The ache in his chest intensified. It was a constant companion these days. How could he have been so wrong about someone? Had everything Win said and done been an act?
He thought back, the same way he’d done a thousand times before, his memory snagging like it always did on a strange occurrence early in their acquaintance. They’d eaten dinner and spent the evening with the others in the bunkhouse on a rainy day and were scattering to the tents they’d all slept in last summer. This was before they’d begun to build the tiny houses, and the cold weather had forced the remaining singletons into spending their nights in the bunkhouse. Win had hesitated in the doorway and scanned the area outside just like he or any of the other men might have. He had served as a Navy SEAL. Win hadn’t had any military training he knew of.
Her reconnaissance wasn’t the normal scan a civilian might make before stepping out into the dark, however. There was something precise about it. Something thorough. Angus bet that someone with a military background had taught her that.
“All clear?” he’d joked, and she’d stiffened.
“All clear.” She’d hurried off, not giving him time to ask questions. Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill, or maybe he wasn’t. Where would Win have learned that military precision? What else didn’t he know about her? Something had torn her away from him, and he couldn’t make himself believe it was simply greed.
Boone cleared his throat, breaking into his thoughts. “That’s right; whoever draws the short straw doesn’t have to marry Leslie.” His tone said it would be better for everyone if he did, though. “Just filling you in.”
Angus looked at the photo again, already knowing this woman wasn’t his type. Never in a million years had he pictured his life turning out this way. His family had come from Scotland to America when he was eleven when his father had landed a job in Ithaca, New York, teaching history at Cornell University. It had been hard to move to a new country and a new school. Back home he’d been liked—had felt a part of things, having lived his whole life in a single village. He still remembered the teasing his accent engendered in upstate New York. Kids could be vicious.
He realized now it was that urge to belong—and to be considered a real American—that had made him join the military the moment he was old enough. The Navy appealed to him, and he’d shone as a SEAL. Base Camp had seemed like the logical next step. Joining nine of his brothers-in-arms on a project near and dear to his heart? Of course he wanted in.
The marriage requirement was the only fly in his ointment. Win’s arrival at Base Camp had made it all seem so simple.
Now Angus couldn’t fathom pledging his heart to someone else. Marriage vows were supposed to be for life. The ultimate declaration of loyalty.
Was he supposed to lie?
“Let’s get back to work,” Boone said. “No sense worrying about any of it until tomorrow.”
I’d better not pull the short straw, Angus thought darkly. A glance at Walker told him the other man felt the same way.
“Children are so expensive,” Andrea lamented. “You’re so lucky, Win. You have to think about only yourself.”
If only that were true. Win held herself perfectly still so Maria, her seamstress, could make the last necessary adjustments to the gown she was wearing to the Manners Foundation gala tomorrow night. These days, it seemed like she had no latitude to think about herself at all. Ever since she’d returned to California, she’d split her time between tending to her mother and acting as go-between, transmitting Vienna’s orders to the executives at Manners Corp and the Manners Foundation, making sure both were run smoothly during Vienna’s illness. Her mother had refused to allow Win to join her when she traveled to the pricey private treatment clinic she’d chosen, instead leaving her at home, dictating Win’s movements through texts and lengthy phone calls.
Vienna was a fighter, and she hated anyone to see her at her weakest, but sometimes she called Win from the clinic when she was feeling her worst. Those calls were the hardest. Win would wake in the middle of the night to the buzz of her phone, snatch it up, her body bathed in anxiety, then try to staunch her fears while Vienna begged her in fading tones to stay on the line.
“You don’t know how strong you make me feel,” Vienna often whispered. “You give me something to fight for. Otherwise, I don’t know what I’d do…”
“You should fight for yourself,” Win always said. “You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be a mother.” Vienna would sigh. “It takes over your whole world.”
Sometimes, Win always wanted to add. Vienna hadn’t been around much when Win was a child—until she’d turned thirteen. Only then had her mother become her constant companion.
For a while.
Win wished she could share the news about her pregnancy, but given Angus was the father, she decided that would only upset Vienna, who was so fragile. Instead, she focused on helping her mother. Vienna still ran her ragged, especially when her energy flagged; she seemed determined to induct Win into the fold, hinting that her brush with cancer had forced her to see she needed a succession plan.
“Someday this will all be yours. You need to know how to run it,” she often said from her bed, bringing in Win to give her a list of orders to complete before the end of the day.
At one time Win would have been over the moon. Her mother had never let her near Manners Corp before.
Now the honor had lost its shine.
She missed Angus desperately. Was having trouble keeping up the charade. When she’d left Base Camp, she hadn’t known he’d be one of the last to marry. Angus still hadn’t drawn the
