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SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style

Page 45

by Sharon Hamilton


  “I bet you will.”

  When he mock growled at her, she shrieked and ran away. Mason gave chase, hooked her around the waist and toppled her to the ground, cushioning her fall, but straddling her just the same when she was down.

  “Now I’ve got you.”

  “Yes, you have,” she agreed happily. When he bent to ravish her, she gave herself up to it willingly and ten minutes later she was breathless, her clothing awry and her heart pounding. No one had ever affected her like Mason did. Whenever he was close, every nerve in her body came alive, longing for him. She wouldn’t stay long in town. Not with Mason waiting for her back at home. Not with a whole night ahead of them.

  Or as much of a night as they could stay awake for.

  Back at the hall, she took his advice, setting the alarm on her cell phone and lying down to rest after her shower. It was lucky she had the foresight to do so, because she was fast asleep on their new bed when it went off.

  In town she easily located Linda’s Diner, and when she went indoors, Emma was already there. She had a folder of paperwork in front of her that she slid across to Regan as soon as she sat down. A waitress appeared and took Regan’s order, bringing her a cup of tea a moment later. Regan refused the offer of a slice of pie and opened the folder to take a look.

  “Wow—a bakery?” she asked Emma when she’d scanned the first page. Emma nodded vigorously. “Have you ever managed a bakery before?”

  “Yes—all through college, actually. I started out working the counter at a coffee shop in Billings where I went to school, but as soon as they figured out I’d show up to work at three-thirty in the morning consistently if that meant I could bake, they handed the whole operation over to me. I learned how to order supplies and set a menu. I know how to run the equipment and I’ve done all the food safety courses.”

  “That all sounds great. How much do you have for a deposit?”

  Emma told her how much she’d saved, the cost of the building she wanted and the estimate of her expenses for the first year. Regan quickly realized her numbers were right on the edge of acceptable. If she had any problems she might be in trouble.

  “Do you think I should have waited until I had more money?” Emma asked in a small voice. “I know I’m cutting it thin.”

  “It would help if you had an emergency fund.” Regan flipped through the paperwork again. “Wait a minute—the apartment above the shop has three bedrooms.”

  Emma nodded. “So?”

  “So what about rental income? Do you have any friends who would move in with you? You could charge each of them two hundred and fifty dollars a month, and that extra five hundred a month could help pay your mortgage.”

  “I didn’t even think of that.”

  They went over all Emma’s numbers again, one at a time, and Regan was able to show her several adjustments that made her bottom line look more solid to the bank. At the end of their meeting, Emma was thrilled.

  “That was so helpful. I feel like I have a shot now.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Regan beamed at the compliment. “Good luck with your appointment. You’ll have to let me know what happens.”

  “I will. Hey, I have a friend who’s buying out an existing business and I know she could use some help, too. She wants to make some changes in the way they do things, so she needs to make a budget and find out how much she can spend up front. Could you help her with that?”

  “Sure. Just have her call.” Regan jotted down her cell phone number on a napkin.

  Emma took it uncertainly. “You need to get some business cards made up.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “I do. Get some made so I can spread the word about you. How are things going on the ranch?” She seemed more at ease now that they’d gone over her paperwork.

  Regan wasn’t sure how much to tell her. “I love the Hall, and I like working with Mason, but…”

  “But what?”

  “He’s really worried. I’m sure you’ve heard about his uncle’s debts.”

  Emma nodded. “I think everyone has.”

  “Well, it’s just killing Mason. He’s so proud he can’t bear to have anyone think ill of him or his family. He wants to make sure he pays off every cent Zeke owes. Meanwhile, we’re doing the best we can to fix the place up, but it’s just the two of us.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s slow going.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Regan decided it was time to turn the conversation to lighter topics and she didn’t stay much longer, although she enjoyed the chance to chat with another woman. As she drove home, fighting to stay awake, she wondered if Emma was right. Maybe she had the start of a new business in her hands—one she could run right from the ranch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‡

  By the time they were ready to tackle the pasture fencing a week later, Mason’s worry had grown dangerously close to panic. He was pushing himself as hard as he could and there were still items on his checklist each day that didn’t get done. Gone were the early morning lovemaking sessions with Regan. They got up as soon as the alarm went off. When it got dark, he brought Regan home over her protestations, ate a quick dinner with her, then went back out to accomplish anything else that could be done by flashlight. He showered and stumbled into bed when he simply couldn’t move anymore, then got up to do it again the next day. Hardly twenty-four hours went by that he wasn’t made aware of another of Zeke’s debts. He’d paid the grocery store, the liquor store, several doctors and a dentist, a number of Zeke’s friends, the fish and tackle store, and a grizzled old man who apparently kept Zeke’s truck running. This wasn’t the introduction to ranch life he’d wanted for Regan, but she was being a great sport. He tried to do everything he could to show her his appreciation. She was a great sport about that as well.

  Still, if they didn’t get a move on, they would lose this chance to inherit the ranch. If only Austin could get home sooner, they’d be able to work at twice the pace. Regan was amazing, but she struggled to keep up with him. Zeke’s damn debts had put him in an untenable position—a work party or two would have given him a leg up on his lists, but with only Regan to help him, he was losing ground fast.

  He knew they’d have to do the best they could and trust that things would work out. He’d thought about asking Heloise to back off on her outrageous deadlines. Instinct told him not to do so, however. He was in her favor now, but she could just as easily change her mind and leave the Hall to Darren or one of his kids. At the end of the day, Mason didn’t care about the money—he cared about the land.

  Which was all well and good, except he needed more money. Which meant another uncomfortable call to his brothers. While Regan puttered in the kitchen getting her breakfast, he set up his laptop in the bedroom so she wouldn’t hear the gist of their conversation. They’d gotten an internet connection installed to the Hall finally, so at least he no longer needed to run to town. When all three of his brothers were connected, he gave them an update on the state of things.

  “This could bankrupt us, you know,” Zane said when he was done.

  “Heloise said she’d return the money to us if we failed to get the ranch up and running. Eventually.” He didn’t mention the circumstances in which they’d get it.

  “Meanwhile, we’ll have given everything we’ve got to the place and Darren will make off with it in the end.”

  “It isn’t going to come to that. Not if each of us does what he’s supposed to do.”

  No one answered that and Mason could see that none of them had made any progress on finding a wife. “For God’s sake, if I can find a woman the rest of you can, too.”

  “Do you know how I’m spending my days?” Austin said, his face filling the screen. “Getting shot at. In case you forgot, the three of us are still fighting for our country while you romp in the hay with your girlfriend.”

  “I’m not romping.” Not as often as he wanted to, anyway. “Besides, Colt’s not fighting for his count
ry. He’s in Florida, for crying out loud. There’s all kinds of women in Florida.”

  “Not any I want to marry.” Colt drawled out his words.

  “Are you going to send the damn money or not?” Mason had had enough of the conversation.

  “We’ll send it.” Austin’s tone was still hard. “But you’d better watch every penny and you’d better hold up your end. Just because you’ve got a girl playing house with you in the Hall doesn’t mean you’re any closer to marriage than we are. And you’re no damn closer to having a baby. If you don’t step it up, then we’re throwing our cash down a rathole!”

  “Are you calling the Hall a rathole?”

  Austin cut the connection.

  “You’d better back off, Mason.” Zane was giving him a hard look. “Things are pretty tense over here just now. Austin’s unit has had it tough.”

  “Well it ain’t no picnic here, either.”

  “No one’s shooting at you, are they?” That was Colt.

  “No.” Of course not. They were right—he was blowing this out of proportion. He didn’t seem to be able to keep things in proportion these days.

  “Look, I know you’re carrying the brunt of Heloise’s craziness. I know it’s tough—you love that place, just like I do.” Zane held his gaze. “So get the mission done. Whatever it takes.”

  Mason nodded, shame welling up in his chest, an uncomfortable feeling he wasn’t used to. His brothers were right; he was panicking like a raw recruit. He could get this done. He had to. “You’re right. I’ll handle it. You guys just stay safe and get on home. With wives.”

  He cut the connection, too.

  Two hours later, after another trip to town, he and Regan set out with spools of wire and all the tools they’d need in the back of the truck he’d bought second-hand from a dealership in town. They’d spent the previous day shoring up the fence posts. Today they had to attach the wire. They could have walked to the closest pasture, but by the end of the day they’d cover a lot of ground and the spools, especially, were heavy. They’d need the vehicle throughout the process.

  The day was overcast and Mason hoped the rain would hold off, as the weatherman had predicted. He hadn’t allotted time for bad weather. He couldn’t. He handed Regan a pair of work gloves, lifted a spool of plain wire out of the back of the truck and brought it to the corner post. He showed Regan how to start off by wrapping the end of the wire around the post several times before tying it off to itself. Together they picked up the rod that went through the large spool of wire and walked down the length of the pasture to the next wooden post, letting the wire play out behind them.

  In between the sturdy wooden posts were smaller metal ones to hold up the wire and give the fence more structure. Once the wire was strung between the wooden ones, Mason demonstrated how to use a small come-along to pull it tight. “Not too tight,” he cautioned her, showing her how much play to leave in the line as he cranked it. “Now comes the fun part.”

  The wire had to be tied to each metal post along the length of the side of the pasture. A time-consuming, annoying task, it was all too easy to tear up your gloves—and your hands—on the sharp metal ties. The small lengths of metal hooked around the wire on one side of the metal bars, bent around to the other side of the support, and needed to be wrapped around the wire again with a pair of pliers. Once he’d shown Regan how it was done, he handed her a bag of ties and her own pair of pliers and set her to work. He walked to the far end of the field to work his way back to her. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was hard at it. She was a hell of a woman. He wished he was showing her a better time. They hadn’t even made love in the last few days.

  Time to lighten things up, even if only for a moment. “Race you,” he called. “Winner gets to feel up the loser.” He was rewarded with a smile from Regan, but he had to work hard to feel like playing games. He told himself his father wouldn’t have succumbed to worry like he was, but the thought of his balance sheet sinking like a stone through pond water made it hard to think of anything else.

  “That game seems stacked against me,” Regan called back, already hard at work.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Not really.”

  She was right; he moved far faster than she did since he had more experience and stronger muscles in his hands and arms. He had the goad of knowing his dream was slipping through his fingers, too. Once in a while he heard a muffled oath and knew her pliers had slipped or she’d dropped a tie. When he glanced her way, she was working quickly.

  “I’m going to beat you!” she said when she saw him looking.

  “I doubt it.” When he passed the halfway mark, he shook off his dark thoughts, threw down his pliers, strode over to her and lifted her right off the ground, spinning her in a circle. He set her down, slid his hands up under her shirt and bra, and caressed her breasts until they tightened into stiff peaks. He growled low in his throat. “I should have said the winner gets to do more than feel up the loser.”

  “We’ve got work to do. Lots of it. Time for playing tonight when we’re done.” She knocked the cowboy hat he wore today low down over his nose.

  “Hey.” He cocked it back and stole a kiss. “All right, but you’d better be ready for some serious action tonight.”

  “Don’t worry—I will be.” But Regan wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. “Who is that?”

  He turned to see a dark green Chevy truck rumbling down the track that led to the pastures. Whoever it was must have stopped at the house first, found it empty and decided to come looking for them. His heart sank again. Anyone that determined had to have bad news. He released her and she smoothed her clothing back into place.

  “I don’t recognize the truck.”

  They waited until it rumbled down the worn track and came to a stop nearby. An old man climbed out stiffly and made his way to them.

  “Hello,” he said. “I don’t suppose you recognize me.”

  Mason wracked his memory. “Allen James?”

  “That’s right!” The old man chuckled. “I was friends with your grandfather. Used to stop by to shoot the breeze with him when you were just a little thing.”

  “Nice to see you again, Allen. What can I do for you? Did you come to get a look at the place? We’re doing our best to fix it up.” So Zeke owed Allen money too. Was there no end to the creditors he needed to pay off? How much would it be this time? Two hundred dollars? Two thousand? Shame washed over him on behalf of his uncle. Allen James had been like a brother to Zeke’s father, Abraham Hall. They’d grown up together.

  “Your father would be proud of you for what you’re doing. Everyone’s been saying what a shame it was that Zeke let the place go like he did. I’m glad you’re putting things back to rights. The county wouldn’t be the same without the Hall.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Well, I won’t take up much more of your time. I just wanted to give you this.” He handed an envelope to Mason.

  “What is it?” A bill?

  “I heard about the way you’ve been going around town making good on Zeke’s debts. Made me happy to know how well you’d turned out. Your grandfather was always an honorable man. So was your father. I miss them both. When Abe died I lost a good friend.” The old man swallowed. “I owed him a little money at the time, too. Just a little, mind you. We’d gone out fishing one day, stopped at the bar on the way home. I’d left my wallet in the truck and he covered my tab. Forgot all about it until it was too late.” Allen looked away for a moment and Mason knew the past had enveloped him. “It’s always bugged me a little I didn’t settle my debt with him before he passed. Now I’ve settled it with you.” He patted the envelope in Mason’s hand. “I’ll be on my way now, but I’ll be back from time to time to check in on you. It’s good to see a Hall in the Hall again.” He smiled at his own small joke and made his way slowly back to the truck.

  When he was gone, Mason opened the envelope and pulled out eighteen dollars and fifty-two cents. For one
moment he felt as if his father was at his side, sharing the joke. Sharing the warm feeling that came from knowing that someone believed in you, even if you were fast losing faith in yourself.

  Eighteen dollars and fifty-two cents didn’t put a dent in the amount of money he’d already spent on the ranch, but the gesture meant more to him than all the gold in the treasury could have. He was home—back to a place where honor mattered. Where family mattered. Where the Halls had always lived in the Hall.

  He turned to Regan, saw tears sparkling in her eyes and was almost undone by the emotion that assailed him.

  He would restore the Hall. He would restore his family. He would be the man that Regan deserved.

  That’s it, son. You’ve got this. He heard his father’s voice in his mind. Felt the pat of his hand on his shoulder, like he used to do when times got tough.

  He swore he wouldn’t let his father down.

  “Let’s have lunch. Then we’ll get back to work.”

  Regan nodded and they ate the lunch they’d packed on the tailgate of the truck. Afterward, they moved back to the task of tying the wire to the uprights. Energized by Allen’s visit, Mason found himself moving faster, getting the job done with efficiency and speed. Once he’d helped Regan finish her part of the fence, they repeated the process of spooling out the wire and attaching it to the uprights several times. The clouds got more ominous as the afternoon progressed. When they took another break for dinner, Mason squinted up at them.

  “I’m not sure our luck is going to hold. If we see lightning, we’ll have to call it quits. Otherwise I intend to work through it. Are you up for that?”

  Regan nodded. “Of course.” She finished up her sandwich, gulped down a few swallows of water. “Let’s get back to work, then. No more fooling around.”

 

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