Colorado Hope(23)

Flustered, Malcolm pulled back, his face flushed. He dropped his gaze in embarrassment as a giggle carried to him on the air.

“Please,” he whispered, “we’ve just arrived. I don’t want to make a scene.”

Her pout deepened into a frown of chastisement, and Malcolm felt a stab of irritation. Why did she do such things in public? She knew it made him uneasy. Sometimes she seemed downright oblivious to her brash behavior. He blew out a breath and rubbed his neck.

He watched her sashay down the boardwalk, admiring her figure but concerned over the way she brought attention to her femininity. Men on both sides of the street swiveled heads and watched his wife with appraising gazes. He thought about how uneasy he’d felt with her living with him in the cabin. But he’d needed care, and she refused to move into Greeley and find them separate accommodations. Although she made up a bed for herself, saying she respected his decision to wait until they married before they were intimate, he’d often had to struggle painfully to restrain himself. Having her in such close quarters—with her dressing and bathing, and often paying little mind as to whether he was awake or watching her—caused him great distress. He’d wanted to take more time to get to know her all over again, hoping his memory would start returning, but the agony of being with her day after day and not touching her was more than he could bear.

At times she’d lain next to him on the bed, stroked his chest, dropped tender kisses along his neck. Her passion simmered, but his boiled. Finally, he could stand it no longer. By the time he could walk without pain—three months after his injury—she ushered him to the Greeley Courthouse, where they were married without friends or fanfare. Finally, they could consummate their union   without reserve, and oh, what a joyous feeling to be able to engage in such passionate embrace. But underneath all his joy lay an unsettling feeling. For every time he held Stella in his arms, something felt terribly wrong. He couldn’t explain it, and he dared not say anything to her, for fear it would greatly upset her. All he could do was chalk it up to his memory loss and trust that, in time, the feeling would dissipate.

Truth was, he didn’t really feel any love for her. He must have at some point in his life—for why would he have proposed to her, and traveled with her to start their married life together in the West? Even though he couldn’t recall his own name, he knew he was a man of honor, and he had promised her he’d marry and provide for her. How could he renege on such a promise and break her heart? Still, he wished they had waited, and although he knew it was the proper thing to do, guilt and shame over his lack of self-control ate at him. But what man could resist such a woman?

He breathed out a long sigh. He was only human. And maybe in time, that love he once had—that Stella had recounted to him with such passion—would reawaken.

He walked over to the land office, nodding politely as curious townspeople greeted him with a smile or tip of their hat. With the railroad scheduled to come to Fort Collins inside of a year, the town was booming. He’d passed two large sawmills while riding into town, which sported lumberyards chockful of milled boards stacked in neat piles, and a two-story brick kiln and a flour mill. The population, now bursting out of the city boundaries, would require new streets and new homes—or so he’d read in the Greeley Tribune. He hoped he could get a job at the land office, or with the surveyor. He’d read that they were short staffed, and the town, recently platted, would be expanding in all directions. Already a college had been built that would presently open its doors to students. An up-and-coming town, and Malcolm was glad to be a part of its infancy. No doubt it would grow to be an impressive county seat.

Although he had no memory telling him why he wanted to come to Fort Collins, of all towns in the West, his heart sang out in joy as he took in the sight of the majestic snow-packed Rockies, a picturesque backdrop to the town, with the vast open space of the Front Range spreading to the east. He drew in a deep breath, and a longing for mountains streamed through his veins like a river. His heart beat hard and powerful in his chest as he thought of climbing the peaks towering before him, exploring unchartered regions, and looking over vistas of flower-studded alpine valleys.

The images felt like memories, but he couldn’t put names to the places he envisioned. Were they real? Had he been there? He couldn’t see how, if he’d been living in a city all his life. He once suggested to Stella he try to get in touch with people he knew back in St. Louis. Maybe seeing other faces from his past would jar his memory, but Stella had been insistent he refrain. It would only add to his frustration to try to recapture the past, she’d told him. They had their whole lives ahead of them—a brand-new life and one they’d planned for so long. And now—here they were.