door was a parlor, with a couch and easy chairs, a grand piano and a desk. “This is where we spend our time when we’re working on her own creative pursuits,” Savannah said.
“I know.” Sam bit her lip, realizing she didn’t really need a tour of the manor house; she’d seen it all on TV. The parlor was already familiar, as was the kitchen, and to a lesser extent the great room that formed the other side of the house. Upstairs it was the same. Samantha showed her the guest rooms on the second floor, each one more beautiful than the last. On the third floor were the rooms the women had held back for themselves. Only then, Samantha realized she’d made another assumption that wasn’t true.
“I guess there really isn’t a place for me to stay when the guests are here,” she said slowly, trying to hide her disappointment. “I thought we’d all stay in the house, but that doesn’t make sense. I’d be taking a room that’s meant for guests.”
It was obvious Savannah hadn’t thought about that either. “Sometimes there will be fewer guests than there are rooms. But pretty soon there’ll be other women at the ranch…” She trailed off.
“Right. We’d end up filling up the whole house.” So much for having a beautiful room to herself.
“As soon as you marry Harris or Curtis, you’ll have your own tiny house,” Savannah said by way of encouragement.
Samantha knew she was only trying to help, but she didn’t feel cheered up. She’d always had to share the bus or a hotel room, and even the rooms they’d had in rental houses and apartments. She’d never had a space of her own, and now it looked like she never would. “I need to freshen up,” she told Savannah. “We still have a few minutes before we have to go to dinner, right?”
Savannah nodded. “That’s right. I bet you could use some privacy before you meet everyone again. Why don’t you use my room, and you can join us downstairs when it’s time to leave.”
“Thanks.” Samantha held it together until Savannah had gone, and the camera crew that had trailed them went with her, and then she sank down on Savannah’s bed in defeat. What had she done? She’d gone straight from a bus to a stupid tent. She wasn’t really wanted here. Renata had erased her wedding as if it had never happened.
This was all a huge mistake.
Samantha allowed herself five minutes of self-pity, and then she wiped her eyes and stood up again. Base Camp wasn’t the same as the tour bus; it was whatever she made it. She had come here to make a difference, not to live in a beautiful room. She would get to enjoy the manor whenever there were guests here, and whenever it was time for the women to pursue their creative pursuits. She didn’t have to sleep in a room in order to enjoy it. Besides, she did have a space of her own—for now.
Her tent.
She would make the best of that, too. It was more than she’d ever had before, she told herself ruefully.
The most important thing was she had Harris. And no matter what Renata had said, she was sure the connection they’d shared this morning was real. She had to trust any hardship she endured in the next month would all be worth it when she married him again.
Ten minutes later, she hoped she’d erased all traces of her tears. She held her head high and descended the stairs lifting the skirts of her gown. As the women walked the quarter mile down the dirt track that led to the encampment, Samantha hung back, but she listened intently to the others’ conversations. Riley was quiet, and when Avery asked if she was feeling well, she nodded.
“Too well,” she said acerbically. “I’m definitely not pregnant.”
“Next month,” Avery assured her, putting a hand on her back.
Riley just nodded.
Savannah didn’t say anything, but Sam noticed her briefly rest her hand on her belly.
Sam bit her lip. If Savannah was pregnant, how would Riley react? And why hadn’t Savannah told Jericho? Or had she, but Jericho didn’t want to marry her? That didn’t make sense; Jericho was always mooning around after Savannah.
It was hard to keep her questions to herself, but Samantha managed it. The last thing she wanted to do was start a controversy between the other women. Besides, the cameras were following them like always. She would have to be on her toes while she was here.
When they arrived in Base Camp, Win was there to greet them. “It’s taco night tonight. My favorite. One thing I love about Base Camp is I do enough physical work here I can eat all I want and not gain weight.”
“Wish I could say that,” Savannah said, and then blushed. “I mean, I’m not doing as much physical work as you are.”
“That’s because you’re supposed to be a concert pianist,” Win said. “I’m just a lowly gardener.”
“A lowly gardener who used to be a highly paid executive,” Savannah reminded her. “There’s nothing lowly about you. Or if there is, it’s because you’ve chosen it.”
“I’ve chosen a better life.”
“Why are you so comfortable giving up everything you used to have?” Savannah asked her. “I mean, the rest of us had things we wanted to leave behind, but you were sitting pretty. How did you walk away from it all so easily?”
Sam wondered if she was the only one surprised by the conversation. Win had been a friend of Savannah’s cousin Andrea, and had come to Westfield to attend Andrea’s wedding here. As far as she knew from the episodes she’d watched, Savannah and Win had grown to like each other over the past few months. Why was Savannah confronting her now?
“I’m not the only one here with rich parents,” Win reminded her tartly.
“I was supporting myself before I came here,” Savannah retorted. “And I hated my job.”
“Maybe I hated my job, too.”
“Andrea told me your parents were subsidizing that rock-star lifestyle of yours.”
“Savannah,” Riley warned her.
“I’m not throwing stones,” Savannah said. “I’m genuinely curious. Win has gone from living in a palace to living in a te
nt—and she’s thriving. I want to know why.”
“It wasn’t a palace,” Win told her. “I’m here because I believe in Base Camp. Money isn’t everything.”
“Here, here,” Riley cheered.
Sam noticed Win’s answer didn’t reveal anything about her past. The show had highlighted her wealthy family during one episode, but had never explained much about the fiancé she’d left behind. Why had a woman who could live in a palace chosen to come here and live in a tent? Unfortunately, they’d already reached camp. The women split up. Harris spotted her and came to meet her. Samantha forgot everything else.
When he drew near, Harris reached for her, but quickly pulled back his hand. “How was your day? Are you settling in?”
She lifted the skirts of her new gown a little to show him. “Yes, I am. Do you like my dress?”
“It’s almost as beautiful as your wedding gown.”
“Cut, cut!” Renata, nearby, stepped forward through the crowd. “Remember, as far as our viewers are concerned, you have not seen her wedding gown. You just met her, and this is the first time you’re going to get to ask her out. Focus. Do it again.”
She made a rolling motion with her hand. Harris rolled his eyes and Sam could tell he was biting back a cutting retort. He got himself under control and turned back to Samantha. “Uh, yes, I do like that dress.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and once more Samantha took in those broad shoulders she’d grasped earlier, his handsome features and the mouth she couldn’t resist when he smiled. She wished he was smiling now. She searched for what to say next. “Alice is bringing several more for me tomorrow.”
Harris nodded. “I met a farrier today.”
Samantha wasn’t sure what that was, so she just nodded. God, was it always going to be this stilted in front of the cameras?
“A farrier puts horseshoes on horses,” Harris explained. “I’m going to check out his forge sometime.” He looked away. Was he embarrassed? Why? Did he think she’d find that boring?