by Cora Seton
“There’s no enemy territory in Chance Creek.” And she’d rather not face someone who was trying to kill her. Just thinking of the situations Clay must have experienced made her shiver.
“There are other kinds of missions.”
“And what—you’re going to make one up?”
“Nah. Not me. Boone’s the chief around here.” Clay grinned and her heart did a little flip. That smile undid her in so many ways. “He’s good at finding missions, too. You’d better hold on to your socks, baby girl. Shit’s about to get real.”
Nora rolled her eyes and turned around. “Settle down there, sailor. You’d better take me back.”
Chapter Twelve
‡
He hadn’t made much progress he could document, but Clay felt like he’d taken a giant step forward with Nora during his walk. He’d broached the topic of marriage—the elephant in the room. Now she knew he considered her a candidate, and she knew he meant to pursue her. And he’d come up with a brilliant idea. They needed a common goal—a challenge they could share. He was sure Boone could think of something. As they walked back toward the picnic site, he didn’t force the conversation. Instead he enjoyed the waning daylight, the peaceful scene and the timeless feeling of the moment.
Then the cameraman in front of him tripped.
“Fuck!”
Byron landed hard on his ass and nearly pitched his video camera into Pittance Creek. Clay leaped to grab it and offered a hand to the young man.
“Thanks.” Byron got up gingerly and rubbed his lower back. “Damn tree roots.”
The ground was smooth as far as Clay could see, but he’d let the kid have his dignity. “You all right?” he asked as he handed back the camera.
“Yeah.” Byron looked over his shoulder. “You better not be filming this,” he said to Craig.
Craig chuckled. “Of course I’m filming this. It’ll go on the bloopers reel.”
“Turn it off.” Byron pushed past Clay to confront Craig. “I said, turn it off.”
“No way.”
Clay moved back to stand by Nora. They exchanged an amused look while the two men were arguing. When she held his gaze, he lifted a brow. She nodded imperceptibly, and he bent down slowly enough to give her a chance to pull away. When Nora held her ground, he kissed her. At first she held still, as if braced to flee, but then she softened and the kiss became real. He cupped the back of her neck and savored the taste of her, running his tongue over the curve of her lips and moving closer when she let him in.
A moment later, Nora pulled back. “Behave,” she said quietly in what he supposed was her schoolmarm voice. It was a sexy voice, and it had the opposite effect than the one she was probably hoping for.
“I don’t want to.” He leaned in for another one.
She didn’t stop him, so he slid an arm around her waist. She felt so good in his arms he didn’t care if they were being filmed. Nora didn’t protest, so he took his time and enjoyed himself, until the sudden quiet told him the cameramen had spotted them.
He broke away from Nora reluctantly. “To be continued later.”
“Maybe.” But she smiled and his heart lifted.
His mind went back to the puzzle she’d presented him. How could they get to know each other quickly enough to make up their minds about marrying?
It all came down to time, he decided. He was going to spend every moment he could with Nora.
“Talk about sex,” Renata said, surveying Nora and the other women as they sat at the kitchen table in the manor the next morning, ostensibly to come up with a full proposal for their next B and B guests. “You girls are alone, the talk gets racy, you swap stories. You know the drill.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nora said. She definitely didn’t intend to take part in some kind of girls gone wild scenario.
“I never kid,” Renata shot back. “Start rolling. I’ll be back later to check on things.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room after she’d left. Byron, the youngest cameraman, had taken up a position on one side of the room, and Craig had positioned himself on the other side. A third man held a boom over their heads, and several other people waited in the wings to help out where needed.
“Tell us more about your honeymoon, Riley,” Avery said in a strained voice.
Riley made a face. “I already told you everything—”
Craig made a rolling motion with his hands—a kind of start talking gesture. Riley gave in with a sigh. “It was… wonderful,” she said.
“That’s what you said last time. We want details.” Her tone expressionless, Avery fiddled with the pen and paper she’d brought to the table. A pitcher of lemonade sat sweating nearby. Nora took a sip from her glass, savoring the tartness of the drink.
Riley glared at Avery in exasperation, but then, with a sidelong look at Byron, she dropped a hand to her belly and spoke with an exaggerated Western drawl. “Let’s just say if I’m not pregnant, it’s not for lack of trying. That cowboy really put me through my paces.”
Savannah choked on the sip she had just taken. “TMI! We’re being filmed,” she hissed.
But something had gotten into Riley, and she continued. “We went at it morning, noon and night.”
“Was it romantic?” Avery played along with a grin.
“It was… exhausting. I don’t know what got into Boone. I slept through some of it, I think. He just kept on going.” Riley waved a hand expressively.
Avery laughed, a giggle that turned into a snort.
“Some men have the courtesy to stop when that happens,” Savannah said, so seriously it took Nora a minute to realize she had joined in the game.
“Not Boone.” Riley shrugged her shoulders. “The man’s a machine. He really ought to have three or four wives.”
If Savannah could jump in, so could she, Nora figured. Why the hell shouldn’t she kid around? Things had been so serious for so long she could use a laugh. “You can always share him around,” she said. “Maybe make a little money on the side. It’s not like he’s bringing a lot of that to the table, right?”
“Can I borrow him tonight?” Savannah asked. “It’s been a while, and I could use a good f—”
“All right, ladies.” Craig clapped his hands together so loudly they all jumped. “You’ve had your fun. And I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”
“Renata told us to talk about sex,” Avery said sweetly. “We aim to please.”
“No, you thought you’d be clever,” Craig said. “You thought you’d make it impossible for us to use this segment. Sorry to disappoint you, ladies—this is reality TV. Audiences eat this shit up. We’ll probably lead off the next episode with it.” He motioned to Byron. “Come on. We’ve got enough.”
The women watched them leave.
“I’d probably better warn Boone about that,” Riley said, picking at the fabric of her gown.
“Will he be mad?” Avery asked.
Riley shook his head. “He’ll think it’s funny. I hope.” She straightened with a grin. “Now that they’re gone, let’s get to work. I’ve got to get back soon so Boone can screw me silly again.”
“I miss you,” Savannah said, leaning over and giving her a hug.
“I miss you, too, but you can’t borrow my husband.” Riley hugged her back. “Now, tell me about this client.”
Avery brightened. “She’s coming with some friends in just a few weeks. She wants painting lessons and a carriage ride…”
They brainstormed ideas for an hour before deciding they’d better split up and do their usual morning chores. Riley headed back down to Base Camp. It was Nora’s turn to do the bedrooms, giving each en suite a quick clean up and sweeping the bedroom floors, along with the hall and staircase. She decided to start with her own room, but when she climbed the two flights of stairs and reached for the knob of her third-floor bedroom, the door swung open. Nora stopped in her tracks.
That was strange; she was sure she’d shut it tightly before she
’d gone down to breakfast this morning. She’d heard the click when the latch caught. Uneasiness crept through her before she could ward it off. She bit her lip, hating the way she looked for trouble everywhere these days.
She couldn’t bring herself to enter the room, though. What if someone was still in there?
Footsteps pounded up the stairs behind her—Savannah coming to fetch something from her room.
Savannah paused when she saw her standing outside her door. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s been here.” Nora reproached herself for blurting it out like that. She didn’t know for sure it was true.
“What do you mean?” Savannah crossed to her.
“In my room. I closed the door this morning. Just now it was open.”
Savannah hesitated, then turned and called, “Avery!”
Thirty seconds later, a panting Avery joined them. “What is it?”
“Nora thinks someone’s been in her room.”
Avery’s shoulders slumped. “But—”
Nora, unable to stand it anymore, pushed the door open and strode inside. It was empty. Of course.
“What about the bathroom?” Savannah said in a low tone, coming up behind her.
Hating herself for the way her heart was pounding, Nora stalked across the room and pushed the door wide open. A glance told her the en suite was empty, too. “No one’s here,” she said, relief making her almost giddy.
“You’re braver than I am,” Avery said, trailing into the room. “What made you think someone was here?”
Nora explained about her door.
“That could have happened at any time, though,” Avery said thoughtfully. “Someone could have been and gone.”
“We locked the main doors,” Savannah reminded her.
“No, we didn’t. I let the camera crew come in the front door this morning, and you let Renata in through the back.”
“Then both doors are unlocked right now?”
“I’ll go check.” Avery ran lightly down the stairs.
Savannah turned to Nora. “What about the other bedrooms?”
Nora looked at her in dismay, but there was nothing for it but to search them, too. Just as they had the day before, they walked through the house, starting with the bedrooms and ending in the kitchen. Avery joined them halfway through without needing to be told what they were doing.
“There’s no one here,” she said out loud when they were done, stating the obvious.
“I’m sorry,” Nora said. “I’m just jumpy, I guess.”
“What is this really about?” Avery asked her. “Is it the camera crews, or are you worried about that stalker?”
“Have you received any of those awful messages since you’ve been here?” Savannah added.
“No. Of course not—no one knows my phone number except our families.”
“But with the show’s website he might know where you are,” Avery said. “I understand if you’re nervous.”
Nora didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m going to finish my chores.”
“I’ll come up with you. I left my apron upstairs,” Savannah said.
They walked up together, leaving Avery in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” Nora said again. “I can’t believe I’m being so overwrought about all of this.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been so calm. Not with what you’ve been through this year,” Savannah countered. She gave Nora a quick hug before going to fetch her apron. Nora entered her room—and immediately felt that something was wrong. She scanned the bed, the dresser, desk and bookshelves—and sucked in a breath. There—on the shelf where she’d placed some of her favorite paperbacks and textbooks. One of them had been pulled partway out, its spine jutting an inch or so out past all the others.
She hadn’t done that; she’d been reading the same paperback for days.
Nora swiftly crossed the room and tugged it out the rest of the way.
The Teacher as Student.
She dropped it like the book had burned her. It used to be one of her favorites—a treatise on the way children learned when left to themselves and how teachers could study them to learn better teaching methods.
She didn’t think she’d ever be able to read it again.
Her stalker was sending a message. She was sure of it. You think you can teach me anything? Wait until I’m the one in charge.
“Savannah?”
Savannah came running. “What is it?”
“He… he was here,” she said, her voice so thin it didn’t sound like her own.
“Who? The stalker?” Savannah caught sight of her face. “Nora? What happened?”
“The book… that one…” She couldn’t get the words out. Instead, she pointed toward the textbook on the floor.
Savannah went over to examine it. “I don’t understand.”
“It was sticking out of the bookshelf!” Nora knew she wasn’t making any sense. “I didn’t do that. I haven’t touched it.”
“Are you sure?”
“He was here!” Nora’s knees had grown wobbly, and she lurched over to sit on the bed. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she bent over, suddenly dizzy.
“Nora, are you okay?” Savannah crouched on the floor beside her.
“He was in my room,” Nora insisted.
“Maybe it wasn’t your stalker. Maybe it was someone else.” Savannah’s face was pale.
“Like who?”
Savannah shrugged. “Renata. A crew member. How far was it pulled out?”
“Just a little. An inch, maybe.”
Savannah’s brows furrowed. “An inch?”
“Maybe. Maybe a little less.”
“But…” Her friend joined her on the bed. “Nora, could you be mistaken? Maybe you didn’t push it in all the way. Maybe you didn’t notice before and it’s only because you’re so…” She trailed off.
“I didn’t imagine it!” Nora was stung by Savannah’s insinuations, but at the same time she’d begun to doubt herself.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she had been the one to pull it out. Maybe when she’d searched the shelf for the paperback she was reading, she’d dislodged it a little and hadn’t noticed.
But in her heart she knew it wasn’t true. Her bookshelf had been neat when she left earlier—just the way she liked it.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Savannah said.
They met Avery in the kitchen. She took one look at Nora and fetched her a glass of water.
“Out in the sunshine,” Savannah ordered them. “She’s had a shock,” she said to Avery. “She needs fresh air and light. And I think it’s time you told us everything that happened back in Baltimore, Nora. We need to figure this out.”
When they were settled on the back porch, that’s what Nora did. At first her words came in broken phrases, but as she spoke, it became easier. All the pent-up fear and worry came spilling out, but no tears. She was damned if she would cry now when she needed all her wits about her.
“I really think he was here,” she told them. Her stomach sank when she caught the glance that ran between them. It sounded crazy. She knew it did.
“Whether or not he was, we need to be more careful,” Avery declared. “Every time someone comes or goes, we’ll lock the doors. Every time.”
“We need to tell the men about your stalker, too,” Savannah said. “They’re all ex-military. They’ll know how to protect us.”
“No!” Nora struggled for calm. She had to be clear on that point. “Renata will have a field day with it,” she explained. “She’ll be all over my past, interviewing people, digging up dirt.”
“Do you have something to hide?”
Nora blinked at Savannah’s question. “Of course not! But they’ll make it look like I do. A student is stalking me. Leaving sexual messages. What’ll they make of that? I taught seventeen and eighteen year olds. What will they insinuate?”
Savannah nodded. “You’re right.” She sounded defeated. “Renata’s a pit
bull, and the show is more important to her than any of us. She’s already run background checks on us. You know that, right?”
“What do you mean?” Nora was aghast.
“Some of my family and friends told me they’d gotten calls from the show. Renata asked them a lot of questions.”
“Yep. My family got those calls, too,” Avery confirmed.
“I don’t have any family.” Nora thought about who Renata might call. Her old school? Would the administration let slip about the stalker?
No, she decided. They hadn’t wanted to pursue it. They’d been grateful when she’d left. Her old friends didn’t know about it, either. She’d let all her close relationships slide during her mother’s illness. Renata must be dying to dig up more dirt on her than she’d gotten so far.
“We can’t say anything to anyone,” she insisted. “Like you said, we’ll be careful. There’s no way an eighteen-year-old boy can keep running around Chance Creek without being caught. He’ll run out of cash. If he’s even here.”
“A minute ago you were persuading us he’d been in your room,” Savannah said.
“Tell Clay,” Avery urged. “Tell him everything you’ve told us and let him know you want to keep it from Renata. He’ll know what to do.”
“Okay,” Nora agreed reluctantly. “I’ll tell him.”
Chapter Thirteen
‡
“A mission?” Boone looked thoughtful as he considered Clay’s request. “Yeah, I can give you a mission. I can go one better than that, too.”
“What do you mean?” Clay stroked the nose of a roan mare. They were standing in the stables, discussing which horse would be the best mount for a novice rider. And where they might find an old-fashioned sidesaddle.
“Renata isn’t pleased by the lack of girl boy interaction, as she keeps putting it in that wonderful British accent of hers. She’s complained to Fulsom, and he’s lowered the boom. All the women have to move to Base Camp by the end of the day.”