Read A SEAL's Oath (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 1) for Free Online Page A
Authors: Cora Seton
the following year and her parents split. It was as if a tidal wave had washed away her childhood in one blow. After that, her parents sold their home and caretakers watched over the ranch. Uncle Russ, who’d inherited it, had found he made a better financier than a cowboy. With his career taking off, he’d moved to Europe soon after.
At his farewell dinner, one of the few occasions she’d seen her parents in the same room since they’d divorced, he’d stood up and raised a glass. “To Riley. You’re the only one who loves Westfield now, and I want you to think of it as yours. One day in the future it will be, you know. While I’m away, I hope you’ll treat it as your own home. Visit as long as you like. Bring your friends. Enjoy the ranch. My parents would have wanted that.” He’d taken her aside later and presented her with a key. His trust in her and his promises had warmed her heart. If she’d own Westfield one day she could stand anything, she’d told herself that night. It was the one thing that had sustained her through life’s repeated blows.
“I wish I could run away from my life, even for a little while. Six months would do it,” Savannah said, breaking into her thoughts. “If I could clear my mind of everything that has happened in the past few years I know I could make a fresh start.”
Riley knew just what she meant. She’d often wished the same thing, but she didn’t only want to run away from her life; she wanted to run straight back into her past to a time when her grandparents were still alive. Things had been so simple then.
Until she’d fallen for Boone.
She hadn’t seen Uncle Russ since he’d moved away, although she wrote to him a couple of times a year, and received polite, if remote, answers in turn. She had the feeling Russ had found the home of his heart in Munich. She wondered if he’d ever come back to Montana.
In the intervening years she’d visited Westfield whenever she could, more frequently as the sting of Boone’s betrayal faded, although in reality that meant a long weekend every three or four months, rather than the expansive summer vacations she’d imagined when she’d received the key. It wasn’t quite the same without her grandparents and her old friends, without Boone and the Horsemen, but she still loved the country, and Westfield Manor was the stuff of dreams. Even the name evoked happy memories and she blessed the ancestor whose flight of fancy had bestowed such a distinguished title on a Montana ranch house. She’d always wondered if she’d stumble across Boone someday, home for leave, but their visits had never coincided. Still, whenever she drove into Chance Creek, her heart rate kicked up a notch and she couldn’t help scanning the streets for his familiar face.
“I wish I could run away from my dirty dishes and laundry,” Avery said. Riley knew she was attempting to lighten the mood. “I spend my weekends taking care of all my possessions. I bet Jane Austen didn’t do laundry.”
“In those days servants did it,” Nora said, swiping her arm over her cheek to wipe away the traces of her tears. “Maybe we should get servants, too, while we’re dreaming.”
“Maybe we should, if it means we could concentrate on the things we love,” Savannah said.
“Like that’s possible. Look at us—we’re stuck, all of us. There’s no way out.” The waver in Nora’s voice betrayed her fierceness.
“There has to be,” Avery exclaimed.
“How?”
Riley wished she had the answer. She hated seeing the pain and disillusionment on her friends’ faces. And she was terrified of having to start over herself.
“What if… what if we lived together?” Savannah said slowly. “I mean, wouldn’t that be better than how things are now? If we pooled our resources and figured out how to make them stretch? None of us would have to work so hard.”
“I thought you had a good job,” Nora said, a little bitterly.
“On paper. The cost of living
At his farewell dinner, one of the few occasions she’d seen her parents in the same room since they’d divorced, he’d stood up and raised a glass. “To Riley. You’re the only one who loves Westfield now, and I want you to think of it as yours. One day in the future it will be, you know. While I’m away, I hope you’ll treat it as your own home. Visit as long as you like. Bring your friends. Enjoy the ranch. My parents would have wanted that.” He’d taken her aside later and presented her with a key. His trust in her and his promises had warmed her heart. If she’d own Westfield one day she could stand anything, she’d told herself that night. It was the one thing that had sustained her through life’s repeated blows.
“I wish I could run away from my life, even for a little while. Six months would do it,” Savannah said, breaking into her thoughts. “If I could clear my mind of everything that has happened in the past few years I know I could make a fresh start.”
Riley knew just what she meant. She’d often wished the same thing, but she didn’t only want to run away from her life; she wanted to run straight back into her past to a time when her grandparents were still alive. Things had been so simple then.
Until she’d fallen for Boone.
She hadn’t seen Uncle Russ since he’d moved away, although she wrote to him a couple of times a year, and received polite, if remote, answers in turn. She had the feeling Russ had found the home of his heart in Munich. She wondered if he’d ever come back to Montana.
In the intervening years she’d visited Westfield whenever she could, more frequently as the sting of Boone’s betrayal faded, although in reality that meant a long weekend every three or four months, rather than the expansive summer vacations she’d imagined when she’d received the key. It wasn’t quite the same without her grandparents and her old friends, without Boone and the Horsemen, but she still loved the country, and Westfield Manor was the stuff of dreams. Even the name evoked happy memories and she blessed the ancestor whose flight of fancy had bestowed such a distinguished title on a Montana ranch house. She’d always wondered if she’d stumble across Boone someday, home for leave, but their visits had never coincided. Still, whenever she drove into Chance Creek, her heart rate kicked up a notch and she couldn’t help scanning the streets for his familiar face.
“I wish I could run away from my dirty dishes and laundry,” Avery said. Riley knew she was attempting to lighten the mood. “I spend my weekends taking care of all my possessions. I bet Jane Austen didn’t do laundry.”
“In those days servants did it,” Nora said, swiping her arm over her cheek to wipe away the traces of her tears. “Maybe we should get servants, too, while we’re dreaming.”
“Maybe we should, if it means we could concentrate on the things we love,” Savannah said.
“Like that’s possible. Look at us—we’re stuck, all of us. There’s no way out.” The waver in Nora’s voice betrayed her fierceness.
“There has to be,” Avery exclaimed.
“How?”
Riley wished she had the answer. She hated seeing the pain and disillusionment on her friends’ faces. And she was terrified of having to start over herself.
“What if… what if we lived together?” Savannah said slowly. “I mean, wouldn’t that be better than how things are now? If we pooled our resources and figured out how to make them stretch? None of us would have to work so hard.”
“I thought you had a good job,” Nora said, a little bitterly.
“On paper. The cost of living