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

by Cora Seton

  The unfamiliar woman wore Regency clothing, too—a kind of uniform the household help might have worn. She put out her hand, and Samantha shook it.

  “I’m Mary—the cook. Maud sends me to help when guests come to the B&B. Who are you?”

  “My name’s Samantha Smith,” Sam said. “I just came here recently, and I don’t really have a job to do while the guests are here. Could I help you out in the kitchen?”

  “Avery helps with the cooking when she can,” Mary said. “But I wouldn’t say no to adding on a scullery maid, if that was the part you were willing to play.”

  “Scullery maid suits me fine,” Sam said. Her heart lifted. “Put me to work anywhere. Give me all the hardest jobs.” She wanted to prove to the others they needed her.

  “I’m going to like you,” Mary said. When Avery bustled in a moment later, she added, “Hope you don’t mind, Avery, but I’ve found us some new help. This is our new scullery maid, Samantha Smith.”

  Samantha dropped a perfect Regency curtsy. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am,” she said to Avery. “I’m a hard worker. And you don’t even need to pay me.”

  The corner of Avery’s mouth lifted. “Scullery maid, huh?”

  “At your service, ma’am,” Samantha said in her best impression of a Cockney accent.

  Avery grinned. “Let’s get started then.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly as Samantha worked in the kitchen—and in every room in the house—to get it ready for the guests. The other women had already given the manor a thorough cleaning, so she just hit all the high notes, polishing doorknobs, straightening towels, brushing the wrinkles from the beds in between washing sinks full of dishes and scrubbing tables and counters in the kitchen as necessary. The camera crew kept getting in the way, but Samantha dodged and darted around them, and didn’t worry about whether or not they were keeping up.

  When a taxi finally pulled into the driveway just past four o’clock, Samantha was standing in the line with the other women, her stomach filled with butterflies. It was crucial their guests love every minute of their stay here. The bed-and-breakfast business was still very new, and wouldn’t support itself for some time. Samantha wanted to be a part of it, almost as badly as she wanted to work in the gardens. There was something about sharing this beautiful ranch, the Regency dream and the work they were doing at Base Camp with other people that energized her.

  Riley and the others had negotiated with Renata to keep the cameras away from the guests over the weekend. Renata wasn’t happy with the decision, but as Savannah had pointed out, the guests were paying money for a vacation—not to be part of a television show. To their relief, Fulsom had agreed with the ban on filming at the manor over the weekend, and there wasn’t a camera in sight.

  Five young women exited the taxi, oohing and ahhing over the beautiful manor house, and the women in their old-fashioned gowns lined up in front of it.

  “I can’t wait to have a gown of my own,” one of the women gushed. “This is amazing.”

  Riley and the others went to meet them, and soon multiple conversations had sprung up around Sam, but she held back from participating. She was satisfied to be part of the scenery.

  As Riley began to herd the women toward the front door, the appearance of another vehicle grabbed Samantha’s attention. It was moving fast—far too fast on the winding driveway.

  “Who’s that?” Savannah held a hand up to shield her eyes. “I don’t recognize that car.”

  “You wouldn’t believe who was at the airport, on our flight,” one of the guests said. “Some of the members of Deader Than Ever. They were seated only a few rows away!”

  “I got their autographs,” another of the guests said.

  But Samantha wasn’t listening anymore. She knew without a shadow of a doubt who was in that car careening up the driveway toward her. She had to stop them, but she didn’t know how.

  Even as she started forward to block it, the black rental sedan skidded to a stop just feet away from the guests, who jumped back in alarm. Three of the car’s doors flung open and her family climbed out. Her mother, father and sister had all arrived.

  And they were furious.

  Rachel was the first to spot her. Samantha’s mother strode across the ground between them and slapped her across the face, hard. A collective gasp behind her told Samantha everyone present had seen. She held a hand to her cheek, too shocked to do anything else.

  “I have never been so ashamed of one of my children,” Rachel said. “If you deliberately tried to hurt me, you couldn’t have done a better job. You’ve thrown everything your father and I believe in back in our faces. All we do is sing—and that doesn’t change anything? How could you say that about our life’s work? I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because no one else is going to be.”

  Samantha, her cheek aching, stumbled to find her words. Before she could, her sister was upon them.

  “All those years you lectured me about my behavior, and this is what you do? Sign up to marry a complete stranger? A Navy SEAL? Have you lost your mind?”

  “Samantha Smith, you get in that car right now. We’re leaving. I don’t want to hear another word. These people have brainwashed you,” her father said. She’d never seen Henry so furious—in fact, she hadn’t known he was capable of it—and she stepped back, wondering if he would slap her, too. Her parents had never believed in corporal punishment. They’d never lifted a hand to her before.

  “No,” she said, finally finding her voice. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home now.”

  “I’ve heard just about enough,” Henry said. “How could you do this to us? Your mother and I—and your sister—have built our careers on standing against everything these people represent!”

  “You’ve built your career on standing against environmentalism? Against being frugal and using only what you need? Against working together to achieve a common goal? Funny, because that’s exactly what I thought you stood for!” Her anger loosened her tongue. This was why she’d left; because on the bus there was too much talk and far too little action.

  “Don’t play word games with me, Sam,” Henry said. “Every one of the men in this community has served in the military. Aren’t you too old to rebel like this?”

  “Every one of these men has risked their life for our country,” Sam retorted. “I respect them for that, even if I don’t always agree with what our government does.”

  “Don’t split hairs,” Rachel said. “Not with issues this big.”

  “Maybe the issues are more complicated than you make them out to be,” Samantha told her furiously. “Maybe people have more sides to them than you want to believe. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve committed myself to staying here and helping. To marrying the man I love. If he’ll have me.”

  “You think any man would have you after the way you acted? That episode was disgusting,” Melissa said. “I can’t believe you screwed around like that on TV.”

  Samantha laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She’d seen her sister play men off each other more times than she could count. “You’ve always told me I was too uptight, too repressed. Now I fall in love and you have something to say?”

  “You think you’re a big shot now, don’t you? Starring in a show. Just you wait until the season is over. No one will remember you,” Melissa said. “People will remember Deader Than Ever forever.”

  Was that what this was all about? Samantha couldn’t believe it.

  Or maybe she could.

  She’d stepped out of her role in her family, hadn’t she? And now everyone else was upset. She was the one who was supposed to remain in the background. She was supposed to drive the bus. Instead, she’d taken center stage on a nationwide television show. Was her family really so shallow they resented that?

  “I’m telling you again, young lady,” Henry said. “Get in the car. Now.”

  “Or what? You’re going to ground me for the first time in my life?” Samantha laughed at the ab
surdity of it.

  “Or… Or… We’ll picket the show. Then you’ll see,” he finally said. “We’ll show the world just what we think of it.”

  That shut Samantha up. With anyone else’s parents, it would’ve been an empty threat, but the members of Deader Than Ever were old hands at protesting, and they tended to garner a lot of publicity.

  “Don’t you have gigs to play? You don’t want to disappoint your fans,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Nothing you do is going to stop me, so you might as well keep right on going. Maybe someday you’ll realize what I’m doing here has merit.”

  “What you’re doing here is allowing the establishment to take over environmentalism,” Rachel broke in. “Which means they’re going to put an end to it. Greenwashing, that’s what they call it. Are you really so stupid you can’t see it?”

  “You’re the ones who are blind,” Samantha retorted. “You haven’t even looked around to see what we’re doing here before you make up your minds about it. Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.” She turned her back on them, but came to an abrupt stop faced with the crowd near the front door.

  Riley, Avery, Nora and Savannah quickly sprang into action and escorted their guests inside. Sam turned back to her parents and sister. “You have five minutes to get off this ranch before I sic all those Navy SEALs on you. They know how to get rid of people who aren’t wanted.”

  “Just try it. I don’t think you’ll like the results,” her mother said. But she returned to the car, and Henry and Melissa followed. When they drove off, Samantha breathed a sigh of relief, but she knew that wouldn’t be the end of it and she wasn’t sure what to do now. For all she’d love to follow the others inside, get back to cleaning and pretend none of this had happened, that wouldn’t solve anything.

  She’d probably better walk down to Base Camp and give Boone a head’s up. She wished she could talk to Harris. He’d know what to do.

  She wondered if he’d ever want to talk to her again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‡

  When Harris arrived back at the bunkhouse late that afternoon, he realized he’d stumbled into a private meeting of the founders.

  “Gotta do something to head this off,” Boone was saying when he walked in. Harris stopped in his tracks, and began to back out again. Boone called after him, “Might as well join us. Everyone’s going to know about this pretty quick.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “We’ve got a problem,” Jericho said. “Samantha’s family tracked her down today and they’re pissed. They threatened to picket the show unless she agrees to come home with them. Given that they’re mighty famous, that’s not an empty threat.”

  “We just heard from the sheriff, too,” Clay added. “Deader Than Ever fans have already begun to arrive in Chance Creek, along with some press. The vultures are circling, sensing trouble. This could get out of hand.

  “We need a plan,” Boone agreed.

  “What is Samantha’s family upset about? The fact that she’s marrying one of us?” He’d meant to say Curtis, but somehow the words hadn’t come out that way. He told himself he was done thinking there was anything left between him and Samantha, but his body still hadn’t seemed to realize that. Night after night it taunted him with memories of everything they’d done together. He still wanted her—bad. No matter how unrealistic that had become.

  “They hate everything about the military,” Jericho said. “The idea that their daughter is going to marry someone who served is really steaming them.”

  “If she marries anyone,” Boone said.

  “I doubt this will scare Curtis off,” Harris said and shoved his fists in his pockets. Just saying the man’s name made his blood boil.

  “This isn’t about Curtis. This is about Samantha,” Boone told him. “She’s made it clear all along she’s married to you, and that she’s going to stay married to you.”

  “But that didn’t stop her from fooling around with Curtis,” he pointed out and immediately wished he hadn’t. Boone and the others stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

  “She never fooled around with anyone—except you, from what I gather,” Jericho told him. “Kai let me know the other day he saw you and Sam sneaking around the campsite late one night. Don’t tell me nothing happened out there in the woods. Which put the whole damn community in jeopardy, by the way.”

  Harris stiffened. Kai had seen them?

  Shit, he was losing his touch.

  “Look,” Boone told him. “I’ve been with Riley long enough to know how difficult it is for her to get in and out of those clothes. I have to help her every time. What other choice did Samantha have that night with Curtis but to ask him to help in that situation? And how calm and collected would you be in her shoes, a young, beautiful woman being filmed in a bathroom while a strange man helps you off with your dress?”

  More doubts crowded into his brain, but Harris didn’t want to act the fool. “I’m not going to fight another man for Samantha.”

  “Why the hell not?” Clay demanded. “If you love someone, you fight for them, no matter what the circumstances. Are you so afraid of being hurt you won’t even try?”

  Harris bit back a sharp retort. What could he say to a man who’d been willing to take a bullet for the woman he loved? “Here’s the thing,” he managed when he’d gotten himself under control again. “She doesn’t love me.”

  “Says who?” Jericho asked. “How do you know that?”

  “I know it because—” Harris didn’t know what to say. Because he wasn’t meant for love? Because his role in life was to always be on the outside? It sure seemed that way. “Because that’s just how it is.”

  He left the building, too frustrated to keep on talking. It was too late to return to town, but he couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t stand to go to bed and toss and turn all night, either. He’d walk the perimeter of their community, instead. Time to get back to basics. He was at his best when he was alert, focused, the eyes and ears for the others. It was his job to protect the community—not to belong to it.

  He’d learned that a long time ago.

  Later that evening, Samantha’s parents were back with a caravan of vehicles, including the tour bus, and with them were the other members of the band and about thirty followers, some of whom Sam recognized. There was nothing her parents and their fans liked better than a cause. And they’d found one.

  She walked out to meet them self-consciously, burning with embarrassment that her mother and father would turn a family spat into a full-on crisis. Renata’s crews followed Sam closely, but they weren’t the only press on hand. And this was nothing. Sam knew if she didn’t put an end to this soon it would turn into a media circus.

  “You’re making yourselves look bad, you know,” she called when she neared the tour bus. Her mother and father were talking with Chris Castle and a man she didn’t recognize.

  “You’re the one who looks like a fool in that getup,” her mother said.

  Sam remembered how she’d felt when she first put on a Regency gown; like she’d finally stepped into the life she wanted to live. No wonder her mother saw her clothing as such a threat. “Chris, you’re in on this, too? You’re the one who said I should let the universe guide me.”

  “I don’t think it’s the universe that’s guiding you. I have to say it hurt, hearing you put us down like you did. We let you be part of our family. We do a hell of a lot more than sing, you know that. And if you don’t, I guess you’re going to find out.” He shrugged and made his way over to where the rest of the band was pulling out tents and luggage from the bus’s storage compartments.

  Sam hated knowing Chris thought badly of her, but she couldn’t let this continue. She turned to her parents. “I mean it; you need to leave before this gets out of hand.”

  “We’re not leaving until we’ve proven our point.” The man she didn’t recognize folded his arms over his chest. “You’re on the wrong side, Sam. Better switch
before it’s too late.”

  “Who the hell is he?” she asked her father.

  “Kenny Strike.” The man stuck his hand out. Sam didn’t shake it. With a sneer, he withdrew it. “You don’t know what you’re stepping into here.”

  “I’ve seen demonstrations before.” But she didn’t like the way he was trying to intimidate her. Who did he think he was? And why were her parents putting up with his interference?

  Melissa clattered down the steps of the tour bus and rushed to join them. “Sam—have you met Kenny?” She took his arm, leaned her head on his shoulder, and Sam understood in a rush. This was another of Melissa’s conquests. Her parents never set boundaries with Melissa.

  “Mom, Dad—I’m serious. You have to stop this.”

  “There’s no stopping it now. It’s taken on a life of its own.” Kenny waved toward the cars and vans that even now were pulling to the side of the road. Sam had seen this before. Once organizers of a demonstration put out the word, social media allowed the message to spread quickly. Deader Than Ever were so well known their calls to action reached millions of fans.

  “Fine. You had your chance. Just remember when it’s all over, and you look like idiots, you chose him over me.” She pointed at Kenny and strode off to report back to Boone, telling him as clearly as she could what he needed to expect would happen in the next few days.

  Boone called the sheriff, who arrived quickly and told the interlopers in no uncertain terms they couldn’t trespass on private property. Sam’s parents’ reaction was to block traffic on the street, instead.

  Cab Johnson called an emergency meeting with the principals of Base Camp in the bunkhouse. Since it was her family causing the issue, Sam joined in.

  “You’re not using the land closest to the highway,” Cab told them. “It’s close enough to both the manor and Base Camp you can keep an eye on the protestors if they’re there. Bring in porta-potties, make sure they have access to running water. Things like this can get messy fast if they’re not handled correctly.”