A SEAL's Vow (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 2) (24 page)

A sharp rap on the kitchen door startled them. Avery went to open it, and Win bustled in. Nora was sure she wasn’t the only one relieved by the interruption.

“What’s going on? Are we planning a coup?” she asked when she got inside.

“Not quite,” Nora said. “From the sound of things, the cavalry’s coming to help the other side.”

“Cavalry?” Win looked from one to the other of them for an explanation.

“Boone’s bringing in more women,” Riley told her.

“Competition,” Avery said sourly.

“They’re only competition if you’re in the game.” Win shrugged. “I thought you three said you weren’t interested.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Riley said tactfully. Win had proved to be much more friendly and fun than she’d seemed when she first got to Westfield, but none of them had quite relaxed enough around her to let her into their confidences.

“No, it’s not,” Win said. “When you see something you want, you go for it. At least, that’s how I like to do things.”

“Has Angus proposed yet?” Avery challenged her.

Nora bit back a smile.

“No, he hasn’t. Because I’ve told him he can’t yet. I want a real, old-fashioned courtship. He’s taking me on a picnic tonight.”

“With his father or without?” Nora asked dryly, mindful of how her picnic with Clay had turned out.

Avery coughed. Win gave Nora a puzzled look. “Without, I expect, since his father passed away last year.”

Nora closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She didn’t bother to finish the statement. She didn’t know what she was. Annoyed? Discouraged?

Confused?

She didn’t like the idea of more women at Base Camp, especially ones who might want to hook up with Clay. As hesitant as she was to marry him, she didn’t want Clay to marry someone else. Not after the last few days.

“Let’s eat our lunch and get to our projects,” Riley suggested.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Win asked. “Sometimes it’s nice to be with other women.”

“Not at all,” Riley said.

Avery laid another plate on the table. Nora felt a tinge of guilt that they didn’t include Win more in their activities, but it had seemed that all she wanted was to be with Angus. She brought the large bowl of salad to the table and set it in the middle. “Dig in. We’ve got some French bread, too, if anyone needs something more substantial.”

They kept the conversation general, and soon the meal was over. The women cleaned up together and then dispersed, Avery and Savannah to the parlor, Win out the back door to return to Base Camp. Riley came to stand near Nora, who was putting the last of the dishes away. She touched Nora’s sleeve. “You know I’d never judge you for jumping in head-first with Clay, right? I think you two have a real chance at a wonderful marriage. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Nora. That man is in love with you. If you have to marry fast, maybe it’s better to do that than to always wonder what might have happened if you don’t.”

Nora nodded. “Maybe. He wants to go back to school,” she added.

“Right away?”

Nora shook her head. “After the show’s over, I suppose. I know he wouldn’t do anything to disrupt that.”

“Clay’s a man who wants to make a better future, isn’t he?” Riley mused. “Seems to me you could do worse.”

‡

A
s the house
neared completion, Clay’s thoughts strayed to his father again. It still burned him that Dell had walked away in anger when he’d told him his plans. He never wanted to end up as bitter or frustrated with his career as his dad was, and it worried him a little what would happen after the houses were built. One part of building a sustainable community was that the members of the community needed ways to bring in an income. The bison herd they would establish would help with that; bison was a luxury meat, and the herd Jake Matheson was partnering with Evan Mortimer to run had already found solid markets. Clay didn’t mind helping with that business, but it didn’t call him the way architecture did. He wanted to bring his flavor of eco-conscious housing to a wider audience. That meant school.

It bothered him now that he’d never made the effort before. Hell, Walker had done just fine when he went for his bachelor’s degree, and he’d come from the same kind of working-class background Clay had. Still, every time Clay had thought about taking the Navy up on the options it offered, Dell’s voice had always echoed through his mind.
“That’s not for the likes of us.”

Why did Dell still believe that?

“Did you ever want to go to college?” Clay asked Boone. He passed his friend handles one by one and Boone screwed them into each of the little cabinet doors. He was trying to let Boone do as much as he could to finish off the project. He knew it would mean a lot to Riley to know her husband had worked on some of the final touches.

Boone shook his head. “Not really. You know me—I like to do things, not study them.”

“Yeah.” But some things required a degree.

“You thinking about school?”

Clay nodded. “I won’t screw up anything with Base Camp, but yeah. It’s time.” He held a piece of edging in place while Boone screwed it in.

“I’ll say.”

When Clay looked up in surprise, Boone went on. “I always wondered why you stuck with the SEALs so long. You’re meant to build things. Anyone who knows you can see that.”

Clay positioned another piece of wood. “I think we could all say that. That’s why we’re here, right?”

“I think every life has more than one story to it, but it’s funny how a theme runs through all of them,” Boone said. “We walked through our story about serving our country through our military service. Now we’re in our story about serving our country through demonstrating a sustainable life.”

“That’s fucking poetic, Chief.”

Boone laughed. “Yeah. Shit, time to install a composting toilet or something, before I start writing sonnets.”

“Speaking of composting toilets, want to help me install yours?”

“Hell, yeah.”

As he and Boone unboxed the toilet and wrestled it into place in the tiny bathroom, he felt like he’d truly accomplished something. In no time at all, this house would be a real home.

“Looks good,” Boone said when they were done.

“Think Riley will be okay with it?”

“She’s been using the ones around camp, and she says she’ll adapt.” He scratched his head. “I wouldn’t say she’s thrilled about it, but she’s being a good sport. I figure I’d better keep her happy in other ways. Some of this sustainability stuff stacks the odds against me, if you know what I mean.”

Clay definitely did. It would be far easier to woo Nora with a house like the manor than with a small, eco-conscious building like this one.

“Nora will come around,” Boone said, as if reading his thoughts.

“I sure hope so.” Clay stood back and nodded. “We’re about done. Want to let Riley see the place?”

“Sure do! I’ll go get her.”

Boone was off in a flash. Clay gathered up their tools and stowed them away, wishing suddenly they’d taken more time to clean up. But the house would speak for itself. Either Riley would love it, or she wouldn’t.

He wondered what Nora’s reaction would be. Fifteen minutes later, he watched with pride as Boone scooped Riley into his arms and carried her carefully across the threshold into their brand-new tiny home.

Just like his original drawings had shown, the home looked like it was growing straight out of the hillside. There hadn’t been enough time for its green roof to sprout, but it would soon, which would only heighten the illusion that it was an organic structure rather than a man-made one. The south-facing exterior wall was an earthy stucco color to absorb sunlight and hold it in colder months. The overhang of the roof and the thick sod on top of it would shelter the structure from the hot days of summer and the bitter cold of winter. Large windows would let in plenty of sunlight, and a gorgeous, hand-hewn door allowed access into the interior.

Inside, the wooden walls and floors gave the house a cabin-like feel. The space was small but built-in shelves and cupboards everywhere provided plenty of storage. Unlike someone living in a typical single family home in suburbia, Boone and Riley didn’t need storage for their own lawnmower, power tools, snow blower and the like. They would share larger tools and machines like that with the community and store them in the barns and outbuildings.

Everyone took turns parading through the small house to see the end product, oohing and aahing over it. Even Dell turned up and walked through. Clay wished he knew what his father really thought of the tiny house, but he was a little relieved when Dell didn’t say anything.

But when Nora took her turn he found himself pacing until she’d gone in, looked around and finally come back out again.

“Well, what do you think?” Riley asked her excitedly.

“It’s beautiful,” Nora said. “I think you’ll be very happy there.”

“I know I will!” Riley threw her arms around Nora’s neck.

“It’s Clay you should be hugging,” Nora told her. “He’s the one who built it.”

“I had some help. Including your husband,” Clay said to Riley.

“I’ll hug everyone then!” And Riley did. Clay relaxed. He’d done it. And Nora liked the home he’d built. That meant more to him than anything else.

Jericho clapped him on the shoulder. “Only nine more to go.”

“We’ve already started the next one.”

When Sue arrived
that afternoon, Nora was happily waiting for her. So far in their planning sessions, they’d worked to define the scope of the project, and Nora knew Sue wanted textbooks for every grade—and in every subject. They’d agreed to start with the seventh grade Social Studies textbook aimed for use on the reservation, and go from there.

“Why seventh grade?” Nora had asked.

“It’s a transition year,” Sue had said. “Around twelve or thirteen, children make a decision about who they’re going to be. I want them thinking about their culture and people then. We’ll start small and build.” Nora didn’t doubt that Sue could move mountains if she wanted to, and she was grateful to be part of the project.

Today, however, it was clear from the start Sue was in a sour mood.

“Just trouble,” she said when Nora let her into the manor and led her to the kitchen. “That’s what you are, aren’t you?” The lines that framed her mouth were cut deeper than usual. “I should have known.”

“Known what?” Nora didn’t understand what Sue meant. She gestured for her to take a seat at the kitchen table, as usual, but Sue stayed standing.

“That you’d come here and make problems for us. The lot of you.”

Nora felt like she’d lost all bearing in their conversation, but before she could protest, Sue continued. “That… Avery.” She spit out the name. “She isn’t the one for my grandson. He’s been promised.”

“Avery?” Nora tried to keep up. Was she talking about Avery’s crush on Walker? How on earth did she know about that?

Sue clutched the notebooks she held in her arms like a shield against Nora’s perfidy. “I heard all about what she’d doing. My nephew saw it with his own eyes.”

“Who is your nephew?” Nora felt she owed it to Avery to get to the bottom of the matter, no matter how awkward this conversation was.

“Tom Norton. He works at the lumberyard in Chance Creek. He brought a delivery to this ranch. He saw.” Sue leaned in close to make her point.

A number of trucks had been in and out of Base Camp over the past few weeks. Nora supposed Tom could be one of the men who’d brought supplies. Clay was determined to use locally sourced wood whenever possible, she’d learned from working with him in the mornings. They hadn’t had time to cut down trees from their own property and age them, but he’d found local suppliers he’d deemed the best alternative.

“I don’t know what Tom saw, and even if I did it wouldn’t be my business. Walker is a grown man. He can do what he likes, can’t he?” All she wanted was to sit down and talk about curriculum again. She wasn’t used to discussing her friends’ private lives with strangers. Especially not with someone as fierce as Sue.

“He’s promised,” Sue reiterated. “So tell her hands off. We won’t work today.” She retreated as quickly as she’d come, slamming the front door and driving off in her small silver car before Nora could catch up with her. Nora locked the door reflexively and peered out the parlor window after her, watching dust rise along the track with a sinking feeling. Was their project over—when it had only just begun?

She retreated into the parlor and sat on the sofa, flummoxed. What did Sue mean when she said Walker was promised? Was she talking about an arranged marriage?

Did Native Americans do that kind of thing?

Whatever she meant, it spelled trouble for Avery, and that was the last thing her friend needed. Avery wasn’t reserved like she was. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and she threw herself headlong into her passions. She’d be too easy to tear down and stomp on. Nora had a feeling Sue was the opposite: tough, no-nonsense and willing to do whatever it took to protect her grandson.

Not that Walker needed protecting.

Walker could take care of himself. It was Avery she was worried about.