“If you want me there, then of course, I’ll arrange to join you.”
“I do. This is important, Rachel. I’d like you to meet my extended family and my friends.”
The initial introduction to his parents, when they’d visited the Seattle area a few months earlier, hadn’t gone well. Nate evidently hadn’t been aware of his mother’s disapproval, although Rachel certainly hadn’t missed it. While Patrice Olsen had seemed polite and charming, her message was clear. Rachel came without connections, without influential relatives or other beneficial associations. She was from a different class than the politically based Olsen clan, and Rachel was afraid she’d never fit into his family. She was convinced Patrice had someone in mind for her only son. And that someone wasn’t an orphaned hair and nail tech from Cedar Cove, Washington.
“The rally would be a great experience,” Nate assured her.
“Really?” Rachel knew she sounded doubtful, even though she tried not to.
“I want you to understand the responsibilities of being part of my family.”
“Oh.” That was straightforward enough. “Are you thinking of running for office one day?” she asked. When they’d first met, Nate hadn’t even told her his father was a congressman. He’d joined the navy as an enlisted man in defiance of his family. At the time, he’d felt the need to prove himself. Obviously that was no longer the case.
“I have been thinking about it,” Nate confessed. “That doesn’t mean I will, but it’s in the blood, you know? Just being at one of these rallies with Dad is exciting, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until he called. There’s an energy to a campaign—it’s contagious. You’ll see what I mean.”
“Oh, Nate, I’m not the right woman for you.” She blurted this out, feeling close to tears. “I hate being in the limelight. I’d be a detriment to you.”
“Rachel, how can you say that? I love you—you’re everything I want in a woman, a wife.”
“But I’m not! How can I be? The mere thought of a political life terrifies me.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge. Meet me in October and you can see for yourself what it’s really like. Don’t be so willing to give up on us.”
The possibility of not having Nate in her future was the deciding factor. “I’ll do it,” she said, her voice resolute.
“Thank you, babe.” He reached for her hand, then raised it to his lips.
The weekend was a whirlwind of activity. Nate and Rachel arrived at the Puyallup Fairgrounds at eleven on Saturday morning and didn’t leave until nearly ten that night. By then they’d experienced just about everything the fair had to offer, from cotton candy to corn on the cob and rides that terrified her. They’d attended a horse show and dog obedience trials and she’d watched a baby chick peck its way out of its shell. At Rachel’s strongly worded request, Nate purchased tickets to see one of the American Idol winners.
“Promise you won’t tell any of my friends I actually paid to listen to someone from American Idol,” Nate protested.
Rachel swatted his arm. “Don’t you dare say a bad word about my all-time favorite TV show.”
Despite Nate’s reservations, he seemed to enjoy the performance as much as Rachel did.
Sunday morning, after brunch at her place, they were on the ferry to the Seahawks game at Quest Field in downtown Seattle. The game was exciting, even for someone who didn’t care much about football. The Seahawks won in the final seconds, and because the game was so close, Rachel and Nate left later than they’d planned.
She had to drop Nate off at the airport; there wasn’t time to go inside with him. He kissed her long and hard, releasing her only when a security guard approached their vehicle.
“Move along, folks,” he said, waving toward Rachel’s car.
Nate kissed her again. “We’ll be together next month.”
Rachel had put the political rally out of her mind. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying not to worry about it. Nate was right—she shouldn’t give up on their relationship without making more of an effort. She could learn to be the kind of wife he needed if he entered politics. She’d just have to learn the social niceties. The protocol. The conversation.
She waited until he’d walked through the glass doors, then drove away with tears in her eyes. Periodically on the drive back to Cedar Cove she had to blink rapidly to clear her vision.
Her small rental house felt even smaller once she got home. She tossed her purse and keys on a shelf in the hallway and ignored the blinking red light that informed her she had phone messages.
When the doorbell rang, she groaned audibly. She wasn’t in any mood for company. She debated not answering but the doorbell rang again. Someone was persistent. Not entirely to her surprise, she found Bruce Peyton standing there—looking as if he was lost and needed directions. Jolene wasn’t with him, either.
“Can I come in?” he’d asked when she didn’t immediately invite him inside.
“Oh, sure, sorry.” She’d put him off when he’d asked, earlier in the week, if they could get together, and felt guilty about that. “I just got home,” she explained. “Not two minutes ago.”
“I know,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen. Without waiting to be asked, he slouched down in a kitchen chair.
She wondered what was wrong, and all at once it occurred to her that this might have to do with his daughter. “Where’s Jolene?” she asked urgently. “She’s okay, isn’t she?”
“She’s roller-skating with friends.” He rested his elbows on the table, then propped up his head. He looked tired.
“What’s the matter with you?” She began to make a pot of coffee. Bruce could obviously use the caffeine and she needed something to do, something to work off her nervous tension.
Bruce studied her with wide blue eyes. “You’re going to marry that navy guy, aren’t you?”
“Bruce, honestly.”
“I know. It’s none of my business.”
The coffee had started to drain into the pot. Rachel waited until there was enough for a cup, then poured it into a mug, which she handed him.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” she said. “It’s too soon.”
“You love him, though?”
“Yes.” She wouldn’t deny it.
“He wants to marry you.” He said this as though making a statement of fact.
Nodding, she filled a second mug. “If I do decide to marry Nate, we’ll work something out with Jolene. She can fly out to visit us in California—or wherever we are—on a regular basis.” Rachel sat across from him at the table.
“She’d appreciate that, I’m sure.”
“I’d
