Tex Nolan had mixed feelings being back on this ship. Especially now, stood in the Helo bay that used to house her Lab. He'd meant it when he told Tom he blamed himself, blamed them both for her death on their watch. Rachel. He'd also meant it when he told Tom he'd forgiven him, just not himself. It wasn't fair to put that on the Captain. Tom wasn't the one in love with her. He was.
Tex knew Rachel was sweet on him—the Captain that was—hell, Tom Chandler bested odds that made Tex question a slight man-crush. Rachel was a beautiful, brilliant, determined woman. Intelligent enough to see that Chandler wasn't about to move on from his wife. Not that soon. That his career and commitment to Darien took precedence. That the Navy, in a way, was the true love of Tom Chandler's life.
Tex understood that better than anyone.
He'd lost his own wife to 'the job'. She'd divorced him, tired of being second best, tired of him being gone more than he was home—it was a hard thing to explain. But once you were in, once you'd fought on the front lines with your brothers in arms, once you'd seen someone lay down their life for their fellow man—there was no going back. They all belonged to a very select group of people who fully appreciated that bond. That kind of unconditional love and loyalty. Rachel hadn't quite understood that. The regiment, the traditions, the routine. Naw, all that just pissed her off. It was too stuffy for her.
It was hard to be the one left behind if that same patriotism didn't bleed through your own veins. This Sasha girl though? That dynamic puzzled Tex. She meant somethin' else to Tom. Didn't know what at first but he'd picked up on it. Something in the way they moved out on the field like they'd known each other for years. Kept having silent conversations with simple looks. Anticipated each other's words, actions. The way the Captain's eyes lingered.
"She can handle herself?" A question as much as an observation to his friend.
Tom leaned back casually against the truck's bed, and Tex saw the pride when he answered. "With the best of em." —no doubt.
"Good." Tex nodded. Didn't want a repeat. Yes, she could handle a weapon, yes, she could fend for herself. But at the end of the day, Tex was still a country boy at heart, and there was nothing he hated more than the thought of a woman getting hurt on his watch—not how he was raised.
He could see it, watching them now, chatting away in their own little world… he could see it plain as day. A lot had changed in the eight months he'd been gone. Tom must have said something funny because the way she was smiling at him was beautiful, and the content grin on Tom's face, the soft look in his eye, told Tex everything he needed to know.
That boy loved her.
"Dad, mind your own business." Kathleen reprimanded.
He chuckled and stood up. "Whoa."
"Don't forget your extra mags are in your right pocket, not the left." She told him.
"Yes, Ma'am," he said, cocking his gun and loading a round in the chamber—ready to shoot. "Any more advice before we head downrange?"
"Kick some ass."
He smiled proudly. She was his greatest accomplishment in life. Loved her to death. He leaned over and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Roger that." Walked to the other side of the room to grab a couple more things, eyes wandering again despite himself. They were still deep in conversation, gazing at each other like lovestruck teenagers. Tex smiled. Good for him, he thought. He deserved to have someone after all they'd lost.