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

by Cora Seton

  “You could say that.”

  “The wife and I snuck in for the concert.”

  Harris chuckled. “You didn’t need to sneak; everyone was welcome.”

  “That little lady of yours all right?”

  “Yes, she is.” And he’d spent every spare moment he could with her these past few days. Free from having to hide their relationship, they’d struggled to keep their hands off each other. Harris never found it difficult to think of something to say now he wasn’t worried she’d leave him. They’d decided to wait until their wedding night to make love again, and the anticipation was killing him. “About Sam,” he went on. “My wedding is coming up—second wedding,” he amended. “I want to make something for her. A gift.”

  Egan was already nodding. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Something for the house. Something to make it ours.”

  Egan thought a moment. “A door knocker. Something like this.” Egan pulled a scrap piece of paper and a stubby pencil out of his pocket. He braced it on the anvil and began to sketch. A few minutes later he held it out for Harris’s inspection.

  “I like it.” Harris admired the man’s skill. “Not sure I can pull it off, though.”

  “We’ll do it together, one step at a time.” Egan patted him on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Oh, yeah? What for?”

  “For being the kind of man who doesn’t quit. You’ll be a good husband for Sam.”

  “I’m damn well going to try.”

  “It’s all yours,” Avery said to Sam, throwing open the door to the best guestroom the manor had to offer. All the women had decided to spend the night before her wedding up at the house together—a kind of sleepover bachelorette party, as Avery had put it when she’d come up with the idea.

  “All mine?” Sam’s heart squeezed with excitement. A whole room. Just for her.

  “Don’t forget the en suite.” Avery threw open that door, too. “You’d better spend an hour or more luxuriating in that tub. Who knows when you’ll next get a chance?”

  “Probably never,” Sam agreed. “It’s solar showers from now on.”

  Avery laughed. “Solar showers with your husband. That’s not so bad, is it?”

  “We’ll see.” But secretly Sam thought she was right. Any time spent with Harris was wonderful—especially now that nothing stood between them.

  “We’ll meet up at seven for dinner. Until then, take all the time you need. Really—enjoy it,” Avery told her. “You deserve every minute of happiness.”

  “Even if two men fought over me?” Sam poked her in the side.

  Avery batted her hand away. “Even if two men fought over you,” she agreed with a sigh.

  After Avery helped her to undress and went off to prepare for the evening, Sam took her time exploring the room while her tub filled. It was heavenly to have so much space to herself. She could spend a lifetime here—

  No, she decided. Not a lifetime. A week or two, maybe, but then Base Camp would call to her again, with all its bustle and busyness. She loved being part of that community, and even Harris had lightened up since the day of the riot. That smile of his came far more quickly and he wasn’t so eager to go off alone.

  She missed him already, although she’d been with him only a half-hour ago. She wouldn’t see him again until she walked down the aisle. Just the thought of her wedding sent tremors running through her. She wasn’t sure why; they’d done this before, after all.

  But this time they’d be filmed, and their families would be present. She would meet his mother and sisters for the first time tomorrow. She prayed they approved of her.

  Most of all, this time she knew that forever lay on the other side of the ceremony. Renata couldn’t keep them apart anymore. Tomorrow night they’d enter their tiny home together—

  And start their married life for real.

  Her bath stretched on for more than an hour. She couldn’t help draining out the cool water and adding more hot. Just this once she would indulge. Then she’d adhere to Base Camp’s environmentally sound practices for the rest of her life. As soon as Jericho got his turbines and solar arrays up, things would get more comfortable, anyway. Meanwhile, she’d focus on her husband. On her gardens.

  On starting a family.

  Sam couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Sixteen

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  The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright. Harris was grateful to see the sunshine, since they hoped to hold the ceremony and reception outside. They had been prepared to move it to the great room at the manor, but with all the guests they expected, it would’ve been crowded. Besides, Samantha had said more than once that getting to spend her time outdoors was one of the best parts about moving to Base Camp.

  Their tiny house was done, although he had forbidden Samantha to come near it until he was able to carry her over the threshold after the wedding. He couldn’t wait to show it to her—including the hand-wrought door knocker he’d installed this morning on the door. He wished he’d had the talent to do all of the fine wood finishing work, but he was proud to be able to say that Curtis had done it to his specifications. Once he’d finished the door knocker, he’d had enough time to forge many of the iron handles and drawer pulls for the cabinets, too, under Roy Egan’s tutelage. He had a feeling Samantha would appreciate those touches.

  They would spend their first night in their tiny house, and then head up to a cabin in the nearby mountains donated for the occasion by the Mathesons—a nearby ranching family Boone and the other founders had known since they were kids. It was brand-new, rebuilt after a snowstorm had damaged the previous one. Harris had seen pictures, and it seemed the perfect getaway for him and Samantha to spend time alone together.

  He and Sam had discussed the future over and over again, and had decided to start their family as soon as possible. Three pregnancies were still required to meet Fulsom’s conditions for them to keep the ranch, and Harris looked forward to trying to provide the group with one of them.

  Samantha seemed just as intrigued with the idea of becoming a mother as he was with the idea of becoming a father. Now that he knew he belonged here at Base Camp, he couldn’t wait to get started. Unlike his own father, he would stay with his family through thick and thin. He was positive the love he shared with Samantha would last forever.

  In the days after the riot, he’d had plenty of time to think about cause and effect, and whether or not he could’ve prevented what had happened. The answer he’d come up with was possibly. But no matter what had happened, they’d all come together to restore their community afterward. That was the beauty of life at Base Camp. He didn’t need to work alone. He was one man among equals, all of them sharing a common goal. No longer would he stand on the far side of the roof. From here on in, he would sink or swim with the others.

  As had become the custom here at Base Camp, the men were donning Revolutionary War–era uniforms for the wedding—Alice’s answer to the kind of uniforms Regency men would have been wearing. But this time, to the men’s surprise, Alice brought over blue uniforms instead of the red ones she’d lent them previously. She gathered them all in the bunkhouse for a final fitting that morning.

  “It’s just too unpatriotic to keep forcing you to dress up as British redcoats instead of American patriots,” she said as she worked on fitting Harris’s uniform. “I figured with the number of weddings you’ll need to have, I’d better come up with the right clothes.”

  “We could wear normal suits. Or better yet, our good jeans,” Harris told her.

  “Hush, or I’ll stab you with a pin,” Alice said. “You have to match the women.”

  “Of course.” Harris didn’t mind nearly as much as he made out. Alice was right; at least now their old-fashioned uniforms were from the right continent. Those old red coat uniforms had done in a pinch, but Base Camp was here to stay, and there’d be plenty more Regency weddings down the road.

  As if reading his mind, Boone said, “
Since we’re all gathered anyway, might as well draw straws for the next victim.”

  There was an uncomfortable shuffling as the as yet-to-be married men contemplated their future. The cameras, following closely as usual, honed in on the straws Boone had produced in his hand.

  “Walker, Jericho, Curtis, Kai, Angus, Greg and Anders, come on down. Let’s see who’s up next.” Boone wasn’t going to let anyone off the hook. Harris grinned, glad his marriage was already sewn up.

  As the others gathered around Boone, Alice finished her inspection of Harris’s uniform. “I’m just going to keep pretending that there is a tear in this seam,” she whispered to him. “I’ve got to see how this ends.”

  Angus drew first, but his straw was long. He frowned, and Harris wondered if he was anxious to get on with marrying Win. Kai and Greg drew next. Theirs were long, too. Curtis drew a long straw, and exhaled visibly. Anders drew another long one.

  “It’s down to Walker and Jericho,” Boone said. “And rightly so. One of the founders should marry next.”

  “Don’t know about that,” Jericho said. “Seems we’re all in this together.”

  “And everyone drew their straw, fair and square,” Boone said. He thrust his fist in front of Walker’s face. “Don’t think keeping quiet is going to make me forget you,” he said. “Isn’t it time to put Avery out of her misery?”

  Harris was glad none of the women of Westfield were present, and he hoped Alice knew well enough to keep her mouth shut. Avery’s relationship with Walker was a sore point, and since Walker never talked about anything, no one knew which way the wind was blowing.

  Walker shot Boone a long, brooding look, but reached out and grasped one of the straws. He hesitated, and Harris was sure everyone in the room was holding his breath. When he finally tugged it out of Boone’s grasp, he held it up so everyone could see it was long.

  “Well, hell,” Jericho said. “Guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Would’ve liked it to be later, though.” He disappeared out of the bunkhouse before anyone could stop him.

  “It’s for the best,” Boone said to no one in particular. “If Savannah doesn’t want him, she should tell him once and for all, so Jericho can get on with things.”

  “It’s not always that easy,” Clay said. Harris knew he was thinking of Nora.

  “So far things have turned out,” Harris said, speaking up for the first time. “Maybe it’ll turn out for them, too.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Boone said.

  Alice smoothed down the arms of Harris’s jacket one last time. “There. You’re all set. All of you look very handsome. I’ll see everyone at the wedding.” She slipped out of the bunkhouse, too.

  “The ceremony starts in less than an hour,” Boone said. “You ready, Harris?”

  “Never been readier.”

  As Samantha paced down the grassy aisle between the rows of white folding chairs the men had set up that morning on the lawn in front of the manor, she didn’t think her wedding day could be more perfect. Savannah had made sure her beautiful wedding gown was cleaned and pressed, and Alice had repaired any damage it had sustained. It wasn’t a traditional Regency gown, but she’d worn it for her first wedding to Harris and nothing else would do for her second walk down the aisle to marry him. She leaned on her father’s arm, feeling closer to him than she’d felt in years. Her mother sat in the first row, and had twisted around to watch her progress. Her sister took her place next to the three other bridesmaids Samantha had chosen: Win, Savannah and Avery. And her dress was a respectable peach Regency affair, the same as the other women wore.

  All her new friends sat waiting for the ceremony to begin. Members of the band, and the core group of fans who had stayed behind to rebuild Base Camp, sat in many of the chairs on her side of the aisle. Alice and several of her sisters sat there, too, along with other people from the community she’d met over the weeks that she’d been here.

  On the other side of the aisle were the Egans, Harris’s mother and sisters, who’d come up from Louisiana with their husbands and children, his aunt, uncle and cousins, and more members of the community whom he’d met along the way. Samantha realized they were already well on their way to belonging in Chance Creek.

  She allowed her gaze to stray to Harris and the men standing beside him as she neared the altar. He’d chosen Curtis, Kai, Jericho and Walker as his groomsman. She’d heard Jericho was due to marry next, and even in the middle of her own wedding, she couldn’t help but be curious as to the state of things between Savannah and him.

  Her father dropped a kiss on her head before moving to sit next to her mother in the first row. Harris came to stand beside her, and for the second time in six weeks she faced an officiant and waited for her wedding to begin. Maybe two weddings wasn’t such a bad idea after all, she thought several minutes later as she realized this time around she was relaxed enough to hear every word Reverend Halpern said.

  When Harris repeated the vows he’d sworn to her only weeks before, this time they rang even truer. She knew now he’d meant everything he’d said back then, and she was glad she’d get to speak her vows again, too. Today she truly knew the man she was standing beside, and that knowledge had grown her regard for him into a love strong and deep.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” Reverend Halpern said, and Harris lifted her delicate veil over her head. He leaned forward, and Samantha met him halfway, eager to feel his touch again.

  The wait had been worth it. Every nerve in her body came to attention as Harris cupped her chin in his hands and kissed her. This was her husband.

  This was the man with whom she’d spend the rest of her life.

  When he finally pulled away, amid thunderous clapping and cheers, Samantha leaned forward again and whispered in his ear, “I can’t wait to be alone with you tonight.”

  “I can’t wait, either.”

  They had to wait, though—through dinner, and dancing to an intimate set played by Deader Than Ever. Neither her parents nor her sister seemed upset to share the limelight with her on this special day, and Samantha was brimming over with love for everyone present by the time the evening wound down.

  She once caught sight of Jericho and Savannah in a heated discussion by the front door of the manor, but didn’t think of them again until late that night as Harris led her toward the brand-new tiny house they’d both helped to build. She wished them well in her heart and hoped that one day they would be as happy as she and Harris were.

  “Hold on,” Harris said when they got close. He scooped her into his arms and carried her easily up and over the threshold, although he had to turn sideways to get them both safely inside. When he set her down again and pointed to the door knocker, Samantha covered her mouth with her hands.

  “It’s… beautiful.” The door knocker was shaped like a hawk, its head protruding from the door toward her. In its beak it held a carefully crafted iron ring made to look like several different herbs and flowers twisted together. She knew instinctively they were meant to represent her love of gardening. Just like the hawk represented Harris’s desire to keep her—and everyone else in Base Camp—safe. “You and me,” she said.

  “That’s right. You and me together. Like we should be.” He shut the door and led her farther inside. Sam was nearly overcome by what she saw. The whole interior seemed crafted just for her. She recognized the other iron work Harris had done right away; handles for the cabinet doors wrought into familiar species of plants she was cultivating in the greenhouse, the stems and leaves works of art. Like the other tiny houses, this one had been built with organic curves so that it felt like it had grown out of the earth, rather than being man-made. Set into the hillside, its large front glass windows let in lots of light. “I love it. Harris, I adore it.” She threw her arms around his neck and realized with a renewed surge of joy she was allowed to hug him like this now. No one stood in their way as man and wife, and judging by the look in Harris’s eyes, he was as ple
ased as she was by the thought.

  “Come here.” He led her toward the little bedroom and showed her how he’d built the bed as a loft over a closet, storage space and built-in chest of drawers. He helped her up and she saw at once how the high bed felt like an escape from the rest of the world.

  “I feel like a kid in a treehouse,” she told him.

  “What I’ve got in mind is for grownups.” He kissed her and Samantha’s heart felt full to bursting. How had she managed to come so far in such a short period of time? From being frustrated and thwarted back in her family’s bus to feeling like every dream she’d ever had was coming true.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you, too. But I want to get you out of that dress.”

  There was nothing she wanted more. She felt a pang at putting aside the beautiful gown, but it had served its purpose, making her feel like a queen on her wedding day—not once, but twice. Now she wanted nothing to come between her and Harris.

  “We’d better do this on the ground,” he said a moment later. Helping her down again, he got to work on the complicated fastenings and had the beautiful gown off her in no time at all. Samantha hung it carefully in the closet, and noticed other items of her clothing there. She smiled, knowing her friends had transferred her things to her new house while she’d been busy at the reception. She didn’t wear stays under this modern gown, but Harris took his time undoing her strapless bra, kissing each new inch of skin laid bare by his skillful fingers. Samantha buzzed all over with the delicious knowledge that soon those hands would caress her everywhere. As if reading her mind, he set aside her bra, ran his hands up to cup her breasts and softly squeezed.

  His touch made Samantha weak in the knees, and she sagged back blissfully against Harris’s muscled chest and let him explore her body. As she stepped out of her modern panties, he turned her around and bent to press his mouth to one nipple. Sam moaned, almost overcome again.