Marrying Daisy Bellamy. Сьюзен Виггс

awkward moment passed, and Julian’s mood was buoyant by the time they reached the imposing, concrete-and-glass auditorium.

      He took his place with the other cadets and midshipmen; all service branches were represented. A brass band played a couple of standards, and the glee club sang “America the Beautiful.”

      The school president’s address was a balance of idealism and realism. “Today we honor you. Your numbers are few but your commitment is great. The call to serve one’s country is heard and heeded only by a select cadre of individuals, and our nation is fortunate indeed that the likes of you will join the ranks of our greatest heroes. And to the families—we honor you as well, because you are about to let them go now.”

      At that, Daisy pushed a wad of Kleenex against her face. Julian winced, feeling her pain echo through him. He wished he could tell her it wasn’t going to be that way, that nobody had to let anything go. But he’d be wrong. The price for this career was steep, in terms of relationships. Damn. He hoped she understood. He needed this. He needed the purpose and the pride of being an officer in the air force. And God knew, he needed the money. His education had not cost him a cent. Now he would repay the debt with a chunk of his life. Back when he’d signed up for ROTC, it had seemed a fair enough exchange.

      One by one, the candidates crossed the stage, raised a right hand and spoke the oath that would seal admittance into the military’s most elite class of commissioned officers. Each man or woman stood proudly as family members pinned the rank or bars onto each shoulder. Julian’s mother played her role with gusto, managing to project intense emotion as she stood on one side of Julian, while his father’s brother stood on the other.

      Julian earned a citation for physical performance and engineering. It was the engineering prize that nearly did him in, right there in front of everyone.

      His father had been a rocket scientist. It had always been a family joke that Louis Gastineaux’s passion for work surpassed his passion for life itself. He’d led an unconventional life, but Julian had always felt safe and protected. Sure, he’d wished for a mom, but his father had explained her absence without bitterness or recrimination. “It’s something she’s called to do,” Louis had told his small son, whenever Julian had asked about her. “Just like me and physics.”

      “But you’re with me,” Julian would argue.

      “How could I not be?” his dad would gently ask. “Tell me that, honey. How could I not be with you?” That had been before tragedy had struck, before the car accident that had paralyzed Julian’s father and eventually caused his death.

      At the podium, Julian held the plaque of commendation. Thanks, Dad, he thought. I love you.

      He didn’t know what kind of life his father had dreamed of for him. But today, he thought maybe this might be it.

      Afterward, there was a dinner at Cornell’s hotel school restaurant. Julian was still dying for some time alone with Daisy, but it wasn’t to be. The mixed blessing of a family demanded that he attend to all of them. He told himself he’d waited a long time, and another few hours wouldn’t matter.

      Everyone wanted to know about his orders. Where would the future take him? What would he be doing? How many in his command? The questions buzzed around him, as they had these last few weeks. People in his detachment had been swapping their news and speculation for several weeks. Plenty were going on to be pilots or navigators, but the chain of command had a different plan for Julian.

      Due to the nature of the mission, he wasn’t able to say much. “It’s an active-duty assignment,” he said. “A cooperative international venture. I’ll be doing tactical and operations training.”

      “What’s that?” asked Remy.

      “Just … doing my duty.”

      “Duty. You’re good at that stuff, Jules,” said Remy.

      “Where will you be stationed?” asked Connor.

      Julian paused. His gaze flicked to Daisy, who sat beside him. He could feel her holding her breath. There was only so much he was authorized to share.

      “Colombia,” he said. “There’s a newly upgraded base there called Palanquero.”

      His uncle let out a low whistle. “Man. Colombia.” Julian could practically feel Daisy wilt with disappointment, but she kept her smile in place. “That’s exciting, Julian,” she said. “You’ll get to use your Spanish.”

      He couldn’t tell her, but he’d been groomed specifically for this one-of-a-kind assignment. His training had been multifaceted, including attendance at the Inter-American Air Forces Academy in Texas and undergoing rigorous security evaluations to make sure he was fit for covert ops.

      He had first encountered Colonel Sanchez, the head of the operation, during a field training exercise two summers ago. He hadn’t known it then, but Sanchez had been combing the rosters, identifying personnel for the team. Julian fit the bill. He had the physical qualifications, the language skills, the technical and tactical skills. At first he hadn’t realized he was actually being scrutinized for high-risk operations. He later learned his reputation for being an adrenaline junkie had made him an early favorite.

      These days, the troubles in Colombia didn’t tend to make headlines. The rebel FARC and other anti-government paramilitary organizations had diminished, and news from the Middle East and even Mexico tended to overshadow Colombia, although the mountainous nation still produced eighty percent of the world’s cocaine. What the press generally failed to mention was that in the wake of the paramilitary demobilization, criminal groups had arisen and filled the niche, like opportunistic infections. The drugs kept coming. And in recent times, something sinister had developed—ties between the drug cartels and terrorist organizations. That, combined with a base closing in Ecuador, had spurred the U.S. to action. The idea behind the action coalition was to disrupt the activities of the drug and weapon operations, and cause their organizations to fall apart.

      “All I know about Colombia is the coffee,” his mother admitted. “And stories about scary drug lords.”

      Julian didn’t say any more. He couldn’t; it was strictly classified. Those scary drug lords were the reason he was being sent to South America.

      Six

      Staying in a hotel was a treat for Daisy. Sometimes while on a wedding assignment, she stayed at the venue, but that was work. Unfortunately, all the luxury in the world could not translate into a good night’s sleep when she was working.

      Nor could it when she was worrying. And on this night, she was worrying. She paced the floor. Stared out the window at the moonrise as it tracked imperceptibly across the night sky. And paced some more.

      Colombia. It was half a world away; she’d checked it out on Google maps. She and Julian hadn’t managed to get together while living in the same state. Now that he was going to be on a different continent, what hope did they have?

      Julian was about to start a different life, as an officer and a gentleman. A striver, a patriot. A man with a duty to his country, about to embark upon the adventure of a lifetime. But all she could think about was that his duties were going to take him far away from her into an unknown and dangerous world.

      Be happy for him, she told herself. Everything is as it should be.

      Had she been fooling herself all along, thinking there was a chance for them? Now, more than ever, she needed to have a difficult, honest conversation with him about the two of them. Their relationship was a series of encounters filled with a burning chemistry that thus far, had led only to yearning and frustration. Whenever she even thought of him, she felt a longing so fierce it hurt. Still, all the longing in the world didn’t add up to any kind of future together. For that matter, they’d never even declared their love aloud. They’d never had time or space for anything to grow and develop, knitting them together.