A SEAL's Oath (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 1) (22 page)

And wet.

She was glad that she wore one of her work dresses because soon she was soaked. She scrubbed diligently until she had gotten all the stains she could out of the first dress and dropped it on a towel she’d spread on the ground. She would rinse them all at once. She picked up the second dress, soaked it in the water and got to work on it. Thank God they’d used easy-to-wash modern cottons and Avery and her friends had taken care to pre-shrink the fabric. She doubted some of the finer dresses Jane Austen and her compatriots wore during the Regency could stand up to this treatment.

By the time she picked out the third work dress she was ready for a break, but her water was cooling and Riley knew she needed to keep going. Avery’s dress had some particularly tough food stains and she knew the aprons would be worse. At least she could add bleach to the water for those. When she lifted a hand out of the water to push back a strand of hair, Riley noticed her knuckles were red. She needed rubber gloves. But Jane wouldn’t have had rubber gloves.

She wouldn’t have been doing her own laundry, either, Riley reasoned. Gloves it was.

“That looks like hot work.”

Riley jumped and looked up to find Boone standing not five feet away.

“You scared me.”

“I’m just about to head to the airport to pick up Clay and Jericho.” He cocked his head. “Everything okay?”

“No. Not really.” She pushed the dress she was cleaning into the water and stood up to ease her back.

“Your washing machine’s broken?”

“It’s non-existent. That’s not the trouble, though. It’s Nora. She’s not happy here. I don’t know if she’ll stay.” She shook her head. “I’m going to miss her like crazy if she goes.”

“She’s ready to pitch in the towel already? You’ve only been here a week.”

“I know.”

“Not everyone’s cut out for simple living,” Boone said.

“It isn’t about simple living.”

“What’s it about?” He drifted closer, examining her pots of water and the pile of soapy clothes on the towel beside her.

“Teaching. Nora’s a teacher. Or she was. She misses it.”

“After a single week?” But Boone didn’t look dismissive. He looked interested. “She must love it.”

“I guess she does. I don’t think I could last a week at her job.” She explained the circumstances of Nora quitting. “I think she’s good at what she does, though. I think it’s eating her up to know that one bad egg ruined it for everyone.”

“Sooner or later there’ll be kids here to teach.”

“I suppose so.” Why did they always stray into such dangerous territory? She knelt down again, plunged her hands into the water, found the dress she’d been washing and got back to work.

“Meanwhile, maybe she could teach locally. I never heard of a teacher getting a death threat here in Chance Creek.”

“Maybe. I’ll suggest that to her. But the idea was she’d write while she was here.” She scrubbed a stubborn spot even harder.

Boone circled around behind her to watch. After a few moments, Riley looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you mind?”

“There are machines that do this, you know.”

She rested her arms on the edge of the pot. “I know. We could have hauled all this into town. I didn’t want to bother James.”

“I mean hand-cranked washing machines.”

“Would Jane Austen have had one?” she quipped.

“I think they came a little later in the century. I’m not sure, though. Want me to look it up? We should probably get one for Base Camp.” He whipped a cell phone out of his pocket.

“No.” Riley got back to work. She wanted him to leave. She was hot and sweaty and her hair was falling out of its bun and she had an overwhelming urge to drop the laundry, hurl herself into his arms and convince him to finally make love to her again.

Boone jabbed at his phone and she pressed her lips together. “I said no,” she burst out when he didn’t stop.

“Why not?”

“It’s not my cell phone time.” God, that sounded lame. She got back to work.

Boone lowered the phone. “You have a specific time for using cell phones?”

“We wanted to ban technology altogether, but there are some things we can’t do without. We decided we each get a half-hour a day for phone calls and Internet access.” When Boone chuckled her irritation grew. “What?”

“You guys are more hard core than we are.”

Was that admiration she heard in his voice? “Don’t you have to get to the airport?”

He checked his watch. “Yep, I’d better get going. Clay and Jericho will be happy to see you. Even happier to see your friends.”

She stopped scrubbing. “They’d better steer clear of my friends.”

Boone backed away. “You hook up with me. Your friends hook up with my friends. Everybody’s happy, right?”

“You’re sick in the head. Tell Clay and Jericho they’re off limits.”

“Where’s my wife?”
Clay asked as they waited at the baggage carousel at the Chance Creek Regional Airport. Boone had just finished detailing the events of the previous week.

“I’ve picked her out for you. Unfortunately Riley has drawn a pretty deep line in the sand and your future mate is on the other side.”

“You’ll have to sweet talk her into changing her mind,” Jericho said. “After all, she’ll be promising to obey you within the month, right?”

“I highly doubt that phrase will be in our marriage vows.”

“What are her friends like?” Clay asked.

Boone kept his eyes on the moving belt. “Two of them are candidates. Savannah is musical and loves the life they’re building here. Clay, I think she’ll do for you. Avery is sweet and has aspirations to be an actress. She seems fun-loving and dedicated; I think she’s a match for Jericho.”

“What about the other one? You said there were three,” Jericho pointed out.

“Nora?” Boone shook his head. “Sounds like she might fly the coop soon.” He detailed the conversation he’d had with Riley that afternoon.

“Hand-washing the laundry? That’s hard-core.” Clay lunged suddenly and grabbed a bag. “This one’s mine. There should be another one. Wait… there it is.” He grabbed it, too.

“That’s what I told Riley. It’s uncanny the way these women have almost reproduced the same rules that we have—and downright aggravating they won’t give up a couple of things that would put them right in line with us. We could join forces right now and just get on with it, but they’re obsessed with these dresses and parties and art and music and…”

“…all the things that make life worth living?” Clay said.

Boone frowned. “Don’t you start.”

“You’ve got to lighten up a little, Boone.” Jericho reached for a bag and picked it up off the carousel.

“Lighten up? I have to be married within the month. Then we need to hit the ground running when the cameras arrive. We don’t have time to fool around with music and art.”

“We can’t work all the time.” Jericho dropped his bag on the floor and held up his hands when Boone turned on him. “All I’m saying is that you’ve probably scared Riley off with that attitude. Why not give a little to get a little?”

“I don’t want to operate on false pretenses.”

“Hold on. Are you saying there’s no room for fun in our community… ever?” Clay asked.

“Of course there is, but right now we need to focus, and even though Riley’s agreed to marry me, she’s shown no real interest in Base Camp. I think—” He broke off. “Wait a minute, that’s Nora—right there. The one I said might fly the coop.” He pointed across the terminal to where she was gazing at a monitor that showed arrivals and departures, her light brown hair scooped up into a messy bun. She’d exchanged her Regency gown for a pair of jeans, knee-high leather boots and a cream-colored shirt. Boone could have sworn Riley had said they’d burned all their twenty-first century duds, but Nora must have kept a stash. Maybe she’d never meant to stay.

Boone couldn’t let her leave. “Come on.” He strode across the hall toward her. “Nora? Everything all right?”

Nora jumped, guilt glinting in her eyes when she took him in. “Boone, what are you doing here? Did Riley send you after me?”

“No. I’m here to pick up my friends. Clay Pickett, Jericho Cook, this is Nora Ridgeway. Nora’s a teacher. Nora, meet Clay and Jericho. They grew up around here and served with me in the SEALs.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nora murmured. She sent a furtive glance toward the departures board.

“You catching a plane somewhere?” Clay set down his bags, shook her hand, and held onto it. Jericho waited for his turn, his hand half raised, but after a moment he let it fall again. Nora didn’t notice.

“I… think so. You won’t tell Riley you saw me here, will you? I need a head start.” She extricated her hand from Clay’s.

“Riley said you miss teaching a lot. Are you going back?”

She nodded. “I have to. I’m not used to being a quitter. I was helping those kids. Some of them, anyway.”

“Sounds like it was a pretty rough situation, though.” All Boone could think to do was delay Nora. He knew Riley would be devastated if her friend gave up on Westfield, and if Nora left, what would the others do? If Savannah and Avery quit, too, Riley would have no reason to stay on the ranch.

No reason to marry him, either.

“It was.” Her indecision was all too clear. Boone wondered if he could capitalize on it, but Clay beat him to the punch.

“Aren’t you going to miss your friends if you leave?” he asked.

Nora glanced back up at the monitor, but nodded. “Definitely. I missed them for years when we all lived in different places. No one else I know is quite like Riley and the others. I know they think I hold back a lot—that maybe I’m not as into the group thing as they are, but they’re wrong.”

“Maybe there’s a compromise,” Clay suggested. “What if you found a teaching job in Chance Creek?”

Nora bit her lip. “I’ve looked. There’s nothing suitable. And what about the kids I left behind?”

“Won’t they already have a new teacher? It seems pretty disruptive to change things a second time. I had a teacher go on maternity leave one year when I was a kid. It shook everything up when the new teacher came in. Then, just when we got used to her, the first one came back. Talk about confusion.”

Boone had to hand it to him, Clay was thinking on his feet.

“Riley and the others are going to be pretty upset if you leave,” Boone added. He touched her arm. “Maybe you should give Westfield another chance. What do you think? At least until you know for sure what you want to do next?”

He held his breath waiting for her answer. He had a feeling Clay was, too. His friend couldn’t keep his eyes off of Nora. So much for pairing him with Savannah.

“Why do you care what I do?”

That was the Nora Boone recognized. He held his breath, wondering how Clay would react.

“For purely selfish reasons.” Clay flashed her a thousand-watt smile. “I’m about to live in close quarters with three other guys. Cut me a break if I’m hungry for a glimpse of a pretty woman now and then.”

Nora rolled her eyes, but a smile quirked her lips too. “Maybe you’re right. It would be stupid to run away. I should at least talk to the others first.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re caught in a tough situation,” Clay said softly. He took the suitcase from Nora’s hand. “Come on, we’ll take you home. You can use me as a sounding board. Maybe I can help.”

“Thanks.”

Boone breathed a sigh of relief as he picked up the bags that Clay had left behind. Jericho fell in beside him and they followed them out to his truck.

Disaster averted.

For now.

As hard as
the work had been, Riley felt a sense of real accomplishment when she stood back and gazed at a week’s worth of their clothing and linens hanging on the long clothesline that stretched between two stout wooden posts in the side yard. Her hands were cramped and red, her work dress soaked, and her hair hung in damp tendrils around her face, but she’d done it.

She wondered if Nora was feeling any better. Riley certainly hoped so—nothing would be the same if she gave up and left.

She turned a suspicious eye toward the west where some innocent looking white cumulous clouds had taken on a darker hue. If rain threatened, she’d have to move all the damp clothing inside and hang it down in the basement. They’d cleaned the space, but it was still dank and a little frightening. She didn’t look forward to moving the heavy wet laundry and hoped the rain would hold off.

Something else caught her eye when she headed back to the fire and the heavy pots of water sitting near it. Puffs of dirt far off told her some vehicle was moving down the driveway toward her. Boone back from the airport. She didn’t want any of the men to see her like this. Instead of tipping over the pots and cleaning up her mess, she hurried into the house and up the stairs to her room. She was struggling out of her wet dress when Savannah found her.

“Need help?” She asked with a laugh.

“Yes. Hurry!”

“Why?” She helped tug the dress over Riley’s head.

Riley bit her lip. She didn’t want to say, but Savannah went on. “Let me guess. Boone’s coming?”

“I’m not doing this for Boone.”

“Of course not.”

Riley knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. She appreciated that Savannah didn’t tease her about it. She fetched the dress she wanted from the closet and Savannah helped pull it over her head. She did up the fastenings and patted Riley’s shoulder. “Do your hair, quick. I’ll run down and greet him.”

“He’s bringing friends home from the airport.”

“More Navy SEALs? I’m on my way!”

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