A SEAL's Vow (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 2) (11 page)

Apparently his dad needed to be close to him.

After Dell had placed his suitcase in his tent, he’d roamed Base Camp, poking his nose into the various projects just getting underway and offering his unsolicited opinion in that gruff, no-nonsense tone he had until Clay had been goaded to use his mother’s old distraction technique when he noticed a cameraman trailing Dell intently. It would be too easy for Renata’s minions to make his father a laughingstock on the show in his present condition. Clay had quickly composed a list, included an item or two he didn’t think it possible to find in Chance Creek, and passed it to his father. Dell had brightened, just like in the old days, and made a beeline for his truck.

All too conscious of the fuel he was wasting in exchange for some peace and quiet, Clay had gotten some work done before he returned, but not as much as he’d hoped. Meanwhile, Nora was on his mind. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and get four. Nora’s hesitance—and the way she’d clouted him with that paperweight—could only mean one of two things. Either she really, truly disliked him, or she’d been spooked badly by the man who’d stalked her, and she’d overreacted when Clay had surprised her. Clay was beginning to understand that in his haste to get Nora to the altar, he’d vastly underestimated how much her stalker had spooked her, and his urge to steal a kiss had only made things worse. His only consolation was that she’d welcomed his kisses at the wedding, even though he’d frightened her badly only a few mornings before. His advances weren’t the real problem; the television show was. Clay could understand that. Before, she’d felt anonymous here in Chance Creek. Now her location would be broadcast to the world. No wonder she was anxious. If he wanted any chance with her, he needed to soothe those fears.

In Clay’s mind, spending more time with Nora was the obvious solution. He was a Navy SEAL, after all. He could be her bodyguard. Unfortunately he could predict her reaction to that. She’d say he was only motivated by Fulsom’s deadlines, and his unwanted attentions would end up making her feel less safe, not more. All day long his problems twisted and turned in his brain, and by the time he went to bed, they’d created so many knots he couldn’t unravel them.

He must have drifted off to sleep at some point, though, because when Clay woke up again he found sunlight shining on his tent. He’d overslept. A series of shudders in the canvas around him alerted him that Dell was awake and moving about in his tent. Clay figured he’d better get up, too. His one shot was his date with Nora tonight. It had to go off smoothly.

Clay sat up, groaned at his throbbing temple, touched the sore spot and winced. First he needed to apologize, then he needed to make sure they were still on track for tonight. He’d do that now, before the filming started.

When he met up with Dell and the other men at the morning campfire, however, he got a taste of things to come. For one thing, the cameras were everywhere. It was later than he’d judged it to be—no time to go and talk to Nora now. For another, Dell was already riling up the other men in that inimitable way he had.

“Whoever made this coffee needs to learn how to do it right,” Dell was saying to Jericho when he reached them. His father went on to explain a complicated process that had Jericho giving him the side-eye. Clay hastened to step in.

“Dad. What are your plans today? Do you have any interviews lined up?”

With an uneasy glance toward Jericho, Dell edged away from the fire. “I already told you, I contacted the employers around here. No one’s hiring.”

“You’ll have to find work somewhere. Are you sure you can’t convince Mr. Silverton to take you back?”

“I wouldn’t go back,” Dell snarled. “I don’t need his money.”

Clay pulled him farther aside as the camera crew closed in again, hoping to conduct this conversation in private, but Ed broke off from the others and followed them. “Look,” Clay said in a low voice. “You need
someone’s
money.”

“Looks like there’s plenty of work here. Half this crew are loafers—you can tell by the way they—”

“Dad, these are hand-picked men. All ex-military. Show some respect.” His tone had grown sharper than he’d meant it to. Dell puffed up like a rooster, and Clay knew he had to head him off. “This isn’t a paid gig,” he continued. “We’re getting room and board, such as it is. Our materials and food are covered. Once we’ve got our community up and running, we’ll have to figure out how to make it profitable. A big part of that will be ranching. You’ve never liked that.”

“Ranching. Fat lot of good that’ll do you.”

Clay knew his father hated ranching for two reasons. First, because his old man had wanted him to take up the family business, something Dell refused to do. Second, because he was only two years into the architecture degree he’d wanted so badly when his parents lost their ranch in a combination of bad practices and worse luck. Dell had to quit school and go to work to help them out as they sold off the property and struggled to cover their debts. He’d gone straight into construction, and never made it back to finish his degree. Despite his temper, he’d done well for himself over the years—until recently. As cussed as he was, he was a good worker. Clay doubted he had enough saved for the future to retire now, though.

“You’re telling me you’re not getting any money for this?” Dell demanded.

“Not yet.” Clay was all too aware of Ed filming their conversation. “Anyway, I can put you to work today just for something to do, but it won’t be paid. You need to look for a job.”

“I’ll check the listings.” Dell stalked off, but all too soon he was back at Clay’s side on the building site.

“Nothing new,” he said tersely, which meant Clay spent his day finding tasks for him to do around Base Camp instead of finding a way to patch things up with Nora. When he noticed Walker walk past and head up toward the manor, an ugly streak of jealousy surged through him. Was he going to see Avery?

Or Nora?

“Job’s yours,” Walker
said when Nora opened the front door to the manor and found him on the steps. Dressed in her work gown, a large white apron covering most of it, she had been cleaning the first-floor bathroom when he’d arrived. Savannah was upstairs making up the bedrooms. Avery and Riley had gone down to Base Camp to consult with Boone about plans to make the manor more energy efficient.

“What does that mean?” She stood back to let him come in, but though he stepped into the doorway, he didn’t come in any farther. Behind him she could see a camera crew waiting to come inside and film the proceedings. She was sure he knew they were there, but he didn’t acknowledge them.

“My grandmother will come by tomorrow after school.”

“Doesn’t she want to interview me before hiring me for the job?”

Behind Walker, a cameraman Nora thought was named Craig Demaris cleared his throat.

Walker shook his head, keeping his position.

“What about references—does she want a list of them to call?”

He shook his head again.

Nora eyed him. This wasn’t the way things were done in Baltimore. “She doesn’t even know if I am who I say I am!”

Craig cleared his throat again. “Walker? You’ll have to move, buddy.”

Walker ignored him. “Got some ID?” He leaned against the doorjamb and waited as if he expected her to fetch it.

“Yes. Upstairs.” That was more like it. With a copy of her ID, at least his grandmother could verify a few things. Nora liked everything to be done by the book. This loosey-goosey way of hiring made her nervous. She climbed the two flights to her room to fetch her purse. Downstairs again, slightly out of breath, she pulled out her driver’s license. Walker looked it over. Handed it back.

“Good.”

Nora blinked. He couldn’t be serious. Wasn’t he going to photocopy it or something—?

Wait. Had the corner of his mouth hitched up a fraction of an inch, just for a second? Was Walker… teasing her?

No, she decided. Not him. Although…

No.

“That can’t be it,” she exclaimed, disconcerted by this whole situation. “This isn’t any way to hire a person.”

“Walker!” Craig said. “Let us in, man.”

“This is Chance Creek.” Walker seemed to think that explanation enough. “Three o’clock. Be ready.”

Three o’clock was right in the middle of her writing time. There wasn’t anything for it, of course. She wanted the job. She’d have to write in the evenings. If Walker’s grandmother left by five, she’d be on time for dinner down at Base Camp, anyway. She knew Renata would have things to say if she was late.

Nora looked down at her dress. “She’s going to think I’m pretty strange.”

“For fuck’s sake, Walker—” Craig said.

“It’ll be fine.” Walker turned to go.

“I’ll be ready,” she called out as he walked slowly down the stairs. He didn’t bother to reply. Craig and the others trailed after him as he went, the cameraman berating Walker. Walker kept going, as stoic as ever.

Nora shut the door, re-examining her feelings about taking this on. Here she’d finally gotten the opportunity to really give writing a go, and she was allowing a new responsibility to take a chunk out of her day. Was she sabotaging herself?

More like distracting herself, she decided. It was a project she could sink her teeth into. Maybe then she’d forget the anxiety twisting her innards into knots.

Besides, it was only temporary. She’d write up the curriculum under Walker’s grandmother’s tutelage, then return to her Jane Austen life.

Savannah cleared her throat behind Nora, and Nora spun around, startled. “Savannah! You scared me.”

“Sorry. I just finished the bedrooms.” She waved behind her to indicate the stairs. “Did I just hear you accept a job, Nora Ridgeway?”

Nora nodded, guilt flooding her cheeks with heat. She’d hoped to have time to craft an explanation that would make up for her breaking her vow. “It’s education-related—” She squeaked when Savannah hugged her. “What’s that for?”

“I know how much you miss teaching, so if you’ve found something that makes you happy, then I’m glad. Above everything else, we want you to stay here. Write if that makes you happy. Teach, whatever. Just… stay.”

For the first time in twenty-four hours, Nora smiled. She hugged Savannah back impulsively.

“Are you busy right now?” Savannah asked.

“Not really. I need to finish up the bathrooms, but—”

“I’m going stir crazy. I’d… like a new dress.” She blushed a little when Nora raised an eyebrow. “I know, I know, we’re supposed to be economizing, but I’m feeling frivolous. Is that really so bad?”

Nora shook her head, taking in the circles under Savannah’s eyes. Wrapped up in her own cares, had she missed something? Savannah didn’t look like she was sleeping well. “Of course not.” She wondered if this was about Jericho.

“Should I call James Russell or a taxi?” Savannah was keeper of the cell phone today and she pulled it out of her pocket.

“James.” Nora could use a carriage ride right about now. The slower pace suited her mood.

As usual, James was all too pleased to have an excuse to get out his horses, and in less than half an hour he was climbing down from his high seat to greet them and help them into the carriage. Nora swore the man would drive all over Montana in his barouche if he could.

“Cameras. Twelve o’clock,” Savannah said suddenly. Nora sighed when she turned and saw the crew hastening up the hill to catch up with them.

“Wherever you’re going, we’re coming, too,” William said, puffing with the exertion.

“Not in my barouche.” James straightened to his full height, and almost managed to look intimidating in his old-fashioned waistcoat, but Savannah put a hand on his arm.

“It’s all right.”

“Are you sure, my dear? I think the way these people are hounding you is deplorable.”

“It’s fine.”

Nora didn’t agree, but there wasn’t anything for it. William, Byron and a young female crew member she didn’t know climbed carefully into the barouche, trying to keep their equipment steady. Nora and Savannah got in after them. Nora knew they were filming the ride, but she and Savannah both made a big deal of looking at the scenery rather than talking. She suspected this particular footage wouldn’t make it into the show.

James took them to the Reed place, a large spread east of Chance Creek, where Alice Reed, an expert seamstress, lived. Nora relaxed a little along the way, despite the camera crew. She was blowing things out of proportion over this job. It was temporary. It was only two hours a day. She’d still have plenty of time to write.

“I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up,” James said when he deposited all of them in front of Two Willows, the big, old white farmhouse where the Reed sisters lived.

“Thank you,” Nora said, and she and Savannah waved as he clucked to the horses and drove off.

“It’s such a civilized manner of transportation,” Savannah said. “Don’t you agree?”

Nora shrugged. “As long as someone else is driving. Those horses scare me.”

“Me, too, although I think we’re going to have to get over that.”

Alice was waiting for them on the porch. “Come on in. I expected you a half-hour ago.”

“I was so desperate to get out of the house, I didn’t even call to warn you we were coming,” Savannah said with a laugh. “I figured we’d visit with one of your sisters if you were out. I’m sorry about our entourage.” She waved a hand at the crew following close behind them.

“Did James call to let you know?” Nora asked Alice.

Alice shook her head. “Just had a hunch you’d be by.” She led the way inside as Nora exchanged a look with Savannah. Savannah shrugged, and Nora decided to let it go. Alice was a dreamy young woman Nora thought belonged in a fairy-tale illustration. Her long hair was always half braided, half coming undone, and no matter what she wore she couldn’t hide her beautiful figure and regal bearing. She was like a princess caught in a spell. Nora wondered if a prince would ever come along and spring her from her enchantment.

Nora hadn’t been to Two Willows before. Previously, Alice had come to them when they needed dresses. It was an old house with a generous front porch and large rooms. Like their home, the kitchen was at the back. Alice led the way and sat them at a large wooden table Nora thought must have been there for a century at least. The crew took their time taking shots of the house and Alice.