An April Bride by Lenora Worth Page B

this wall and put in a little café.” She shrugged. “When I told her I thought the Denhams would be great at running it, she agreed. And here we are.”
    Marshall put his hand up to his mouth to hide his next words. “Don’t be so modest,” he whispered. “He told me you saved both of them by creating a new purpose for them after their only son died in a car accident.”
    Stella was surprised, and a little gasp escaped before she could control herself. “He said that?”
    Marshall nodded. “Just a minute ago when you were still standing over there and I was already over here. I think it might have been during that minute when you were wondering what you’d gotten yourself into, sticking with a man who can’t even remember who you are. Am I right?”
    Stella looked everywhere but into his eyes. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she went back to the subject of the Denhams. “They were depressed and lonely, and I hated seeing the hurt in their eyes, so yes, I might have had ulterior motives but . . . we’ve all benefited from it. They’re here most days, and when they want to travel or take a few days off, they have a well-trained staff to help, including my mother at times and even my aunt.”
    He grabbed her hand. Stella finally scanned his face, thinking he was upset with her. “What?”
    Marshall’s smile was indulgent and real. A real smile, just for her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
    Stella waited to respond until the waitress placed their food on the table. “What . . . what do you mean?”
    “You’re a kind, considerate person, Stella. Anyone can see that, even old amnesiac me. You go out of your way to make me comfortable and to spare my feelings.” He held her hand. “But don’t think you’re fooling me one bit. I’ve seen how this situation has hurt you.”
    “I’m fine,” she said while she blinked back tears. “Really, I’ll be okay.” If you still want to marry me.
    “Will you?” he asked, his eyes full of questions and his words reflecting her feelings. “Do you still want to marry me, Stella? Or are you just going along with this because it’s too late to turn back?”

M arshall saw the pain in Stella’s pretty face. This was a woman who always had a positive outlook on life. But having him back in her life had shaken her to the core. How could it not?
    He stared across the little round table, the steaming bowl of chili forgotten in front of him. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can postpone the wedding or . . . not get married at all.”
    “You don’t want to marry me, do you?”
    The hurt and shock in her eyes made Marshall feel like a first-class loser. “I don’t know what I want right now. It’s hard to piece together so many shredded memories. My therapist thinks I have what they call hysterical amnesia.”
    Stella gave him a sympathetic look. “I read up on that and every other kind of amnesia. I’m trying to do what I can to help jar your memories. Am I pushing too hard, too fast?”
    “No,” he replied. “You’ve been great. Everything you’vedone, all the places you’ve shown me, that’s helped put some of the pieces in place.” He shrugged and finally starting eating. “I’ve always liked things in order. I like control and a plan. I get that in the Army. I can remember football games where I’d study the plays over and over so I’d have a certain picture in my mind. I can’t do that now. Now it’s just a blank page. Nothing.”
    She toyed with her salad and then finally put down her fork. “I’m trying to help you fill in those pages,” she said, her head down, her fingers clutching a cracker. “But if you don’t want to go back to . . . us . . . I can understand. You’ve been through so much.”
    “I want to go through something good, something solid and sure,” he retorted. “I made a promise to you before I left, and I intend to carry through on that promise.”
    The cracker fell to her plate. “Because