by Cora Seton
A SEAL’s Triumph
By Cora Seton
Copyright © 2021 Cora Seton
Kindle Edition
Published by One Acre Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Issued to the Bride One Navy SEAL
About the Author
Author’s Note
A SEAL’s Triumph is the tenth volume in the SEALs of Chance Creek series, set in the fictional town of Chance Creek, Montana. To find out more about Greg, Renata, Boone, Clay, Jericho, Walker and the other inhabitants of Base Camp, look for the rest of the books in the series, including:
A SEAL’s Oath
A SEAL’s Vow
A SEAL’s Pledge
A SEAL’s Consent
A SEAL’s Purpose
A SEAL’s Resolve
A SEAL’s Devotion
A SEAL’s Desire
A SEAL’s Struggle
Visit Cora’s website at www.coraseton.com
Find Cora on Facebook at facebook.com/CoraSeton
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Prologue
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One year ago
Everything was going wrong—and it was all Boone Rudman’s fault.
Avery Lightfoot bent over the stew pot hanging from an iron hook over a crackling fire in a very large, very old-fashioned hearth and listened to her friends talk as they set the table for dinner. She’d been in Montana only a month, but so much had happened in that time, it felt like longer. She scooped the skirts of her Regency era gown out of the way, careful not to spill anything on them, just as much in love with her beautiful outfit as she’d been the first day she came here.
Back then, she and her friends, Nora Ridgeway, Savannah Edwards and Riley Eaton, thought they’d get to spend six uninterrupted months in this beautiful three-story home working at their artistic, musical and literary pursuits. To make sure they didn’t stray from Westfield and waste time in town, they’d ditched their normal clothes and stocked their closets with only the things Jane Austen characters would wear. None of them would dare go anywhere dressed like this, which meant they’d make great strides on their projects. It was a wonderful plan, and it would have worked if Boone hadn’t come along and spoiled everything.
Even today, when they’d planned to have a nice meal together, he was intruding. Not with his presence—the four of them were alone—but in the way Riley was behaving. She’d been quiet ever since she returned from her last meeting with him, and it was clear something was up.
“Are you ever going to tell us what’s wrong?” Nora asked her. Trust Nora to get right to the heart of the matter. She was a serious brunette who’d come here to write her first novel. Riley, whose family had owned this ranch for generations, planned to create enough paintings to have her first show. Her light-brown hair was tucked into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Savannah, a beautiful blonde whose idea this was in the first place, wanted to brush up on her piano playing in preparation to resume the professional career she gave up after college. Avery had hoped to write a screenplay and prepare to resurrect her acting career.
Their plan had been perfect. Come to Westfield, where Riley had a standing invitation to stay as long as she liked, pool their resources and give themselves a six-month runway from which to launch the rest of their lives.
Unfortunately, it turned out Riley’s uncle didn’t own this ranch anymore, and the men who lived here now—friends of Riley’s from when she was a kid—had other plans for the place. They were here to build a model sustainable community, backed by a billionaire—Martin Fulsom—and they didn’t have much respect for the idea of taking six months “off,” as they liked to put it.
At least Boone had let them stay on at the manor, and they’d continued to wear their Regency-era clothing, which made Avery proud. As an actress, she’d worn many costumes over the years, but her friends were much more conventional. For them to don their gowns each morning took some determination, especially when two more of Boone’s friends, Clay Pickett and Jericho Cook, had arrived—and then six more strangers had appeared a week or so later.
Since then, things had gone as well as could be expected with nine men on the ranch to interrupt their days.
Better, she supposed with a sigh. Riley was smitten with Boone, and Clay and Jericho were pursuing Nora and Savannah hard.
Avery was happy for them all. Really. Despite the little voice in her head that told her once again she’d end up alone while everyone around her paired up comfortably. Someday her prince would come, as the song went.
When was anyone’s guess.
Which was fine, she reminded herself. She was supposed to be writing a screenplay, not mooning after some man.
She hadn’t had much time to think about either this afternoon, though, because they’d been too busy working on wedding plans for Savannah’s cousin, Andrea, who planned to hold her nuptials here at the manor. They’d managed to salvage only one hour of creative time for themselves out of the whole day. Riley had painted away diligently. Savannah had practiced a sonata. Nora alternately wrote and grumbled; things didn’t seem to be going well with her novel. Avery had struggled to settle to anything.
Now she focused on the stew and blinked back the sting of tears. She made herself speak normally when she looked up. “Nora’s right, Riley—you’ve been awfully quiet.”
“There is something on my mind,” Riley said slowly as she tucked a napkin beside each plate. “You’re not going to like it.”
“You’re leaving?” Avery’s mind went straight to the worst possibility, and she stood up, all pretence of stirring the stew forgotten. If Riley left, everyone would go. It would be the end of the experiment, the end of spending time together—a return to a life she hated.
“No. Not that,” Riley assured her.
“I can deal with anything else.” As long as she didn’t lose the friends she depended on so much.
Riley took a deep breath as if she doubted that, and Avery’s stomach sank. Whatever was coming must be bad. “After Andrea’s wedding, I’m afraid we’ll have to put our plans on hold for a while. Fulsom is funding all this.” She waved a hand to include the manor and the rest of the ranch. Martin Fulsom, a billionaire known for his environmental causes and his flamboyant self-promotion, was the one who’d purchased the land from Riley’s uncle. “He’s given the ranch to Boone and the others to build their community on for now, but he still holds the deed and purse strings, and Boone’s let me know they have to do what he says.”
“What is he saying?” Nora asked in what Avery thought of as her “teacher voice.” Avery figured she must be tough but fair in the classroom, someone students knew they couldn’t fool.
“You know Fulsom wants to film a television show about the process of building their sustainable community. Well, he doesn’t like that we’re wearing Regency clothes when we wander around the place. We have to stop for the duration of filming, which is going to be six months.”
“We
can’t wear our gowns?” Savannah asked.
“No. We’ll have to buy some modern things.” Riley’s hands twisted the fabric of her gown, and it was clear she hated the directive as much as she knew the rest of them would.
“Boone expects us to take part in the show? And he never asked?” Sometimes Boone was arrogant, or at least bossy, but even he had to know they’d never agree to that.
“He’d like us to,” Riley nearly whispered. She was obviously miserable, and Avery’s heart went out to her, but that didn’t change how she felt.
“No,” Savannah said. “I’m not going to do that. I know what reality TV is like, and I don’t want any part of it.”
“Me, neither,” Nora said. “Not in a million years.”
Avery shook her head, too, desperation growing inside her. What was Boone thinking? Did he think he got to ruin everything, and they’d traipse along after him like happy little puppies? He was stealing Riley, destroying the careful plan they’d made for their futures, making them go back to normal clothes, normal life—and she hated the life she’d left behind. “That’s an invasion of privacy. It would ruin Westfield for me,” she sputtered. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say—that she wished Boone had never come at all.
Riley closed her eyes for a moment, then seemed to steel herself and opened them again. “Then you don’t have to do it.” She began to lay out the forks and knives, her face white and her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“But you’re going to?” Savannah came to her side. “Do you really want to?”
“I plan to.”
Avery looked down. She knew Riley cared for Boone and suffered when his interference made the rest of them unhappy.
“There’s more you should know, though. About the men,” Riley went on.
More? How could there possibly be more? Avery backed away from the fire, wishing she could run out of the kitchen and slam the door behind her. She wished she could go back in time to when they’d first come up with their plan and suggest a different place to settle, one where Boone would never have found them.
“What is it?” Savannah asked.
“The television show is going to be set up like a contest. There are certain benchmarks the men have to meet and they’re… unusual.”
Avery stifled a groan. Reality television could be brutal. It was all about exposing the participants for the gleeful derision of the viewers. She’d been biting her tongue ever since she found out Boone and the other men were going to be a part of one. She’d pretended to herself it wouldn’t affect her or her friends, but she’d known she was wrong.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to hate this?” Nora asked.
“Because you are,” Riley said baldly. “You all are. His demands are utterly ridiculous. Boone said he’s doing it to make the show controversial enough that the audience will be huge. He’s going to spend a bundle advertising it. He wants it to be the most talked about thing on television.”
“What are the benchmarks?” Savannah asked.
Avery felt like she was watching their conversation from somewhere far away. She was losing her opportunity to make a better life for herself—they all were.
How could they be so calm?
“It was Fulsom who told them they had to increase their numbers until there are ten men. Now they have to build houses for each of them that use a tenth of the energy an average American house uses. All that energy has to be from renewable sources, and they have to grow or raise all the food they’ll need to get through the winter. They all need to marry, too, and have three kids on the way, which means Clay and Jericho need to find wives fast,” she added pointedly to Nora and Savannah. “They’ll probably want to try for children right away.”
Avery couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Marriages? Kids? How on earth could Fulsom dictate those kinds of things? She looked around to the others, but they were both staring at Riley.
“How come Boone isn’t doing that?” Nora asked finally.
Riley pressed her lips together, and there was a long, uncomfortable pause. Avery knew she needed to put something together here, a leap her mind couldn’t make.
Refused to make.
Nora’s and Savannah’s horrified expressions told her they already had.
Nora was shaking, her hands on her hips. “Is he doing that? Riley, what have you done?”
“I’m… I’m going to marry him,” Riley confirmed, and Avery felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Marry him? If Riley married Boone, this whole thing was over. “June first will be my wedding day,” Riley went on. “You have to understand; Boone’s an old friend. We know each other, and we have chemistry. It’s not like we just met.”
“But if he’s using you…” Avery didn’t recognize her own voice. It was high and shrill, encompassing all her shock. Why would Riley agree to such a thing just to appease a billionaire with a God complex?
“He’s not!” Riley straightened. “If anything, I’m using him. If Boone and his friends fail, Fulsom will take back Westfield and give it to a developer who will carve up the ranch. My ranch! It’ll be gone forever. I can’t let that happen.”
Riley was marrying Boone to save her ranch? To get it back? Was that what she meant? Avery knew how much Riley loved the place and how devastated she’d been to find she wouldn’t inherit it like she’d thought.
But marriage—
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Savannah said.
“I figured you’d react pretty much like you did,” Riley said helplessly. “I understand, though. No hard feelings.”
There were definitely hard feelings, Avery realized. Riley wanted them to approve of her plans, and their astonishment and disbelief were cutting her to the quick. She was torn between her desire to comfort her friend and wanting to shake Riley until her sense returned. You couldn’t trade your future for a piece of property—
“We’ll need to move out, won’t we?” Nora said slowly, interrupting Avery’s thoughts. She caught Riley’s eye and hurried to add, “Not because of Boone, because of Fulsom. If we stay on the ranch, his camera crews will try to pull us into the show.”
She was right; Boone would make them puppets in his master plan to seize what should have been Riley’s, Avery thought. He’d known from day one what he meant to do, hadn’t he? He’d stalked Riley, convinced her she loved him—all so he could win his little show and build his stupid sustainable community. He’d never once thought of their feelings—or Riley’s, probably.
She opened her mouth to say that but caught sight of Riley’s pleading gaze and was filled with the uncomfortable realization she wasn’t being very fair. Riley was an intelligent, independent woman. She wouldn’t marry someone she didn’t think she could love—would she?
In fact, she probably already loved him. It had been clear for days she was falling for him.
Avery couldn’t blame Riley, either. Boone was handsome. An old friend. Shared her love for the ranch and this area of Montana. He was a Navy SEAL, for heaven’s sake, made to be worshipped by women. And he was a good guy in his own way, even if he had loosed a tornado in their well-laid-out plans.
“We’ll have to look for a rental in town, I guess.” She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hold in the pain at the thought of breaking up their group so soon after their arrival here.
“Which means we’ll need to look for jobs. Just like I said at the outset,” Nora said, her jaw tight.
“It’s only temporary,” Riley pleaded with them.
“Maybe it’s time for me to go back to teaching,” Nora went on as if she hadn’t heard her. “If there’s nothing in Chance Creek, there might be in Billings.”
“Maybe I should move back home,” Savannah said with a sigh. “My parents have a beautiful piano. Maybe if I took a part-time job they’d support me in trying to play seriously.”
Avery’s heart sank. If Savannah was talking of leaving Montana altogether, then this
was worse than she’d suspected. They’d worked so damn hard to get here. They’d sold everything, taken a huge chance. “No,” she burst out, and her frustration increased when Riley winced. “Come on. We’ve come so far; please don’t ruin everything now!”
“We’re not trying to ruin anything,” Nora said reasonably. “Sometimes things don’t work out… Where are you going?”
Avery untied her apron and threw it on the table as she marched right out of the house. Riley wasn’t to blame for this, and she couldn’t fix it, either. Time to go right to the source. “I’m going to tell Lieutenant Boone Rudman what a colossal ass he is!”
“Now we’re talking,” Greg Devon said, and Walker Norton looked up to follow his gaze. He’d arrived only a couple of hours ago, and it was still strange to be back in Chance Creek, back on this ranch where he’d spent many summers working during his teens with his best friends, Boone, Clay and Jericho. He’d left home after graduating from high school, first to pursue a degree at Montana State, then to join the Navy and serve with the SEALs. It was Boone who’d come up with the idea to start this sustainable community, and he, Clay and Jericho had already been here for several weeks, joined recently by six other men who’d served with the SEALs. It had been strange to arrive in Chance Creek to find the ranch already populated with so many men. Stranger still to know that good old Riley Eaton, who was sixteen the last time he’d seen her, had settled up at the manor with several of her friends.
Right after he’d arrived, Boone had introduced him to all the men who’d come to join their community, but Walker hadn’t seen the women yet. Clay had made it clear he was interested in one of them—Nora—and Jericho fairly bristled when anyone mentioned Savannah. Both were content to settle down and marry soon, perfectly happy with the whole situation.
Walker couldn’t understand that, even though it was hard to point fingers when he had joined Boone, too, knowing full well what Martin Fulsom’s rules for them were. He still didn’t know what had made him say yes to this travesty of a project when it was clear it was doomed to fail, but then he’d always had a hard time saying no when Boone, Clay and Jericho had agreed to an adventure. They’d gotten him into plenty of trouble when they were kids. His grandmother, Sue, who’d raised him, used to tell him to give them a wide berth.
