Luke was one of five people on the stage leading the singing. In addition to him, there were two other guitarists, a drummer and a woman playing an electronic keyboard. All were competent musicians and they sounded good together. It was fun, entertaining and oddly enlightening to watch and listen to Luke. Several times he glanced at her and smiled, giving her a warm feeling and causing her heart to skip a beat.
* * *
AFTER THE CHAPEL service, Claire and Luke had lunch at the Officers’ Club. They asked Bridgette to join them, but she declined, citing the need to get ready for work. She winked at Claire, though, and Claire guessed that her excuse was contrived. She smiled at her new friend and winked back.
As they were leaving the club, Luke glanced at Claire’s feet. “Are those shoes comfortable?”
Claire looked down at her ballet flats and then back up at Luke. Puzzled by the question, she replied, “Yes. They’re quite comfortable. Why?”
“I mean can you walk in them for a while? Like several miles.”
“Yes, I guess. Why?”
“I have a treat for you. Something you’re going to love.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the nearest gate. “Come on. We need to find a cab.”
* * *
TWENTY MINUTES LATER they emerged from a taxi at the entrance to Seoul’s equivalent of Central Park. Claire had seen the small mountain that marked the center of the city from a distance, and was familiar with the tall tower that graced its peak. The area was comprised of rolling, wooded hills, complete with numerous trails and wide walking paths.
“This is Namsan Park,” Luke explained. He took her hand and followed a group of people moving toward one of the wide paths. “There’s actually a cable car that goes to the top, but I think you’ll like this better.”
After being largely confined to the base for several days, and with much of that time spent in the apartment, Claire rejoiced at the opportunity to be outside, walking in a park on a lovely April afternoon.
“So where are we going?” she asked.
“Up.”
“Okay. I’m game. What are we going to see?”
“Just wait. It won’t take long.”
True to Luke’s prediction, they had walked only a few hundred yards, moving steadily up the path toward the top of the hill, when they made a turn. Before them was a magnificent display of flowering trees, covered with small white blossoms. The trees lined both sides of the wide path, trailing up the mountain until the path turned again, out of sight, but continuing upward. At many places the trees met overhead, creating a canopy.
Claire gasped at the lovely sight. “Oh, my gosh! It’s beautiful. What are they?”
“Cherry blossoms.” Luke’s answer was barely above a whisper. He was not looking at the flowering trees, rather, he was watching her.
Claire felt like a child at Christmas. They wound their way up the mountain and with each turn in the path, she exclaimed again at the beauty before them. She didn’t mind that the park was crowded with others who’d come to enjoy the annual sight. It was as if they were the only couple on the lovely mountain set in the vast city.
Hand in hand they strolled for nearly an hour, slowly making their way along the trail shaded by the white blooming trees. When they arrived at the top of the mountain, they came to a large landing area, probably at least a quarter mile square. At the crest was the base of the Seoul Tower, which rose nearly 800 feet above them.
“Want to go up?” Luke asked as Claire squinted to look at the top of the steel-and-concrete structure.
She looked at the long line of people waiting for the elevator and shook her head. “No, not really. If it’s okay with you, I’d rather just stay here in the park and enjoy the flowers.”
They walked a little farther down the back side of the mountain, looking for a spot that was a bit less crowded. Finally, they located a deserted bench and sat down. Luke stretched out his legs, leaned his head back and closed his eyes, seeming to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his face.
Claire sat back on the bench and observed the passersby. There were many young couples, clearly courting, much like her and Luke. She stared in awe when she observed that many of the young women were wearing very short skirts and very high heels. Marveling at the challenge of maneuvering the fairly steep path in three-inch heels, she said, “I’m afraid I would trip and fall trying to go downhill on those shoes!”
Luke laughed. “I have to say that it’s impressive, and I would imagine pretty painful. That’s why I asked if yours were comfortable.”
She giggled. “And I appreciate it!”
They watched the park’s visitors a little more. Young couples were pushing baby strollers and carrying small children. They saw older couples strolling by and even the occasional group of tourists. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, and Claire saw hundreds of small white petals rain down on the path.
“What are you thinking?” Luke’s voice was quiet, and he was studying her.
“That you were so right. This has been one of my favorite days ever.” She shyly clasped his hand. “Thank you for bringing me.”
He laced his fingers with hers. “My pleasure.”
They sat a few more minutes enjoying the people and the showering petals. After a while, Luke broke the silence. “I have a question. Just checking—to be sure... Ahem...”
Claire turned her attention from the people and flowers to the man. “Luke, what?”
“I need to clarify something.” He shifted nervously. “You’re not involved with anyone back in Minnesota, are you?”
Claire pulled her hand away and frowned. Her voice carried an edge when she answered. “Luke, if I was ‘involved’ with someone at home, I wouldn’t be here with you.” Her jaw tensed.
Luke swallowed and looked up toward the lovely blue sky before turning back to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. Don’t be upset, I just needed to be sure.” He took her hand again. “It’s important to me.”
Her brief spot of anger evaporated, and she sighed. “Luke, I’ve never been involved with anyone, period. I really haven’t dated much. Because of being home-schooled and my time spent skating, I wasn’t around boys other than my church youth groups. And then when I started college, I was pretty immature, relatively speaking, and I’m...well, kind of on the shy side...” She shrugged and looked down at nothing in particular. “Since then, I’ve mostly focused on school and work, and no one has been interested enough...”
“Are the men in Minnesota stupid or something?”
Her only response was a rueful half smile. They were quiet again for a few minutes.
Something suddenly occurred to Claire. “Are you?” She gnawed on her lip and searched Luke’s face. “Are you involved with anyone?”
His eyes held hers. “No, I’m not.” He looked away then, his gaze drifting to his hands. “Not now.” A minute passed and she was quiet, waiting for him to continue. “I was engaged once.” He was still addressing his hands. “Her name was Whitney. She was one of my sister’s roommates in college. We met when I was a junior at Annapolis. She was—er, she is—blonde, bubbly and gregarious.” He finally looked at her again. “I fell head over heels.
“At Christmas during my senior year, I was home on leave and asked her to marry me... I was thrilled when she agreed and we set the date for July after I graduated. That spring, she told me she wanted to put off the wedding for a year, until after my first deployment. That way she could graduate and then join me wherever I was stationed. That made sense, so I left for the Persian Gulf. I was young, only 21, but I was also very much in love with her.”
Luke was watching Claire carefully and saw the flash of pain in her expression when he said that. He gently rubbed her fingers with his thumb. “Claire, I want you to know.” She nodded and he continued. “Anyway, I was gone
for just under eleven months. I kept her picture with me all the time. We were at sea and often in blackout situations, but I wrote and emailed whenever I could. She wrote less often, but I rationalized that she was busy. We would Skype pretty regularly. As time went on, I could tell that she was cooling toward me. The letters and calls became less and less frequent. I didn’t want to admit what was happening... Anyway, to make a long, very common story short, when I got back, I immediately went to see her—even before I went home.”
His voice became remorseful. “Imagine my surprise... When she saw me she started crying and told me that she was getting married to someone else. She was four months pregnant.”
His gaze shifted to the cherry blossoms above. “We had never—er—had sex. She told me—well we both thought we should wait until after we were married.” His eyes finally found hers again. “Obviously, she felt differently about the other guy.”
“Obviously, she was an idiot.” Claire couldn’t hide the unexpected surge of jealousy.
Her irritable comment surprised a chuckle out of Luke. He squeezed her hand. “That’s pretty much it, except to say that I was devastated. It took me a couple of years to get over... Well, anyway, I haven’t dated much since then.” He gave her a wry look. “Mostly because of lack of opportunity, but also, I guess because I have ‘trust issues’.”
“So, what did your family say? I know it doesn’t help when you’re hurting that much, but I bet they were very supportive.”
“Actually, Ruthie told me she was really glad about—well, about how it had worked out. She called Whitney ‘high maintenance,’ and said she wasn’t nearly good enough for me. It was a very sweet thing to say, but Ruthie is very loyal to the family. And I know my mom in particular was overjoyed. She told me that it was for the best. She said she always believed that Whitney was more interested in my money than me.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Well, it sounds like Ruthie was right. She wasn’t good enough for you. Plus, I’m right, she was stupid!”
He laughed and kissed her nose. “I think you’re wonderful.” He stood. “Well, enough about that. It was way in the past, but it’s something I didn’t want to keep from you. It’s starting to get dark, Ms. Olsen. We probably need to be heading down the mountain.”
She smiled at him and held his hand as they strolled among the cherry blossoms.
They were quiet for a while, both lost in their thoughts. As they turned the last corner near the bottom of the mountain she glanced at him and asked, “Your mom thought Whitney was after your money? I didn’t know naval officers made that much.” She thought about that a moment before adding, “Of course, they must make more than oncology nurses...”
His brow creased briefly, then he responded, “We do all right.” He smiled sheepishly. “But there are a lot of benefits. For example, you get to meet beautiful young women who’ve had their passports stolen.”
“Oh.” She returned his smile. “I guess there are benefits.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THAT EVENING AFTER dinner, Luke was working at the dining table. He moved from a computer to a laptop, splitting his attention between the screens and moving his hands from one keyboard to the other. Although Claire didn’t say anything, he sensed her presence and looked up.
In that first nanosecond, all thoughts were erased from Luke’s mind and he could think of absolutely nothing but her. She had showered and gotten ready for bed. Her shiny black hair was lying across her shoulders and down her back. She was wearing an oversized Green Bay Packers jersey, which reached almost to her knees, and she was barefoot. His mouth was suddenly dry and his heart started beating irregularly. Not fully conscious of what he was doing, he stood.
It was instinct, not experience, that allowed Claire to recognize Luke’s reaction—desire. She swallowed hard, instantly uncertain. She knew she needed to do something—say something—but was at a loss. Her heart was thudding painfully and she bit her lip as she tried to gauge his thoughts and anticipate his actions.
Luke could barely breathe. He recognized the sensation—during his football days he’d had the wind knocked out of him on more than one occasion. The constriction in his chest at that instant rivaled the feeling caused by a blow from a 300-pound defensive lineman. He knew he was staring, but nothing short of an earthquake could tear his eyes from her.
He was so attuned to Claire he could see that she was struggling with apprehension that might border on fright. He knew he needed to react—to say something, anything, to break the tension. After a couple of deep breaths, inspiration hit.
“The Packers? Seriously?”
The tension shattered.
She glanced down at the jersey. “Yeah. So?” One corner of her mouth turned up. “You have a problem with cheeseheads?”
“Please... Like there’s any football team except the Cowboys?” He motioned to the front door. “That’s it. You have to leave now. I can’t share an apartment with a Green Bay fan.” He took two steps in her direction. “Here, I’ll help you pack.”
She giggled and shook her head. “The Cowboys? I should have known. You guys from Texas are so predictable. You need to stretch, consider other possibilities. Jerry Jones and company are not the only game in town.”
“Yeah, but the Packers?” He sighed. “I would have thought at least the Vikings.”
“Can’t help it. It’s a family thing.” She held out her hands in mock resignation. “I can see we’re at an impasse. It looks like we’re going to have to come to some sort of compromise...”
He shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t know...I have to consider the full implications. If my grandfather found out, I could be disowned.”
“Hmm...I may have to remember that for future blackmailing attempts.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll let you stay for now.” He chuckled. “But we’d better wait till later to discuss baseball loyalties.”
Claire smiled and stepped closer, and Luke saw that she was holding something.
“I was wondering if you could help me. It should only take a few minutes.” Once again, she seemed a little hesitant.
“Sure. What is it?”
“I need to take out my stitches. They’ve been in over a week and should go. I can’t do it myself, because it’s my right arm, and I’m just not that coordinated. And, I don’t want to have to go somewhere to have it done.”
Luke crossed the short distance that still separated them. “Here, let me take a look.” He raised her arm and for the first time actually saw the result of the knife attack. As he’d been told, the wound was long, running almost the full length of the underside of her right forearm. His examination revealed more than two dozen small black stitches that were closely spaced, neatly mending the long, slightly curving cut. The doctor who had sutured the laceration had done a very nice job; the wound itself was well on its way to being healed.
Luke lightly ran his forefinger along the stitches. He nodded and said, “It might hurt a little.”
“It’s all right.” She met his stare for a moment and swallowed hard. “I’m tougher than I look.” She lifted her other hand, which contained a wash cloth, a pair of tweezers and a pair of manicure scissors. “I’ve disinfected the forceps and scissors, so I think everything’s ready to go.”
Luke pulled two chairs away from the table, angling them to get the best light. He sat directly across from her, with their knees touching. She looked at him with a hint of confusion when he picked up the tweezers and scissors, which looked tiny in his large hands. “To be honest, you surprised me, Luke. Most lay people are really hesitant about things like this. I thought I’d have to coax you into taking them out.”
“Please,” he scoffed as he deftly picked up the knot of the first suture with the tweezers. “I’ve had this done to me so many times, I could probably do the stitchin
g.” He looked up and grinned. “Now mind you, my attempts wouldn’t look nearly this nice...”
With no fuss and very minimal discomfort, Luke snipped, pulled and disposed of the tiny stitches. When he’d removed the last one, he set the miniature scissors and tweezers on the table and once again lightly rubbed the length of the reddened scar with his finger. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to it soothingly. “Mom always said that’ll make it better,” he murmured. He raised his gaze again to watch her.
Claire’s breath caught and she stiffened. The tension between them returned in a flash. “Umm, thanks. I don’t think Dr. Kim could have done a better job.” She gave him a weak smile.
Trying to avoid his scrutiny, Claire gestured toward the computers. “What were you working on? Something to do with surveillance? More boats with too many people?” She spoke a little too quickly.
His eyes remained on her face for a moment longer. Finally he tore them away and shook his head in response. “No.” He pointed to two laptops and a separate desktop tower and monitor. “Those computers are actually my personal ones. I was working on something for my dad and brothers.” He motioned to another computer tower connected to two monitors. The screens were dark, although tiny green blinking lights indicated that they were “on”. “Those are the work computers.”
“Oh. So what are you working on for your family?”
“Actually,” he said, “I’m just helping out a little with a project... From time to time they send me stuff to analyze... You know, beyond Packers and Cowboys, we probably need to talk about some other—um—important things where we may have some differences of opinion.”
“What kinds of things?”
His lips thinned. “Uh...well, for example, are you a super environmentalist or anything?”
She sat back, a bit surprised by the question. “No, not particularly. Of course, I’m concerned about clean air and water and not littering and all... I guess I’m about average. Why do you ask?”
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