After Alice’s death, when he stumbled down from the mountains to the Front Range, he hadn’t seen anything but a vast empty prairie, as flat as the top of a stove, bursting with colorful wildflowers that seemed inconsiderate of his pain. The sight offered little solace and even less hope. But he’d had nowhere else to go, and he couldn’t foster the thought of staying in Leadville, where he’d buried his wife and infant son. No, he had to leave it all behind, though the memories trotted after him like a pesky unwanted dog he couldn’t shake off.
Yet, somehow over the last few years, the edge had softened on the pain. Most days. Some days he truly enjoyed his life. He had learned to find fulfillment in his vocation and the simple joy of pleasant acquaintances with those who shared the land. And the wide open space of the Front Range afforded him room to breathe, to heal. The majesty of the mountains as a backdrop, the hard sky so blue it hurt your eyes, and the sweeping panorama of the miles of unspoiled river valley often served as a balm to his wounds.
He only hoped one day the pain and guilt would flow away, the way the golden aspen leaves in the fall danced on the ripples of the river, carried off to faraway places, leaving the bare limbs to sprout new greenery in the spring. He had been similarly stripped bare, his heart numb and raw both, left wondering if he could ever love again. His heart ached for the kind of love he’d shared with Alice, but would he ever again find anyone he could love that much? He hoped so. He knew he couldn’t spend the rest of his life alone like this; he was only twenty-eight.
Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe it was time to open up his heart. At least entertain the possibility. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice the attractive young women that made subtle advances toward him. He appreciated their interest, and he’d be lying if he said their comely smiles and womanly attributes failed to stir his slumbering passion. But none yet had even come close to having that spark of life and vibrant personality that had attracted him to his former wife. And he couldn’t settle for just anyone, no matter how lonely he felt.
No, if he was going to open his heart and be willing to risk pain and love, it would have to be for someone truly meant for him. And somehow he knew he’d know her the moment he laid eyes on her.
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Wild Secret, Wild Longing: A Sweet Historical Western Romance Novella (The Front Range Series Book 3) Page 17