Montana Lawman Rescuer

“Don’t worry. I’ll find something. I’ll go ask the preacher’s wife to help.” He ignored her protest as he headed for the door.

His grandmother waved him away. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Little Mikey is content to play with the toys.”

Jesse shifted direction and knelt in front of the boy, recalling how lost he’d felt when his mother left him. Mikey was with strangers and a woman who didn’t remember him. It had to be frightening. He patted Mikey’s head.

Mikey looked at him solemnly.

“You’re a good little boy,” Jesse said.

“’Kay.” Mikey studied him a moment. “Mem, mem, mem.”

Jesse wondered if the boy meant to say Emily or was he asking for his mama.

He nodded. “’Kay.”

His answer seemed to satisfy the boy, who returned to the toys. Jesse left the house and headed toward the church and the manse that stood next door to it. It hadn’t rained as hard in town as it had at the robbery site, which was unfortunate for his search efforts. He said hello to Evan, the preacher’s four-year-old son who played in the yard with his dog, and then knocked on the door.

Annie opened and greeted him. “Hi, Jesse.”

Annie’s maiden name was Marshall. Jesse had been best friends with her brother, Conner, for more years than he cared to count. Annie was like a sister to him. Funny to think that all three of her brothers were now married and she had married the preacher.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Come on in and tell me what it is.”

He followed her into the kitchen, accepted a cup of coffee and helped himself to the cookies she offered. Hugh came from his adjoining office.

“Good, you’re both here. Saves me having to tell the story twice.” He explained about the stagecoach robbery and finding Emily with no memory and young Mikey who couldn’t tell them anything.

“All their belongings are gone. I hoped—”

“Say no more. I’ll gather up enough for her and the boy. How big is she?”

“She comes to about here.” He indicated his shoulder. “She’s slender. Too big for anything of Gram’s, too small for yours.”

Annie studied Jesse intently a moment.

He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in her busy mind.

“How old is she?”

“Annie, how would I know? She can’t remember.”

“Give it your best guess. I need to know what sort of clothes she’d like to wear.”

“I’d say she was about your age.” Annie had recently turned twenty. “Give or take a year or two.” He tried to think what else he could tell Annie that might be of help. “She’s wearing a blue top like yours and a dark skirt. Just ordinary clothes.”

Again Annie’s study of him lasted a heartbeat longer than was comfortable. What did she think she saw or understood?

She nodded as if she’d made up her mind about something. “And the boy?”

“Says he’s almost—” He held up three fingers as had Mikey. “Smaller than Evan. It must be an awful feeling not to remember who you are.”

Annie leaned closer, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe this is an answer to my prayers.”

He sat back and stared at her. “You prayed the stagecoach would be robbed?” He shifted his gaze to Hugh. “Did you know this?”

Hugh squeezed Annie’s hand, giving her an adoring look. “I think you better explain things.”

Annie brought her gaze back to Jesse. “Of course I didn’t pray that, silly. I’ve been praying a young woman would come into your life.”

Jesse stared at her. “You can’t mean—she might be married for all we know.” He recalled her worry about having done something wrong. “You haven’t even seen her and yet you—” He shook his head, stunned at her words. “We don’t know who she is and she can’t remember. She might be hiding, for all we know.”

“I think who she is when she can’t remember is who she really is. No masks. Nothing to hide. Just the real Emily. Perhaps more real than the person she is when she can remember all the things that have happened to her.”

He stared at her. Could she be right? “It makes no difference in any case. My job is to apprehend the robbers and take care of Emily and Mikey until we can see them safely to their destination. I have no other interest in them. And I can’t think why you’d suggest otherwise. You know how I feel about women.”

She dismissed his protest with a wave of her hand. “A good woman would change your mind, but I understand you have reason not to trust them.”

He tried not to sputter. The trouble was, she knew too much about him. But her judgment was way off. “Your grandfather is the matchmaker in your family. One is quite enough, don’t you think?”

She laughed. “I’m sure he’ll do his share. But never mind. Perhaps I am being premature.”

“Perhaps?”

“I’ll come and see for myself what kind of woman she is.”

“Now, wait a minute.”

“I need to see both of them to know what size clothing they need.”

“I thought I told you enough.” He didn’t want her coming over. As soon as she saw Emily she would decide she was more than suitable. After all, she was a beautiful woman and, if the way she treated Mikey was any indication, a kind one, too.

But who was she? The question had to be answered before any of them could make a judgment about her.

* * *

Emily tried to tell herself she wasn’t anxious for Jesse to return. But she would be lying. Yes, she hoped he would bring her something to wear besides her soiled shirtwaist and skirt. But even if he brought back nothing, she found his presence steadying. And why shouldn’t she? He was the sheriff. His job meant she was safe with him and he would do everything he could do to help her.

She sat at the table peeling potatoes for the evening meal. At first, Mrs. Whitley had refused her help but Emily insisted. “There’s no point in sitting about trying to remember who I am. Far better to be busy.”

The older woman had agreed, on the condition that Emily sit to work. “Jesse would have my hide if anything happened while he’s gone. That boy takes his responsibilities very seriously.” She looked out the window and waved as someone passed in the alley, then continued. “You might even say he is overly conscientious. Now, I don’t mean just about doing his job, but about life in general. He has impossibly high expectations of others so he is often disappointed.” She gave a sad shake of her head.

Emily didn’t know if she meant the words as a warning, but Emily took them that way. What if she had committed a crime or contributed to one? Why else would she have such a worry? And if she had, Jesse would be...well, not disappointed because he had no reason to trust her or have expectations of her. She’d already wondered aloud in his presence if she might be guilty of something.

But what could she have done? She tried to think of holding a gun and using it for evil, but it didn’t feel as though she knew how to shoot a gun, let alone use it to harm someone.

The outer door clicked. She heard Jesse murmur something as he stepped inside.

Muffin, who had been sitting on the floor watching Mikey play, barked then whined and bounded for the door.

A female voice greeted the dog.

Jesse had a sweetheart? Well, of course he did. Emily just hadn’t considered it.

He stepped into the kitchen with a tall woman at his side. A stunningly beautiful woman with blue eyes to rival a clear sky and hair the color of the sun.

Emily sat very still, feeling mousy in contrast.

“Hello, Gram. How are you?”

“Hello, Annie.”

Jesse turned Annie to face Emily. “Emily, this is my good friend, Annie Arness. She’s the preacher’s wife. She’s promised to find you something to wear, and Mikey, too. Mikey, say hello to Mrs. Arness.”

“’Lo.” Muffin had returned to his side and Mikey clutched at the dog’s back.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Emily said. Annie was married to the preacher?

“Likewise.” Annie turned to Jesse. “You didn’t tell me she was beautiful.”

Jesse gave the woman a look so full of warning it surprised Emily that she didn’t lose her smile. Instead, she chuckled. “I’ll behave myself. Don’t worry.”

“You better.”

Emily recalled his grandmother’s words about him having high expectations of others and wondered if Annie had disappointed him.

Annie turned her attention back to Emily. “I am sorry to hear of your misfortune, and both my husband and I will pray you regain your memory quickly.” She clapped her hands together. “In the meantime, I’ll take care of finding you some fresh clothing. Jesse, where’s my bag?”

Jesse held forth a valise and Annie took it from him.

“I brought a few of Evan’s things that are too small for him.” She pulled out two pairs of overalls, three little shirts, nightwear, socks and other necessities. “I think they’ll fit Mikey okay. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything handy that would be your size. Jesse said you were taller than Gram, here, and shorter than me.”

Emily’s head began to hurt at the rapid delivery of Annie’s words.

Jesse caught Annie’s arm. “Emily needs to rest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll return with a few things.” She slipped away.

Emily called her thanks then closed her eyes. She heard the chair next to hers being pulled out. A warm hand touched her elbow.

“Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes and looked into Jesse’s concerned face. She would have nodded but knew the movement would hurt, so she whispered, “I’m as good as can be expected, I suppose.”

He chuckled. “The doc would be proud of your answer.”

She grinned, already feeling better.

Mrs. Whitley moved a pot on the stove. The scraping sound reminded Emily she had offered to help prepare supper.

“I need to finish peeling the potatoes.” Emily picked up the knife to resume her task. She felt Jesse’s study and paused to look at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He jerked his gaze to the basin of potato peelings.

Mrs. Whitley chuckled. “He’s pretending he hadn’t noticed that you are, indeed, beautiful.”

Heat stole up Emily’s neck and stalled at her cheeks. “I’m a mess, and I know it. My clothes are grubby and no doubt my hair is untidy. I can’t remember who I am.” A sob choked off the last of her words and she clamped her lips together. She would not cry. It made her look weak and needy.

“Everything will be okay.” Jesse sounded so reassuring she allowed herself to believe him. Any minute she would wake up and remember exactly who she was and where she was going.

She pushed aside the swirling darkness her thoughts caused, finished peeling the potatoes and handed the pot to Mrs. Whitley.

The older woman thanked her. “Jesse, why don’t you take Emily and Mikey outside? Sitting in the sun will do them both good. A change of scenery might help her feel better. Take Muffin with you, too. She needs to go out for a bit.”

“Good idea.”

Emily wondered if they’d had the same thought as she...something outside might trigger her memory.

The dog had already rushed to the door at the mention of her name. Jesse reached out a hand to invite Mikey along. He waited at the door for her to join them.

Emily got to her feet, pleased that she felt no dizziness, and went to his side. He took her hand. He might have done so to make sure she didn’t fall. She might have let him for the very same reason or it might be she found courage and strength in the way he held her as he led her to a bench by the side of the house. She hadn’t been able to see it from the windows. Nor had she seen the little shed at the end of the wide stoop.

He sat beside her.

Mikey chased Muffin across the small patch of grass, giggling with joyful abandon.

She took in the flowers against the weathered picket fence, the shade-providing trees, the vegetable garden and the bushes, and relaxed with a sigh. “Everything about this place is serene. Your grandmother has a special touch.”

“My gram is a special person.”

“I can see that. So...you live with your grandmother?”

* * *

Jesse startled at her question. People didn’t often ask him about why he lived with Gram. Those he considered friends knew. But he didn’t mind telling her. In fact, with her eyes closed, he found it easy to talk of his past. “I was told that my pa died when I was two, and that Ma couldn’t deal with it and started to wander. She left me with Gram. That was before we moved to Bella Creek. We saw Ma maybe two or three times a year. And then we didn’t. I was eleven when we learned she had died.” And when he’d learned the truth about his parentage.

“How sad for you. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how I would react to such news.”

He chuckled in a self-mocking way. “I got angry. I wondered why I couldn’t be enough reason for her to stay around. And I don’t refer to her death.”

Emily said nothing, but he sensed her waiting and he continued.

“I always believed she had died in an accident, but one of the bigger boys—a bully—told me she died in a house for soiled doves. At first, I thought that was a place for unhappy women, but that misconception was soon cleared up for me. Turns out she didn’t even know who my father was.” He thought of that troubled time in his past. “I thank God that someone cared enough to set me on the right path.”

“Your grandmother?” She studied him, her eyes shadowed with pain.

“You should be resting, not listening to my personal history.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed. “Who knows what will make my memory return? Besides, your voice eases my headache. Please continue.”

“Very well.” He returned to their conversation. “My grandmother was doing her best with me, but was on a losing track until Grandfather Marshall came to visit. His wife had been Gram’s best friend. He saw how things were going with me and suggested she move to Bella Creek. Said there was need for a good seamstress. But he knew I needed a change of scenery...a chance to direct my energies in a positive direction.”

“It seems to have worked. Right?”

Another mocking laugh. “Not at first. The then-sheriff found me setting a fire behind the hotel. He led me to the jail. I thought he was going to lock me up, but instead he gave me a job cleaning his office and running errands. He spoke slowly and carefully. And I listened.” Jesse lowered his voice to imitate Sheriff Good’s way of speaking. “He said things like, ‘Every decision you make takes you down a road. Make sure you choose a road you want to be on at the end.’ ‘A man is only as good as his word.’ ‘When it comes to right and wrong, there is no compromise.’ ‘Avoid all appearance of evil.’”

He leaned back. Thinking of Sheriff Good always filled him with pleasure. “He was a fine man.”

He had taught Jesse to be proud of himself, and he still was. His smile turned downward. Not all people valued him as he’d like. Four years ago, Agnes Breckenridge had moved to town with her family and she’d made it obvious she liked him. They courted. But when he mentioned marriage, she’d demurred. Said she wanted more than the small town of Bella Creek could offer. He’d said he would go elsewhere if she desired it.

Knowing he must be honest about who he was, and uncertain what she’d heard around town, he had told her the circumstances of his birth. That’s when he learned that she wanted a man with more than he could offer. Not a man who didn’t know his father’s identity. She left town to return to an old beau and abandoned him to nurse his pain. His experience with women after that had been equally unsuccessful.

He knew he wasn’t enough of a man for any woman to love, despite his grandmother’s insistence that he was a fine man. He hadn’t been enough reason for his ma to stick around and he hadn’t been enough for Agnes.

He had no intention of risking his heart again and likely again being rejected. No, sir. He would stick to what he knew he could do well—be a sheriff.

He brought his thoughts back to the present. “Gram has put up with me all these years.” He gave a mocking chuckle. Seems she was the only one willing to do so.

“I’m only guessing, but I think that might have been more a pleasure than a hardship.”

Her response eased some of the strain from him and he grinned at her. “I’ve been trying to make up for the misery I put her through for a few years.”

She looked deep into his eyes, searching for something. He wished he knew what she sought and could provide it.

She sat back with a sigh.

“You remembered something?”

“Only a feeling.”

“Tell me about it. Talking might help.”

“It might.” She remained silent a moment as if collecting her thoughts. “I remember looking into someone’s face, searching for something. I feel like I didn’t find what I looked for. But that’s all there is. No name. No face. Nothing.” Her breathing came too fast. She pressed her hand to her eyes.

Jesse squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t try so hard. Let your memory come back when it’s time. It might take a day or two. You know, until that bump goes away.” He brushed the side of her head.

She filled her lungs slowly and leaned back. “I’ll try to relax.” She glanced about the yard. “The flowers are beautiful.”

“Gram likes to grow enough to take bouquets to the church every Sunday.”

Emily inhaled deeply. “I smell sweet peas.” She closed her eyes. “I see myself with my arms full of the flower. I’m happy and laughing.”

She broke off and he waited, wondering if this was the beginning of her memory returning, but she shook her head.

“I can’t see anything more.”

“Stay here. I’ll get you some raspberries.” He strode toward the bushes. The flowers had triggered a flash of remembrance. Perhaps raspberries would do the same. If not, she could at least enjoy the sweetness of them.

* * *

Emily watched Jesse cross the yard, moving like a man with no worries, no hurries. She knew that couldn’t be true. Especially as a robbery had been committed, two men murdered and he had in his care a woman who couldn’t tell him anything about herself.

He cupped his hand and filled it, then returned to her side and offered the raspberries to her.

“Thanks.” What a kind, generous man. She took one and sniffed it, finding the scent familiar and full of pleasant memories. “My grandmother had a big raspberry patch. She let us kids pick the berries and eat them.” She popped the berries into her mouth one by one and let the taste explode in her mouth.

He sat quietly at her side, perhaps letting her remember and talk.

She finished the fruit. “I don’t recall anything more. Not where she lived nor how many children I shared the experience with.” How could her mind be so stubborn?

“Let it be.” He stretched his legs out before him. “I might wish I could forget a few things, but I’d want to choose which they were.”

“Like what?”

“Being a rebellious young man, as I told you. Knowing what kind of life my mother lived. So sad. It’s hard to forgive her.”

Emily jerked to her feet and took three steps. Her lungs had forgotten how to work.

Jesse hurried to her side. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know but something you said made me feel—” She couldn’t say what she felt. “I’m afraid of who I might be.”

He turned her to face him and kept his hands on her shoulders. “Emily, I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done, but I can’t imagine it’s anything you should be afraid of.”

She shook her head, ignoring the pain the movement brought. “But you don’t know. I don’t know.”

He led her back to the bench and waited for her to sit, then sat beside her and took her hands. “Emily, let me pray for you.”

She turned her palms into his and held on tight. “I’d like that.” She bowed her head.

“Father God, You know the beginning from the end. You know everything there is to know about Emily. Bring those memories back to her and help her to be calm and patient until You do.” A moment of silence surrounded them. Birds sang overhead. Leaves rustled. The scent of flowers filled the air. And sweet, blessed peace filled her soul.

“Amen,” he said.

She slowly brought her gaze to his. “Thank you. I will trust and not fear.”

“Good to hear.” He slipped away and returned with a handful of sweet peas in pink, purple and white. “Enjoy one of the many of God’s gifts to you.”

She took the flowers and buried her nose in them. “Thank you. God’s gifts? I think having you and your grandmother take me in is one of them.” She lowered her gaze lest he think her too bold.

Bold? The word hammered inside her head. Had she been too bold in the past? I will trust and not fear. She dismissed the thought. In God’s time all things would be brought to her memory.

She hoped God’s time would be sooner rather than later.

Chapter Four

Jesse watched Emily inhale the scent of the flowers. Several times she had mentioned concern about a checkered past. He didn’t know if it indicated that she’d had one or if it was simply a fear born of not knowing. Perhaps he would ask Dr. Baker his opinion. But not now. He sat back, content to enjoy Emily’s pleasure in the flowers and Mikey’s play as he and the old dog romped about on the lawn. He wouldn’t have thought Muffin had that much energy left in her.

He used to do the same with Muffin, only he would have been much older. Someone had left Muffin at Marshall’s Mercantile as a pup and Gram had brought her home. The playful dog had provided Jesse with many hours of fun and unconditional affection. Nice that Mikey found the same.

Poor boy. Jesse needed to find the couple who were going to adopt him and see if he could discover who Aunt Hilda was. Hopefully that would give Mikey a home and Emily her past.

He picked up a bit of wood and joined Mikey and Muffin. He tossed the wood. “Fetch.”

Muffin raced after it and brought it back.

Jesse gave the wood to Mikey. “You throw it for her.”

The toss landed three feet in front of the boy and Muffin brought it back to him.

Mikey bounced up and down, squealing in excitement. He threw the wood again. “Go.” He giggled so hard that he fell to the ground.

Emily joined Jesse. “He’s sure having fun.”

Jesse pulled her hand around his elbow, telling himself it was to make sure she didn’t have a dizzy spell. But it was more than that. He wanted to keep her close, protect her.

How foolish could he be? He knew nothing about this woman. Her name but not her past. Not whether she was married, though he’d again studied her ring finger and seen no evidence of any recent wearing of a ring. Unless she was like his mother. She certainly didn’t look the part. Not that it mattered. He was only doing his job as a sheriff.

The door opened and Annie rushed out, bearing a shopping basket full of clothes. “I believe I have everything you’ll need for a day or two.” She set the basket on the stoop and proceeded to pull out three outfits for Emily’s inspection. A brown skirt, a navy one and two shirtwaists—one white, the other pink—and a dress that seemed a little fancier. There were more things, but she didn’t reveal them. Jesse guessed they were of a personal nature.

“Aunt Mary had them tucked away,” Annie said. “She’s put on some weight and couldn’t wear them.” That would explain the slight mothball smell. Annie’s aunt Mary and uncle George ran the Marshall’s Mercantile store.

Emily touched the garments. She looked troubled.

He moved a step closer, waiting for her to explain what bothered her.

“Thank you,” she said to Annie. “I’m grateful for your help. I just wish...” She fluttered a hand. “I feel like such a nuisance.”

“Even if you had your memory, it wouldn’t change that your belongings are missing.” Jesse touched her elbow as he spoke, relieved when her clouded expression cleared.

“It’s strange that they would take everything,” Annie said. “What use would they have for a woman’s or a child’s things? Well, unless one of them was, indeed, married with a child. Or was it sheer meanness?”