Chapter 79- More Than A Serge
*The bulk of the inspiration for this chapter came from a question I poised to the Suspenders Unbuttoned Facebook group a week or so ago. Asking when you think of Nathan getting married… do you picture him in the suit or serge? There was so much great feedback and some great lines that I chose to include in Charlotte and Nathan's discussion in this chapter. Thank you all for the thoughts and laughs in our very lively discussion. I love this community.
"You are as demanding as any sergeant I experienced in training," Nathan grumbled.
"I'll take that as a compliment, Constable Grant. They seemed to have made you into a fine Mountie. I'm hoping with my help and these therapy sessions we can get you back to chopping wood in no time." Charlotte sat behind Nathan on the bed. One hand on his bicep, her other on his shoulder supporting him through the exercises. "Now, can you give me five more shoulder raises?"
Nathan groaned. "Good thing I find you prettier than any of the sergeants I experienced in training."
"I will also take that as a compliment."
Charlotte's rich and full laugh came forth from behind him. Nathan couldn't see her face, but he knew the smile that always accompanied the particular laugh she was producing.
"What if I promise a reward worthy of your arduous efforts?" Her voice was husky in his ear as she leaned closer.
Nathan's body hummed. Charlotte seemed to know exactly what to tempt him with to make the discomfort he felt in his shoulder while doing these physical therapy sessions, all but disappear. "What sort of reward are we talking about, Ms. Thompson?"
"I was thinking of making some beef and barley soup and homemade rolls tonight. Just for the two of us. Allie and Maise have been invited over to the Coulter's for dinner. Seems as though they have wedding plans to discuss."
Nathan twisted slightly to look back at Charlotte's face. "I hope you don't mind. It seems as though your wedding day has been stolen away..."
"It hasn't been stolen. Far from it. When Beck and I were engaged for that short time, I never could bring myself to make any wedding plans. First off, I knew deep down, Beck was…" Charlotte's voice cracked. "Secondly, I felt so alone. All my family was gone. I didn't have any friends around. It just didn't seem… special."
Charlotte noticed Nathan bristle at the memory of her engagement to Beck. She shifted closer to his back, encircling her arms around Nathan's torso, inhaling his familiar scent. "Now though, not only are we going to be surrounded by everyone who loves us and wants to see us happy. They are willing to jump through hoops to ensure that the wedding day is memorable."
"I just want to make sure it's everything you've dreamed of for your big day. I know a woman's wedding is usually something she's envisioned for many years. I want to make it perfect for you. Not a result of what is perfect in the eyes of Allie, Rosemary, or my mother."
Charlotte squeezed her arms tighter around Nathan as he used his good hand to rub gently along her forearm around his stomach. "I guess, I'm different from most."
"Don't I know it," Nathan chuckled.
She gave him a playful peck on the cheek and rested her head against his. "I've never really envisioned what my wedding day would look like. Honestly, I would have been more than happy to marry you the other day when Joseph offered to get his Book of Common Prayer."
"Are you disappointed we didn't?"
"A little, yes. Because then you would already be my husband," Charlotte smiled. "For now, I will enjoy these few months when I get to call you, my fiancé."
"If you want, I can talk to mom and Allie about not running away with the planning."
"I know you would and that's just one more reason I love you. But if I feel like they are getting out of hand, and I don't know… if I hear rumblings along the lines of Allie convincing Rosemary to order an elephant from Africa that I will be riding to the church on… I promise, you and I can both step in to disrupt those ideas from ever seeing the light of day."
It was Nathan's turn to laugh as he envisioned the scene Charlotte described.
"Nathan," Charlotte stood and moved so she sat in front of him on the edge of the bed. Taking his hands into hers, she continued. "I want you to stop talking about this as my day. It is our wedding. The day we become husband and wife. This isn't about me. This is about us. It shouldn't just be about what I want. What do you want? Have you ever pictured what your wedding day would look like? What is the Mounties' stance on weddings anyway? Is it full regalia and all the pomp and circumstance?"
Nathan knew Charlotte was teasing, but he had given some thought to all this. "I could wear the serge, but for our wedding, I was thinking of something different. If you are okay with that."
He noted Charlotte's slight twist of her head. Nathan had piqued her interest. She gently squeezed his hands, urging him to continue. "I haven't been invited to many weddings. Even fewer where it's a fellow Mountie getting married. In those I have attended though, yes, the groom usually wears his official dress serge. It is a formal, military-regulated occasion. A North West Mounted Police wedding is a big deal. A production really, but... that's not me."
Nathan's head dropped and his gaze fell to where Charlotte's thumbs were grazing over the back of his knuckles in reassurance. "I have pride in being a Mountie. It's important to me, but it's a career. It's not who I am. On our wedding day, I think I want to be seen as the person I am, not the position I'm in. On the day I marry you, I want to be seen as me. Not Constable Grant, but Nathan Grant."
Charlotte's eyes glistened as she reached a hand forward and placed it over Nathan's heart, absorbing its rapid beats through her palm. "Nathan, do you remember what I told you in Brookfield when you asked if I was afraid of being with you? With a Mountie? Especially after what happened to Jack Thornton?"
Charlotte felt Nathan's tension soften at the memory. "I told you that being a Mountie is only a part of who you are. The job does not make the man. The uniform doesn't define who you are to me. You, Nathan Grant, are so… much… more… than the red serge. This man," Charlotte tapped her hand gently on his chest. "The one beneath the uniform… is the one I fell in love with."
Charlotte moved her other hand to lift Nathan's chin so she could look into his piercing blue eyes. "I know in the past, you've felt that others have only seen you as a Mountie, but whoever only saw that is a fool. They didn't know you, Nathan. You are more than a serge. You are a legend, not because of your standing with the Mounties. You're a legend, because of the man you are. The man who became a dad to his four-year-old niece. The man who answered the call to protect the widow and orphan of a fallen comrade. The man who saw a broken woman and made her whole again with his supportive, unwavering, steadfast love. Nathan, please know, I will always see you as the man you are. The man you have always been to me. My lifetime love. Today… at our wedding… and every other day of my life. I see you. Never doubt that."
She leaned in to kiss Nathan, sliding her lips across his in a soft, reassuring caress. Undemanding. Gentle. Charlotte wanted to show, not just tell Nathan, how much he meant to her.
When Charlotte pulled back from the kiss, Nathan could feel the small smile that crept along his face. "I'll take that kiss as you are okay with me wearing a suit to our wedding?"
"You look good in the serge, Grant, but if I'm being honest, you are even more handsome in a suit. Plus, I think it may be a better fit for our more intimate occasion. You and I are simple people. We don't need glitz and glamour. We just need each other and the people who have supported us. In the suit, our guests will be getting the real, complete you. As for me, I know the man I'm marrying. You can wear your pajamas and an old, worn-out bathrobe and still make it look like a custom-made silk suit in my eyes."
"Now who needs their vision checked?" Nathan joked.
Charlotte chuckled. "My only request is that you wear something blue, to bring out these gorgeous eyes."
"I think that can be arranged."
"Oh! One other request. Wear comfortable shoes. I know you've complained about those Strathcona high-brown boots a time or two being confining and I plan on keeping my husband occupied on the dance floor for most of the night. You've been warned." Charlotte winked, lightening the mood, and placing one more playful kiss on Nathan's cheek. "How about we get back to the task at hand? Now, can you give me the last five shoulder raises I asked for?"
After the therapy session, Nathan was usually tired, so Charlotte tucked him into bed and used the opportunity to return to her row house to make their dinner for the night, while he rested and recuperated.
Charlotte could tell Nathan was getting stronger each and every day. Carson confirmed it when following their therapy session this afternoon, he gave them hope that if they continued making these small improvements and Nathan's wound kept healing the way it was, Nathan could possibly be released from the hospital in a few more days. Of course, arrangements would need to be made for his continued care, but the glimmer of hope for a small sense of normalcy to come back into their lives, was something Nathan and Charlotte were clinging desperately to.
She was finishing packing their dinner of the promised beef and barley soup and rolls, as well as a surprise batch of snickerdoodle cookies, when a knock sounded from outside. Charlotte made her way to the window by her wood burning stove. Drawing the curtain to the side, she peaked out the glass. The sun had recently fallen over the mountains to the west casting the landscape into dark shadows, but Charlotte could faintly see someone moving around on the Grant's front porch. Another knock sounded. More forceful than the first.
Charlotte grabbed a shawl from the hook by her front door and twisting the knob stepped out onto her porch. "Excuse me sir. Can I help you?"
The man on Nathan's steps turned to face her. Charlotte could barely make out his features in the low light drifting from inside her house.
"You must be Charlotte."