Now Chloe sat in the limousine beside a silent Nathan while Ben and Ed chatted in the seat perpendicular to them. Despite all the constraints she felt, she wanted to soothe his strain away. However, the best she could do was lay her hand over his, stilling his fingers from drumming on the leather of the seat. She couldn’t even say anything comforting to him since she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends.
So she intertwined her fingers with his and gave him her best smile of support when he glanced down at her for a moment. She was rewarded with a softening of the lines around his mouth. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.
Chloe caught the quick look of concern Ed cast Nathan’s way. So she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the tightness in his jaw.
The limo swung past brick gates and wound through the military base. Chloe caught glimpses of people dressed in everything from full dress uniforms to various shades of camouflage. It struck her that Nathan had worn Marine Corps colors too, and she wondered if he was aware of it.
The limousine glided to a halt outside a large brick church with white trim. A clot of young men and women in dress uniforms walked through the church’s door, their posture impeccable. When Nathan swung the car door open, the soft, warm air felt like summer. Autumn had not yet arrived in North Carolina.
“The general picked his wedding date right. This is one of the three days the weather isn’t miserable here,” Ed said, as he exited out the other side.
Once again, Nathan offered Chloe his hand. This time, though, she had the sense that she was the one giving support, as his grip was firm to the point of near discomfort.
Ben came around the car. “We’ll go find our own seats,” he said. “You see if you can track down the general before the service begins.”
Nathan nodded as he hefted the sword case and led Chloe toward a side door of the chapel. “You’ve been here before,” she said.
“Every Sunday for all the years we were stationed here.”
She tried to think cool thoughts as she almost jogged to keep up with his long strides, but when he pulled open the door, she sighed in relief as a cloud of cool air billowed out. He towed her through another door into a small carpeted room. A tall silver-haired man in the dark-blue jacket and black belt of a Marine officer’s dress uniform stood with his back to them, his hat tucked under his arm. He was speaking with a short, wiry gray-haired man, also in uniform, who was facing them.
Nathan’s grip on her hand became crushing, but he wore a mask of polite indifference on his face. “Uncle Fred, it’s good to see you,” he said.
“Nathan, you son of a gun,” the shorter man said, a grin creasing his tanned skin. “Glad you could make it.”
The silver-haired man pivoted slowly, as though he wasn’t sure what he would find behind him. Chloe’s breath hitched as she saw his face. There was no question he was Nathan’s father. The resemblance was extraordinary, right down to the way the general’s hair waved away from his forehead.
“Dad, Uncle Fred,” Nathan said, “I’d like you to meet Chloe Russell.”
She had to tug her hand loose from his to hold it out. “General Trainor, it’s a pleasure,” she said.
The older man was wearing white gloves, and he quickly stripped his right one off before taking her hand in a dry, firm hold. “A delightful surprise to meet you,” he said, his deep voice carrying a noticeable southern drawl. He gave her a quick penetrating look before shifting his gaze back to his son.
Chloe felt invisible as the two men locked eyes. They were matched in height and breadth of shoulder. The father was only slightly thicker through the waist than his son.
The general held out his hand to Nathan. “Thank you for coming.”
For a moment, she was afraid Nathan would spurn his father’s handshake, but he briefly gripped the outstretched hand before holding up the leather case. “I thought you’d want this for the ceremony,” he said.
The general’s attention had clearly been on his son and not on the luggage he carried, because surprise flickered in his eyes. “You thought right,” he said, taking the case.
Nathan nodded. “Congratulations.”
Then he took Chloe’s hand and started toward the door. She wanted to scream in frustration. The two men hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words, and those had been stiff and formal. When Nathan suddenly halted, she happily came to a stop, hoping he would offer something more to his father. He didn’t turn but simply looked over his shoulder to say, “I’ll need the sword back after the wedding.”
She had partially swiveled so she could see the general’s face. A strange look crossed it—a mixture of shock and gladness.
Then Nathan was moving again, and she was being towed along with him. She threw an apologetic smile to Uncle Fred, who nodded back with a rueful look.
“You and your father look so much alike,” she whispered as they approached the double doors that led into the nave of the chapel.
“And there the resemblance ends,” he muttered, relinquishing her hand when a young Marine offered her his arm to escort her down the aisle.
“Bride or groom?” the young man asked, so he could seat them on the proper side of the church.