A SEAL's Oath (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 1) (26 page)

The evening was filled with chatter and laughter and Riley wished she could enjoy it as much as everyone else was. She tried her best, leaving her hand clasped in Boone’s as they listened to the ’60s ballad Ella chose to sing.

She had begun to get excited about the wedding they were planning for Andrea, who had decided to come to Westfield several days early with all her bridesmaids and spend an extended weekend at the manor. She and her bridesmaids wanted a Jane Austen experience, and Savannah had gotten their measurements and had contacted Alice Reed, the local seamstress Regan had mentioned, who was excited to create several gowns for each participant.

Alice had stopped by that morning with sketches and examples of her work, and all of them had been stunned to see her beautiful creations. Riley and the rest had immediately commissioned her to make dresses for them for the wedding, too.

If she could hold out for six months, there’d be more weddings to plan, she reminded herself. There’d be plenty of time for painting, too. Things would get better. She had to be patient.

Later that evening, Colt Hall asked for the chance to drive a carriage, and James assented. When it was time to go, Colt sat on the barouche’s high driver’s seat with James. As Savannah, Nora and Avery climbed into their seats, Boone asked Riley, “Want to ride with me on Behemoth?”

“I’d have to sit side saddle.”

“I think we can manage it.” He lifted her up and sat behind her. Keeping Behemoth’s pace at a slow walk and his arms around Riley, he directed the horse along the road by the light of the stars after the rest of the Halls drove off in their trucks and the carriage set out toward Westfield.

“You’re quiet,” Boone said.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You enjoyed the music?”

“And the company, and the food and… everything.” It was too nice an evening to spoil it with her worries.

“So you think you can be content here?”

“I think so.” She snuggled closer into his arms, wishing she could answer him unconditionally.

They rode along in peace for a while before Boone sighed.

“What is it?” Riley asked sleepily, the sway of the horse and the late hour combining to make her eyelids heavy.

“I have to tell you something. Something big.”

His serious tone roused her a little. “What is it?”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” Riley whispered. Despite everything, she felt utterly secure these days in the knowledge of how much Boone cared for her. It was evident in the way he touched her so reverently. The way he made sure of her pleasure before his own. He had even begun to give the arts a little more weight in his conversations.

“You know how important Base Camp is to me, too. Not because I’m out for glory, but because I truly want to help.”

“Yes.” She struggled to sit up, intent on giving him her full attention.

“I’ve never told you why.”

“No,” she agreed. “You haven’t.”

“I’d like to, if you’re willing to listen.”

“Do you really have to ask?”

For a moment the only sound was the clip-clop of Behemoth’s hooves on the road. A light breeze touched her face, but otherwise the night was still and warm. Riley wished Boone’s words hadn’t conjured such uneasiness in her, but she knew he wouldn’t have brought up the topic if it weren’t important.

“It was just over two years ago. My team was sent to Yemen. I haven’t always gotten to serve with the Horsemen, but this time we were together. Good thing. I needed them.”

Fear tightened Riley’s gut even though Boone was safe here in Chance Creek with her. She hated the thought of him being in danger.

“Our job was to rescue four aid workers who’d been caught in the civil war that’s been tearing up that country.”

“I didn’t realize it’s been going on so long.”

“It didn’t make the news much back then, but believe me, things were bad. The workers were there to bring medical supplies for a civilian hospital. A battle broke out around them while they were en route, and they got stuck. They couldn’t go forward and they couldn’t go back. They had very little food. Even less water. They made a break from their car and holed up in a bombed-out building they thought was empty. It had been a school—and they found children hiding there, too.”

“Oh, my God.”

“They were able to communicate with us via satellite phone. The good news was they had a solar-charger for it and we were able to speak frequently. The bad news was we couldn’t catch a break. Every time we thought we could get in to extract them, something went wrong.”

“It sounds horrible.” She could picture Boone pacing a room while he and the others tried to sort it out. She knew he’d have wanted to charge in and get those kids. What an awful kind of restraint he’d learned in his time with the SEALs.

“We talked with the aid workers for five days while they watched over and cared for the children with what little supplies they had. We tried to help keep up their morale as the situation got worse. We took turns.” His voice was so bleak she wanted to hold him. Instead she kept still and let him talk.

“They took turns, too,” he said. “Two of them keeping watch, one of them sleeping, one of them talking. My mark was Francine Heller. We talked for hours. Francine was sixty-eight. A hell of a woman. You would have liked her.”

She closed her eyes against the sting of tears.
Would have liked
. Francine hadn’t made it, then. “What did you talk about?”

“War. Love. Hate. Death. Life. Belief.”

All the conversations she wanted to have with him. “What did she say?”

“That life was worth fighting for. That the West has to understand what’s happening to the East. That things are changing—they’re always changing—and somehow we have to learn to be more adaptable.”

“She sounds wise.”

“Yemen’s civil war is about resources, Riley. At the end of the day it always comes down to that.”

“Which is why you’re building Base Camp.” The rocking motion of Behemoth beneath her grounded her in a way she needed right now. There was so much suffering in the world. She was lucky—so very lucky—to be safe, warm, fed, clothed and in the arms of someone she loved. “What happened to Francine?”

Boone just shook his head, his chin grazing her hair. “I lost her, Riley. I lost all of them. I was on the phone with her when another strike took them out.” His arms tightened around her. Riley’s chest ached for those children, for Francine.

For them all.

“So when I’m too focused on my work, or when I demand things of you, I’m not trying to be an ass. I’m fighting for Francine in the only way I know how.”

It was her turn to nod. She couldn’t speak.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he went on. “I should have been honest right from the start. I was… afraid… I’d lose you, too.”

Riley could barely breathe. Whatever was coming would hurt. She knew that.

“It’s about Fulsom. You know that in order to raise money for this project, he’s arranged to document the entire process while we build our community. A film crew will arrive in a couple of weeks. After your guests leave,” he hastened to add.

“Right.” Behemoth kept walking and Riley wished the horse would stop. It was as if he was carrying her to some uncertain doom. She wanted to cling to things the way they were for just a few more minutes. But that was impossible.

“I talked to Fulsom about your plans for our Regency wedding. He said no.”

“I… don’t understand.” But she did, only too well. Fulsom would win and she would lose—again.

“He won’t sign over the deed to the ranch until the show is over. I don’t call the shots here.” He faltered. “Not even at the manor. The camera crew will be all over Westfield. You’ll have to put an end to your Jane Austen life for the duration of the show. Your friends, too.”

“Boone—you promised.”

“I know. There’s more.”

“More?” She didn’t think she could stand it.

“It’s about the ranch. Fulsom has to drum up an audience, and let’s face it, sustainability is pretty dry stuff. That’s why he’s forcing us to marry and film our weddings and that’s why he’s set a series of goals we have to meet in six months’ time. If we fail—”

“You lose the ranch. I already know that.”

“What you don’t know is that he’ll give it to John Montague, a developer who plans to knock down the manor and build seventy brand new luxury homes on the ranch.”

“Let me down.” She had to get away from Boone. From his words. From the image of destruction he’d planted in her brain. “Boone, let me down. Now.”

“Riley—”

Riley jumped down from the horse, nearly stumbled, but caught herself. Behemoth sidestepped and Boone fought to control him. “Riley!”

She took off running. Maybe it wasn’t dignified. Riley didn’t care. She had to do something, because if Westfield was gone—

If Westfield was gone—

Riley ran faster, desperately needing to assure herself it was still there. She’d lost her grandparents. Lost the love they’d surrounded her with. Would she lose Westfield, too?

“Riley, if there was any other way, I’d never ask you—” Boone dismounted and followed her on foot. He touched her back and she wrenched herself away, stumbling to a stop.

She couldn’t stand this. Why had God given her a heart when everything she loved kept getting ripped away?

“Do you want me to give up on Base Camp? Is that what you want? Because if it’s the price of being with you, I’ll do it.”

She heard the desperation in his voice and it cut her to the quick, but what good was his offer if it meant Fulsom would turn the ranch over even sooner to Montague?

“It’s only temporary,” Boone went on. “As soon as the show is over, I’ll marry you again. I’ll wear whatever you want.”

“How could you agree to his demands?” She finally found her voice again.

“I didn’t have a choice. We won’t lose. I swear to you, Riley—I will not let him take Westfield.”

“What else are you hiding, Boone? Tell me everything.” She’d never felt so utterly alone as she did now.

His hesitation terrified her. “Like I said, he’s given us a set of goals.”

“And they’re impossible, is that it? He’s stacked the deck too high against us?”

“No.” He took her hand. “They’re difficult, but not impossible. Fulsom wants ten couples. Ten married couples.”

She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her go.

“We need to build ten sustainable houses that consume a tenth of the power a normal American house does. We can do that easily, Riley. That’s right up my alley.”

“What else?”

“We need to produce enough food on site to last us through the winter.” He stopped. Riley scanned his face.

“That’s it?”

“No,” he said. “There need to be children, too. Pregnancies.”

“Pregnancies.” Her hand slipped to her belly and Riley thought she might be sick. Was that why Boone had made love to her so eagerly that first time—without using a condom? To meet Fulsom’s conditions?

She backed away.

“Riley—”

“More than one?”

“Three.”

“That’s insane!” And it explained Clay and Jericho and their eagerness to get to know her friends.

Boone pursued her, Behemoth trailing behind him. “I never meant for it to be like this. At this point I’d pull out of the deal if I could, but it wouldn’t do any good. The only way I can give you Westfield for keeps is to go through with it. And I need you by my side.”

Riley shook her head. Boone was right; Fulsom had them in a trap. He’d get publicity for his cause, all right. Relationships, marriage, sex and babies? Wasn’t that the fodder for all the popular shows on television? If he could only throw some zombies into the mix he’d probably top the charts.

“Talk to me, Riley. Tell me we can get through this.”

“Stay away from me.” Fulsom had taken over every aspect of her relationship with Boone—from the speed with which Boone had proposed to her, to the timing of having their first child. If she was pregnant, theirs would be one of the three pregnancies that saved Westfield from Montague.

If she was pregnant.

She picked up her skirts again and ran.

“Riley!” A few moments later, the clip clop of Behemoth’s hooves told her Boone was following her. Riley didn’t slow down and she didn’t look back.

When she finally reached Westfield, breathless and exhausted, she slipped inside the manor and went straight up to her room. She had nothing more to say to anyone. The dreams she’d cherished of life at Westfield were well and truly gone.

‡

“T
hey’re still here,”
Jericho said the next morning when he, Boone and Clay gathered around the fire for an early breakfast.

Boone nodded. Telling Riley about Fulsom’s rules was one of the hardest things he’d done. Watching her reaction when he’d done it was even worse. “I’ll be surprised if they stay.”

“It’s shitty Fulsom won’t change his mind.”

“Well, he won’t, so there’s no use dwelling on it.”

“Any new responses to our ad for other participants?” Jericho asked, obviously hoping to turn the conversation.