A SEAL's Pledge (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 3)

by Cora Seton

  Samantha thought it would take far more than a new hairstyle to improve the day, but when they’d all reached Riley’s bedroom, she allowed Riley to unpin her hair, comb it out and begin to style it. Aware of the cameras capturing this moment, she fiddled with her dress.

  Avery glanced out the window. “Where do you think Curtis will take you?”

  “I have no idea,” Samantha said. “What do you know about him?”

  “He’s nice. Usually. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him angry before today,” Avery said.

  “His carpentry is amazing,” Savannah added. “You should see the interior of Riley’s house—and Nora’s.”

  “He does amazing things with his hands,” Avery said impishly. “He might be a wonderful lover.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes. “I thought you were sweet on Walker.”

  Avery blushed. “I am.”

  “I don’t know much about Curtis’s past,” Riley mused. “He was a Navy SEAL, of course. I’m not sure what made him come here.”

  “An overwhelming urge to save the world,” Savannah said with a sigh. “Just like all the other men.”

  Avery laughed. “That’s right; it’s like even though they left the military, they can’t stop wanting to make the world a better place. They’re kind of cocky that way.”

  “That’s what I admire about all of them,” Samantha said. “When I first watched the show, I thought it was going to be ridiculous. But then I saw how seriously the men were taking it. They really believe in what they’re doing. I think it’s admirable.”

  The others exchanged a glance. “I think it’s admirable, too,” Riley said. “I just wish their solutions had a few less composting toilets and solar showers, and a few more hot tubs and shopping trips.” She chuckled. “I didn’t know what a heathen I was about these things until I came here.”

  “There are advantages to their system though,” Savannah said. “I love the evenings here. I love it that we all eat together, and spend time together outside, especially when we linger until the sun goes down and the stars come out. I haven’t spent so much time outside since I was a kid. It’s really wonderful. I like how we do all the chores together. I even like helping Jericho with the solar stuff. I thought I’d hate that, but it’s pretty interesting.”

  “I think because it’s so important to all of us that our community succeeds, we have this camaraderie.” Riley finished styling Samantha’s hair and turned her to face the mirror to see the effect. She had pulled it up into a high loose bun, and left tendrils to soften the line of her face. Samantha liked it.

  “I agree,” Savannah said.

  If that was true, Sam wondered why Savannah was keeping secrets. But it wasn’t her place to judge.

  Avery nodded to the clock on the bureau. “We better go downstairs. Curtis should be here soon.”

  Samantha suddenly realized that if they went into town, she’d still be dressed like a Regency character. She lifted her skirts. “I can’t go on a date like this,” she said. “Everyone’s going to stare at me if he takes me to Chance Creek.”

  “They’ll be staring at the cameras,” Avery told her. “Everybody in town has seen us now. They’re used to the way we dress. But they’re still fascinated by the filming process.”

  “For God’s sake,” one of the crew interrupted loudly. “Stop talking about us. You know we can’t use that footage.”

  “Fascinated, and annoyed,” Savannah went on, ignoring him. “You should see us when we go shopping. We troop around the grocery store followed by our entourage, and we take up a whole aisle at a time. People get a little testy sometimes.”

  “You want your funding, you have to deal with us,” the cameraman said. “Now quit it. Back to getting ready for Sam’s date.”

  Sam didn’t like her life being a plot point, but it was what she’d signed up for. “Let’s head down,” she told the others.

  She had just reached the bottom of the stairs when a knock on the door announced Curtis’s arrival. The crew made sure to film her answering the door. When she opened it, Curtis stood on the stoop, and his own entourage of cameras stood behind him in the rain. Samantha bit back a grin.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked him.

  “How about we hit the road instead,” Curtis said. “Let’s go into town and have a drink.”

  “Okay.”

  Avery rushed up carrying the little fitted jacket Alice had given her earlier. “You’d better wear your spenser,” she said. “It’s not waterproof, but it’ll help keep the rain off you. And don’t forget your bonnet.”

  “I’ve got an umbrella,” Curtis said.

  Samantha allowed Avery to help her on with the garments, moving as quickly as possible so that the men outside wouldn’t get soaked through. When she was ready, the others said good-bye, and shut the door behind her, as Samantha and Curtis dashed to the truck under the protection of Curtis’s umbrella. Several cameramen stuck close to them and climbed into the backseat.

  She was damp, but luckily the evening was warm, so it wasn’t too unpleasant. The sunlight had faded early under the onslaught of the storm, and Samantha was glad Curtis was doing the driving. She had spent far too many nights driving hour after hour struggling to keep the tour bus on the road under difficult conditions. She’d had enough of that, and hoped never to do it again. Thinking about the tour bus made her think of her family, though, and Samantha drooped a little. Were they worried about her? Were they angry that she’d left them in the lurch? Both her parents were just as capable of driving the tour bus as she was, so it wasn’t like she’d left them stranded, but they’d still be upset. Everyone in the band depended on her to make so many of the little decisions, and the big ones, too. If it wasn’t for the controversy between Curtis and Harris, she was sure that right now she would be filled with a vast sense of relief. She’d left her phone with her things in her tent, wanting to be as much like the other women as possible—and wanting to get away from her family’s angry messages.

  “Where’s Daisy?”

  “Back at the bunkhouse with Boone. She’s sure taken a shine to me.”

  “Um-hmm.” Sam wasn’t going to say more than that. His implication had been easy to read: Daisy had picked Curtis. So should she.

  The drive to town was quiet, while Curtis gave the road his full attention. Samantha appreciated he was giving the weather its due. So many men liked to pretend that they could handle anything, as if it was somehow less masculine to take care in a difficult situation.

  When they pulled into the parking lot of the Dancing Boot, she could feel the beat of a bass drum even inside the truck.

  “I think they’ve got live music tonight,” Curtis said. “I hope you like dancing.”

  Samantha loved dancing. That was the best thing about traveling with a band, one of the few perks of a situation that hadn’t suited her in a long time. She sometimes grew tired of dancing to the same songs that Deader Than Ever played, but in between gigs the band often went out to hear new music. In any given week, she got to see several live shows and dance her heart out. It allowed her to blow off steam, get some exercise and socialize with people outside the band, all at once. Kind of like a yoga class—with alcohol and a beat.

  Curtis got out of the truck and came around to open her door. They dashed through the rain again and hurried inside the club where the music was much louder, and the dance floor was full.

  Samantha hadn’t listened much to country music. Usually her family and the rest of the band opted for funk, bluegrass or folk. Besides, Harris wasn’t here with her—and their parting had been anything but amicable. She wished she could go back and soothe his fears that Curtis might change her mind.

  The band was quite good, though, and despite her worries, she wondered if an hour on the dance floor would ease the tension that pulled her neck and shoulder muscles tight. She followed Curtis to the bar, feeling guilty. It would be far too disloyal to Harris to do that.

  But if Har
ris hadn’t kicked up such a fuss, she could have had a simple evening with Curtis, then told him to back off. They would have finished out the month acting their parts, but there wouldn’t have been any more hassle between them.

  Harris was the one who’d decided it all had to be difficult. This was her wedding night, and instead of spending it with the man she’d married, she was at a bar with a stranger.

  Which meant it was his fault she was here about to dance with Curtis.

  Curtis seemed to like the music as much as she did. He quickly got them each a beer at the bar, gave her just enough time to take a couple of swigs, set them aside on a table out of the way and led her to the dance floor.

  Dancing in a Regency gown was a little tricky at first, but only because she was self-conscious about it. As soon as she decided that she didn’t care—and no one else did, either—Samantha gave herself up to the beat. Curtis turned out to be a terrific dancer. This day had been bizarre from start to finish, and Sam decided it might as well end as strangely as it had begun.

  The songs were fast-paced, and soon she had worked up a sweat. She was glad Curtis didn’t try to hold hands and dance with her. She didn’t want that from him and he seemed to understand her need to have her own space. Instead he allowed her to move exactly like she wanted to, and followed along with her. She decided to let go of her worries for the time being and tried to relax.

  They spent an hour like that, dancing, going back to the table for a drink now and then, enjoying the music and the night. Unfortunately, when a particularly good song ended, the lead singer leaned into the microphone and said, “Let’s slow this down, shall we? This song is called Loving You.”

  The band launched into a ballad and before Samantha had time to move away, Curtis placed one hand lightly at her waist and twined the fingers of his other hand through hers. She had the feeling if she tried to pull back, he’d hold on tight and she’d end up making a scene. Sam gave in, but as they began to sway to the music, the evening was spoiled for her. Now she was aware of Curtis as a man, not an acquaintance who was sharing a fun night out. Curtis was a couple of inches taller than Harris. He was heavier set, too. But whereas when she got close to Harris, she tingled all over with anticipation, with Curtis it was different. She didn’t feel that tug way down deep inside. She didn’t want to, either. All she felt was annoyed.

  Still, when Curtis gently pulled her a little closer, she didn’t fight him. Instead, she rested her head against his chest and allowed him to put his arms around her. She would give him his chance so he couldn’t say she hadn’t, even though she already knew the outcome. At the end of the night, she would have to let Curtis down. She hoped that would be the end of it.

  Still, she was aware she was being filmed, which made an uncomfortable situation downright awkward. Had she looked foolish dancing in her Regency gown?

  What did she look like now?

  “I came to Base Camp because I needed something in my life to believe in,” Curtis said softly into her ear. “When I left the Navy, I thought I wanted to be a free man. Turned out I was wrong. Turned out I needed something to guide my days. It’s always like this. Before I make a commitment to something, it scares the crap out of me to think that I won’t be able to change my mind later on. You should’ve seen me before I enlisted. Agonized over it for months. Then the minute I signed the paperwork, I knew it was going to be the best thing I ever did, and I never looked back. Same thing when I applied to come and live at Base Camp. Went back and forth, back and forth. Nearly drove my friends nuts. But the day I arrived, I knew this was the place for me. It’s like that with marriage, too. Fucking terrifies me.” He chuckled grimly. “I was serious about a woman once. Took me ages to get up the nerve to propose—” He cut off.

  “What happened?” Sam looked up.

  “Didn’t work out in the end.”

  A pang of sympathy squeezed her heart. So Curtis was capable of love—and of being hurt. And she was about to hurt him again.

  “You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now,” he continued. “Yesterday, when I found out that the pressure was off, and I didn’t need to get married, I was so relieved I got stinking drunk. Hit on everybody I could see. But today, when you walked into camp, I got that same feeling I always get. I’m supposed to marry you, Samantha. We’re supposed to spend our lives together. I know it’s not fair of me to say so, since you already married Harris. I know I’m an asshole. But what I feel is real, and if we don’t end up together, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m supposed to be here in Base Camp. You’re supposed to be my wife. That’s just the way it is.”

  He tightened his arms around her as if he didn’t mean to let go, and Samantha didn’t know what to do. Those were heady words he’d said to her, and they spoke to her of the kind of belonging and finality she’d always hoped for. She had a feeling if her marriage to Harris actually was annulled, and she wed Curtis today, he would stick with her for the long haul. They might not have the instant, passionate connection she had with Harris, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t build a life together, or that she couldn’t fall in love with him someday.

  But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. Maybe they would find contentment together, and maybe love would grow between them, but Curtis deserved to find a woman who felt about him the way she felt about Harris. That glow of instant recognition—and the hunger he inspired in her—were something really special. If she gave that up, she would always long for it. Curtis needed to find that with someone else.

  She tried to extricate herself from his embrace, but Curtis wasn’t willing to let her go. “Let’s just dance,” he said. “I’m not asking you for anything more tonight.”

  Maybe she owed him that much. It was already late, and soon enough the band would finish playing and they would go home. She’d tell Curtis she had made up her mind. Tomorrow at breakfast she’d let Harris know she’d done so. She was sure he would’ve calmed down overnight and regretted how he’d behaved.

  “He’s a hell of a man,” Curtis said, as if reading her mind. “I’ll never say it to his face, but I respect the hell out of Hawk. He has quite a record, you know.”

  “What you mean?” She tilted her head to look up at him, noting that Curtis had used the nickname Harris hated.

  “Of kills. He’s a sniper, and a really good one. The Navy was sorry to see him go. More successful shots than anyone else. When he gets you in his target, you’re dead, whether you’re fifty feet away from him or a mile. I couldn’t do it. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve done plenty of things in the heat of action. But lining up a shot like that, watching your target, spending all that time planning for it before you pull the trigger; that’s something else. That takes a kind of detachment I just don’t have.”

  He kept swaying gently to the music, and Samantha kept swaying with him, but the visions of violence Curtis had conjured shocked her. She couldn’t picture Harris as a cold-blooded killer. But then again, he was a SEAL. Of course he’d seen military action; all the men at Base Camp had. But Curtis was right—there was something about a sniper. Something—removed. Controlled.

  Calculating.

  She hadn’t seen any of that in the time she’d spent with him, but they’d only been alone together for a few hours. What did she really know about the man?

  Once again, she was all too aware of the cameras that had followed them everywhere tonight. She needed time alone to think this through—to decide if she knew Harris well enough to declare for him tonight when they got home.

  Now she wasn’t entirely sure. Curtis’s words had driven a wedge of doubt in her mind. Was Harris cold and calculating? Was that the kind of man she wanted?

  But was Curtis any different? He wasn’t an innocent here either. He was targeting her, as sure as Harris had targeted his victims. Saying exactly the right thing to make her doubt her choice.

  “I’m getting tired,” she said. “I think I need to go home. I had a very early fli
ght this morning, and it’s been a long day.”

  Curtis nodded and led her from the dance floor.

  “So what’s the verdict?” he asked when they reached their table. He drained his current drink, and Samantha drained hers, too, buying more time. She’d been so sure she would choose Harris when the night was up, but now she was second guessing herself. What did she really know about him? About either of them?

  Would it be so bad to take a month to find out more before she chose?

  “I’m going to take those thirty days to make my decision.” It hurt to say it out loud—to admit her doubts—but it was the smart thing to do, she told herself.

  To Curtis’s credit he didn’t gloat. “Thank you for giving me a chance” was all he said as he helped her on with her spenser. He took her hand as he led her from the bar, and Samantha swallowed hard, wondering what she’d done.

  Outside, the storm had blown over, leaving the air cooler but still humid, lacking the freshness that usually came after a strong rain. It was as if there was another storm coming.

  There probably was, she decided.

  Chapter Seven

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  Harris was up early the following morning, despite staying awake most of the night. He’d heard Curtis and Sam come home and go to their respective tents just before midnight, heard Sam talking to the other women as they’d all prepared to settle in for the night. He was pleased Curtis hadn’t managed to keep her out later, but they’d been gone long enough for plenty to have happened. All night long he replayed the conversation he’d had with Sam before she returned to the manor. He heard himself order her away from Curtis. Heard how cold he sounded—how domineering. That was no way to win Samantha’s heart.

  Unable to sleep any longer, he got up well before six, dressed, left his tent and headed out toward Pittance Creek. He’d stalked its banks last night for hours, pacing up and down before finally giving up and heading to bed. This time he took the long way around, feeling the need to walk the perimeter of their encampment. The most threatening thing he saw was a hawk circling high above him. All was quiet in their neck of the woods, so eventually he found his way down to the creek banks, and stood, hands shoved into his pockets, watching the water run past.