Page 70 of His Forgotten Colton Fiancee
He watched her drink, the little beads of sweat rolling down her temple.
Removing the collapsiblecup from his jacket, he set it down and filled it for Rex, who gulped down the water.
“Feels like I haven’t exercised like that in a long time. But it feels good to get outside, breathe in the fresh air again.” Quinn peered at the cliffs. “So pretty up here. We’re far away from Red Ridge.”
“Town’s that way. Up north.” He felt an ache of regret. She didn’t remember her little saying, either.
You’re my West, she’d told him much later.And my north, south and east.
She was his entire world.
You have a job to do. Concentrate on finding out where Demi Colton is and what Quinn knows.
But he also needed his Quinn back, the woman who gave him slow, deep kisses with fire in her heart, the woman who made him feel like he was more than the job, and could do anything he wanted.West was beginning to tire of the Bureau. He enjoyed his job, and Mike was a damn good boss, but the politics had gotten to him. Being a canine officer limited his career choices in the Bureau.
West was good with dogs, and liked them more than people at times. Being a canine cop had saved his sanity during the times when he couldn’t take the chatter and games people played. You could trustdogs. They were loyal and honest, letting you know what they wanted.
They harbored no secrets. Not like people. Quinn liked dogs for the same reasons.
Did she know where Demi hid?
West drank from the same bottle and then tucked it into his backpack. For a moment they sat in companionable silence, listening to the birds sing in the trees, the wind rustling through the pine boughs andthe distant gurgle of water gushing far below in the canyon.
“North, south, east, west.” She turned to him, a glimmer of something in her pretty eyes. Recognition at last? “You’re my West.”
Relief filled him. Finally. “You remember that.”
Quinn’s excitement died. “I remember that, but nothing else. Why can’t I recall any time with you?”
Unable to help it, he slid close and puthis arm around her. “I don’t know.”
But, hell, it was a start and he’d take it.
When she scrambled to her feet, ready to hike again, he was at her side. Quinn didn’t object when he put a hand on her elbow to steady her as they climbed up the dirt trail. Switchbacks made the ascent easier, but he could tell she was tiring fast. So he turned around, and when she protested she could makeit, insisted they could try again tomorrow.
He talked about the canyon, and how the Badlands got its name from the pioneers and Native Americans who forged lives in this land. “Weather here gets unpredictable, too. Temperatures drop into the forties in summer.”
“Sounds divine after cooking all day. Sometimes I would get so hot I’d dream of the winter, and then when winter came, I’d beglad for the heat of the ovens.” Quinn stopped on the trail, her stick held aloft. “I do love to cook. I think I started my own business because my mother left me on my own a lot, and I had to fend for myself. She was always searching for a new guy to marry. My mother... She didn’t like being single.”
Something new he didn’t know about his Quinn, now that memories of her childhood surged.West ached for the little girl whose mother was too busy to care for her, more concerned with her own personal life than her daughter.
“Did your mom like to cook?” Quinn asked.
An innocent question, one that caused the familiar guilt to surface. But if talking about his childhood helped Quinn recover her memory, he’d go down that painful path.
“My father said my mother could burn water.”He smiled, the memory not quite so painful now. “When they got married, he did all the cooking. Later, when the job meant he’d work long hours, she took classes so she could have a hot meal waiting for him when he got home. Mom taught me to cook, and my sisters. She said a man should learn to make meals and not rely on a woman to do it for him. And then Dad would wink at me and say that hedidn’t marry Mom for her talent in the kitchen, and he could still turn out a better rump roast than she did.”
Quinn laughed. “Your parents sound wonderful.” Her expression turned sad. “I’m sorry you lost your family. Even though it feels like I’ve lost mine as well because I can’t remember them, I can’t imagine how horrible it is to lose all of them in an accident.”
An accident. Westrubbed his chest, remembering the flames, the sirens, the horrified looks of neighbors as his home, his family and his life went up in flames.
“Let’s get back. Going to be dark soon.” He stood, offered his hand, which she took, giving him a puzzled glance.
Damn, he was not ready to discuss his own past, his life. Too busy trying to live in the present, trying to reconcile himself withthe only woman he vowed to love for the rest of his life.
A woman who had no memory of him, but trusted him enough to come here alone. Her level of trust astounded him. Quinn’s values hadn’t changed. She’d always been optimistic, determined to see the best in everyone.
Even a cynical FBI agent who shied away from most people, devoting himself to his work and his canine.
