Her Colorado Man

by Cheryl St. John

  “This is my husband, Wesley Burrows,” Mariah said quickly. Then she introduced Hildy and Philo. “Lettie and I were friends years ago.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss Cox,” Wes said politely.

  “Maybe we can meet for drinks after the play is over,” Lettie suggested.

  “We just happen to have a beer garden on the concourse,” Wes told her. “Bring your friends and be our guests.”

  “A beer garden? Aren’t you the modern ones? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I will see you later then!”

  Philo walked behind Mariah and said in a voice too low for anyone else to overhear, “Your husband is sure free with our beer.”

  He’d always resented her, so his resentment of Wes was a natural extension. Mariah refused to meet Philo’s eyes, but over her shoulder she retorted, “That’s what we’re here for.”

  The intermission ended, and Mariah watched for Lettie during the second half of The Cobbler’s Daughter. The play was a farcical take on a romance between a poor man’s daughter and a governor’s son, with dancing and singing among the townspeople and the factory workers.

  “A boxing match would have held more entertainment value,” Philo said afterward, as they left their seats and made their way through the crowd.

  Wes took Mariah’s hand. “Tell your cousin good-night.”

  Hildy gave Mariah an apologetic shrug. Mariah gave her a quick hug and said goodbye.

  Wes led Mariah out of doors onto the concourse, where he steered them away from the crowd and in the opposite direction of their building. “That man is one of the most cantankerous people I’ve ever met. I have to listen to him at work, but not here.”

  “I know, Wes. I’m sorry. I felt sorry for Hildy. She wanted us to come together. It’s hard for her, being married to him.”

  “Why did she marry him?”

  “I don’t know.” She glanced around. “Where are we going?”

  “Does it matter?”

  The night air felt good on her heated skin. Overhead the stars were bright against the black sky. She dropped her head back and gazed at the constellation above them. “I guess not.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head.

  As they strolled hand in hand, the strains of an orchestra grew louder.

  Mariah had heard the music other evenings, but she’d never investigated where the sound came from. A stage had been constructed since she’d first toured the grounds, and torches framed a rectangle lined by tables. In the center was a smooth wooden dance floor. Several couples danced in time to the transporting music.

  “Would you like to dance?” Wes asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said evasively. “I haven’t danced for a long time.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Just for fun. C’mon.”

  She let him draw her forward into the circle of light and onto the floor with the other couples.

  The musicians played a spirited song she recognized as “They Say I Am Nobody’s Darling,” and she had only to follow Wes’s steps as he led her around the floor in a smooth two-step.

  “I didn’t know you could dance so well.” She beamed up at him.

  “There are probably still quite a few things you don’t know about me,” he replied with a sly wink.

  She couldn’t help a girlish giggle of pleasure.

  “The Flowers Will Bloom in May” was a lively waltz, with a tempo that slowed and picked up between the verses and chorus. By the time the song ended, no one remained sitting or standing on the sides. When it ended, Wes guided her onto the soft grass and away from the crowd. Perspiration cooled on her skin, and she fanned herself with her reticule.

  They stood behind a row of tents. Not far away, crickets chirped in the grass along the fence. Mariah had never known a night so engaging or complete or carefree. She owed the new experience to Wes. Before he’d come, she’d only worked and ate and slept, without thinking of taking time for other things that were equally important. John James needed Wes’s influence. She needed his influence.

  She needed him.

  The admission was unlocked from somewhere deep inside where she’d fiercely guarded her independence. She thought of the night before, remembered lying in bed with her head cradled on his chest. She’d felt so safe, so peaceful.

  Other thoughts were quick to surface. How long could a security built on lies last? A month? A year or more? A lifetime? But then what guarantee did anyone have when they entered into marriage?

  “I suppose we should go see if the guests I invited have arrived,” he said.

  Apprehension fluttered at the thought of seeing and talking to Lettie again. Mariah stopped walking, but didn’t release his hand.

  He turned back to her. “Something wrong?”

  “Not with you. Or with me. Or with this perfect night. I wish it didn’t have to end.”

  He framed her shoulders with his strong hands.

  She tipped her head back and looked up at him. “I wish this was how our life could be.”

  “Not every day can be about dancing and standing under the moon,” he told her.

  She closed her eyes with regret.

  “But every day can be about love.” He drew a line across her collarbone with his fingertip, sending shivers skittering along her skin. “Do you think love could get us through the rest of our days?”

  “I—I don’t—don’t know,” she stammered.

  “You don’t know if you love me?” He voiced the question in a low, soul-disturbing tone.

  The crickets stopped chirping and her heart took over their cadence. A silken flood of emotion chugged through her veins and spilled over. Wes reached up and wiped a warm trickle of tears from her cheek with his thumb. She hadn’t realized the moisture had been there until he did that.

  He was a good man. Kind. Tender. A man who was easy to love. “I do know,” she said.

  He eased back a fraction to look into her eyes. His expression in the moonlight asked, “And?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  How could all this be so easy for him? “Have you done this before? Told a woman you loved her?”

  He shook his head.

  “Have you loved someone?”

  “I thought I loved a lot of women when I was young and foolish,” he told her. “Loved them all, in fact.”

  “Maybe this is like that.”

  “This is nothing like that.” His tone had changed. “You’re avoiding answering.”

  “This isn’t easy for me.”

  He released her, and she immediately felt a sense of loss. “Okay.” He took a step back. “Plenty of people get married for reasons other than love, and it works out just fine. I can still make it right and be a father to John James. So long as we’re honest and I don’t expect more than you’re willing to share, I think we can make it work. It’s up to you, of course.”

  He turned toward the concourse.

  “Just stop!” Mariah called out.

  Halting, he faced her.

  “Don’t be in such a hurry.”

  “I’m not in a hurry,” he replied. “I’m not going to push you. You have your reasons, whatever they are—”

  She leaned toward him. “Let me say it.”

  He turned over a palm in waiting silence.

  “You’re maddening and frustrating, and I never know how to act around you. But you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met, and you’ve been so good to John James that I could cry when I see how he looks at you. If you ever left it would break his heart, and yes, I admit it would break my heart, but I don’t see how a life with us can ever compare to what you’ve done and all you know and have seen.

  “When I saw you holding Gabby Turner’s baby, my insides turned to jelly, and I wanted to cry because John James never ever knew a father like that. He loves you so much. I don’t think it’s too late for him. He can still grow up with a father.

  “That’s not even the reason I would agree to your proposal, though. I couldn’t
marry a man I didn’t care for, and it wouldn’t be fair to let you love me one-sided if I thought that was so.

  “All of this is out of my experience. Just hearing you say those words…well, that’s amazing to me—and frightening, too.”

  She shook her head as though to clear it. “It’s a big responsibility to have someone love you, isn’t it?”

  Wes remained silent, allowing her to speak what was on her heart and on her mind.

  “I think…” Her voice didn’t sound like her own. “I think love could get us through all the rest of our days, like you said. But only if we love each other for who we are and not what we want or expect.” In these moments, while she was being honest with herself, it became clear. She shouldn’t have to forfeit her whole life because of one terrible life-changing night.

  “I don’t have any problem with who you are, Mariah. I don’t care about your past. If you can put it behind you, I’m sure I can. You’ve already given me more than I ever expected.”

  “And you won’t ask?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I’m a happy man.”

  She gave a little wave to hold him in place. “Stand right there when I say this part,” she said.

  He nodded in the moonlight.

  “What I feel for you isn’t like my love for my family. But it’s deep. I ache inside when I think I might not be able to be the woman you deserve.” She held up a palm when he started forward, so he stopped. “But I want to be, and that’s what hurts me the most. I want to be the woman you love, but I don’t know how. I’m caught in this place where I can’t bear to hurt my son, and I can’t bear to hurt you. Because I love you both so much.

  “I love you, Wes. I love you. And I’ve never said it or felt it before. Ever.”

  “Mariah.” The gruffly spoken word was a plea to release him so he could reach for her.

  She flung herself at him. Dropping her reticule to the ground, she wrapped her arms around his neck and met him in a crush of seeking lips and breathless sighs. She wanted to show him how much she needed him, how desperate she was to start a new life together.

  He tasted as wonderful and safe as she remembered. When she kissed him, she forgot everything, everyone, and simply lived…loved…felt. She’d cut herself off from feeling for a long time. Loving Wes was like gaining a new life.

  Wes eased away mere inches. “So you’ll marry me then?”

  “I’ll marry you,” she replied.

  “We can do it here in Denver, where no one knows us.”

  “When?” she asked.

  “Tonight? Tomorrow?”

  She clung to him, and he swung her in a circle under the stars. There was more she had to figure out—more she had to either tell him—or make sure he would never press her about, but for now she was the happiest she’d been since the first moment she’d held John James in her arms.

  “We are really late for our own party now,” he said.

  She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go!”

  The smile he gave her lightened her spirits even more. As they ran toward their building, she barely felt her feet touch the ground.

  The actors and actresses had removed their stage makeup, but were still larger than life as they mingled with the Spanglers and patrons. Marc and Faye greeted Wes and Mariah with a wave and a smile.

  Wes tried to blend them into the crowd as though they’d been there all along. Mariah clung to his hand, and whenever they glanced at each other, she couldn’t hold back a broad smile.

  Lettie found her and introduced them to her friends in the theater troupe. “Your beer is superb,” one of the men said. “I am assuming the lagering process is what gives it a more full-bodied taste.”

  Wes explained the boil and mash, attracting a few other men and a couple of women.

  Philo stood to the side with a mug of beer, observing the different groups of people. Mariah had hoped he would have gone back to the hotel. A quick search, and she spotted Hildy in a small gathering. It was unusual that Philo wasn’t holding her at his side.

  Lettie drew Mariah aside for a moment of privacy. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

  “I have a son,” Mariah answered right off. “His name is John James.”

  Lettie smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Wesley is his father.”

  “I’m happy for you.” The young woman got tears in her eyes. “I don’t know where my little girl ended up. She got a good family, though, and that’s all that matters.”

  Mariah’s heart went out to Lettie and the choice she’d been forced to make. Mariah couldn’t imagine her life without her son, and she couldn’t comprehend not knowing where he was or what had happened to him. Even with the turmoil that had resulted from bringing him home and telling the lie about a husband, her life could have been a lot worse.

  Lettie’s surprise appearance had seemed threatening at first, but Mariah appreciated that they shared similar experiences. Their months in Chicago bound them together. Lettie could have passed her by at the theater and Mariah wouldn’t have recognized her, but she’d made a point of reconnecting. Mariah trusted her with their confidences.

  Lettie didn’t want her pain or humiliation pointed out any more than Mariah did. But she was still a reminder of a bittersweet time. Mariah vowed to be more appreciative of John James and her entire family.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Mariah noticed that Philo had moved and was paying more than polite attention to a redheaded actress with a bright yellow scarf wrapped around her slender neck. The woman was pretty and curvaceous, with red-painted lips and a low-cut neckline. He said something to her with a leering smile. She frowned and moved away. Hildy remained absorbed by another conversation and didn’t notice. From their positions several feet apart, Mariah exchanged a glance with Wes.

  Marc noticed Philo’s behavior and moved to stand beside his brother-in-law. Philo gave him a scorching look, then glanced around. When he spotted his wife, he made a beeline to her side and grabbed her by the arm.

  A couple walked into Mariah’s line of vision. She leaned to see around them, but by then Hildy and Philo were gone.

  Wes joined Mariah and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Tonight?” he asked.

  She smiled. “We have to wait for the courthouse to open to get a license.”

  “What time do they open?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered with a laugh.

  “I should have asked you today.”

  She turned around and looked up into the face she had come to love. “I’d say your timing was perfect.”

  Wes couldn’t have been more pleased that Mariah had agreed to marry him. It had never been his intention to create a difficult situation for her, but he had to be honest with himself: Coming to this state and insinuating himself into her life—into her family—had been pushy. He’d been thinking of the boy—and yes, selfishly himself—but he hadn’t counted on the number of people who would be affected.

  He could make this right by being a good husband to Mariah and a father to John James. He couldn’t let himself question the ethical questions that might be raised. His motivation had been pure from the beginning.

  When finally the theater people left, he got a buggy from the stable. “I haven’t rushed you or bullied you into this decision, have I? You have time to think it through, and I promise to stand back and give you room, no matter what you choose.”

  “Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” she asked.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m having second thoughts about rushing you.”

  “I told you I wouldn’t marry you if I didn’t have feelings for you. And I do. It just took me a while to calm down enough to recognize that. I love you, Wes.”

  He wrapped one arm around her, holding the reins with the other. In front of the hotel, she said, “You can pay one of these young fellows like last time.”

  He gave a couple of coins to a lad who took over the horse and bug
gy. Wes carried his jacket over one arm and they held hands up the stairway, pausing at the landing for Wes to draw her close and kiss her. She had promised to marry him, and she wanted to more than anything. She desired every aspect of a loving relationship. She had the desire, and in her head she knew it was possible. She hoped with all her being that the rest of her was as willing to go along.

  “John James has been asleep for hours,” she told him. “We probably shouldn’t bother Faye and the children by stopping to wake him.”

  “You can get him first thing in the morning.” He knew how much she’d missed him, but something in her voice made him wonder if she was suggesting they let John James sleep for another reason. So they would be alone?

  They’d been alone many nights in their hotel room as well as at home, but now…

  She turned and he followed her the rest of the way up the stairs. When she cast him a questioning look, he realized they stood in front of the door to their room, and she was waiting for him to produce the key.

  He unlocked the door and ushered her inside. She didn’t move toward the matches or the gaslight as she normally did. She rested her handbag on the top of the bureau.

  He hung his suit coat over the back of a chair and stood in front of her. “It’s okay, you know. I’m fine waiting.”

  The light from the streetlamps and the moon shone through the open drapery, so she was visible as she turned toward him. “I know you are.” She stepped closer. “And that’s probably why I trust you.”

  “What do you trust me with?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “You’re not going to understand this.”

  He bracketed her shoulders with his hands. “I’ll try.”

  She placed her palm flat against the front of his shirt, and he wrapped her delicate hand in his. “I’ve seen what some of my family members have with their husbands and wives. The way they touch and share secret smiles.”

  “Annika and Robert,” he said. He’d noticed her sister and her husband, too. He’d picked up on enough to guess that Mariah had had a bad experience, but she wasn’t going to tell him about it until—when and if—she was ready. All he could do was show her by his words and deeds that he was worthy of her trust.