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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 (#ua2086606-e892-59aa-86c6-4cf2f10ae748)
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?”
“I aim to find out the reason for what they’ve done, and I will find them and bring them to justice.”
Emily grew thoughtful. “I fear I am keeping you from pursuing them. Please don’t let me stand in your way.”
“I won’t.” Except she was. He could have continued his search this afternoon, but when he found the satchel he had brought it back to town hoping it would stimulate her memory. He couldn’t deny he felt overly protective of Emily, given her situation. But then, keeping her safe and connecting her to her friends and family was also part of his job.
Annie folded the items back into the basket. “I need to get back to my family, but don’t hesitate to let me know if I can help in any way.” She patted Emily’s arm. “You can find me in the manse behind the church. Just turn left when you leave this house and go until you reach the church. We live right beside it. Jesse’s office is straight across the street.”
“Thank you again,” Emily murmured.
Annie hesitated, as if wanting to say more. Instead she looked at Jesse. “Take good care of her. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.” She called goodbye to Mikey and left.
Emily twisted her hands together.
He caught them and stilled them. “You’re worrying again. I know it can’t be easy.” He feared she might overtax her brain and get dizzy. “Let’s sit again.”
“I can’t. I need to move.”
So they walked to the back gate. There she stopped.
If he talked, it might help her to quit fretting about her loss of memory. “Annie is like a sister to me. She’s a Marshall. Grandfather Marshall is responsible for the existence of Bella Creek. When the mining town to the northwest of here sprang up, it was...and still is...a rough place. Grandfather decided it wasn’t suitable for decent folk. He has two sons—one is George, who runs the Marshall’s Mercantile store. If you need anything, put it on my bill there. I’ll explain the circumstances to him.”
She turned, a protest forming.
He resisted the urge to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She hadn’t looked in a mirror or she would have noted the dust marring her face and how untidy her hair was. He was half tempted to pull out his handkerchief and wipe her cheeks but didn’t want to frighten her. “Now don’t fret. Things will work out soon enough. I’m sure of it. I was telling you about the Marshalls. Bud is Grandfather’s other son. He is one of the owners of the Marshall Five Ranch about five miles west of town. He has four children. You’ve met Annie. She has three brothers, all tall, blond and blue-eyed, like she is. Dawson, Conner and Logan. Conner has been my best friend for a long time.”
Seeing that she listened, her own troubles momentarily forgotten, he continued to tell about the Marshall family—how all four of them had married in the past year. “There was a fire in town a year and a half ago. Took out a whole block of buildings. They’ve all been rebuilt.” He told of how the Marshalls had been responsible for bringing in a new teacher and doctor. “You met him. Doc Baker.” He related how the community had worked together in making a fair successful in order to purchase a bell for the church. “It can also be used to alert the citizens to an emergency, like a fire.”
She chuckled. “Sounds to me like this should have been called Marshallville.”
He laughed. “In a way, it was. Bella is Grandmother Marshall’s name.”
“She must be pleased.”
“She passed away years ago.”
Emily grew thoughtful. She looked untroubled so he stayed quiet. After a few minutes, she sighed. “It all sounds so...idyllic, peaceful. As if nothing would ever go wrong here.”
“There’s been a stagecoach robbery and a double murder, so I wouldn’t say it has been trouble-free.”
His arms were crossed and she rested her hand on his forearm. “I’m keeping you from your task of finding those men. Please don’t feel you need to watch over me.” She lowered her head, making it impossible for him to see her eyes. “Though I confess I find a great deal of comfort and encouragement in your presence.”
Her words made him feel as if he mattered. It was nice to be valued by someone for a reason other than the star on his chest.
He clamped his teeth together. Was he forgetting all those lessons of how worthless he was—to his mother, to Agnes, to half a dozen other young women who had wandered in and out of his life? But he sensed her need for reassurance and could not deny it. “Emily, you can count on me to see you through this.”
She tipped her head back. Her gaze held his. He felt her search deep into his soul. She smiled. “I know, and I thank you.”
His breath eased out. How could she have such ready trust in him? She didn’t know who he was, apart from the sheriff.
Be cautious, he warned himself.
Could he trust her? He knew his answer should be no. But like Annie said, Emily without a memory was likely the real Emily, and he found her sweet and pure.
He must do all he could to find out who she was.
“I hate to leave you, but I need to send some letters to inquire where you got on the stage and perhaps learn who Aunt Hilda, Abigail and John are.” It was too late to send messages back along the line today, but he could get letters ready and start asking questions.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll sit and rest while Mikey plays.” She returned to the bench and appeared to be relaxed.
“I’ll be back as soon as I’ve taken care of business.” The best thing he could do for Emily at the moment was help her get Mikey to his adoptive parents. This Abigail and John would be waiting for their child. More than that, they would know who Aunt Hilda was and where Emily had come from. Once he knew that, he would be able to find Emily’s family.
“No need to rush on my account.” She smiled.
He really needed to leave, but he hesitated to do so. It took a great deal of effort to force his steps to the house. “Gram, I have to go. Keep an eye on that pair, would you?”
She chuckled. “Do you really need to ask?”
“Thanks.” He left via the front door.
Jesse strode down Mineral Street, checking on each store. He completed his circuit then went to Marshall’s Mercantile. His jaw muscles hurt and he realized he’d chomped down on his teeth way too hard and forced himself to relax. Someone had threatened his town. Whoever was responsible for the robbery and murder, for bringing harm to a young woman and little boy, would be found and captured. Jesse Hill would see to it.
He entered the store and let his eyes adjust to the interior dimness. He circled the inside of the store as George waited on a customer. The displays were familiar to Jesse, so he took little notice of the goods, though he paused to look at the women’s wear and wondered if something in the array would spark Emily’s memory.
The customer left with his arms full. George turned to Jesse. George Marshall saw almost everyone in the area or passing through because they soon learned his store was well stocked and could supply their needs.
“Howdy, Jesse. Find those robbers yet?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid.” He explained Mikey and Emily at the house and Emily’s loss of memory, though George had by now likely heard a dozen different versions of the details concerning the pair Jesse brought in.
“Could she at least give a description of the men responsible?”
“Pretty sketchy one. They covered their faces, so she is unable to describe what they look like.”
“Didn’t find anything at the site to tell you who they are?”
“One of the horses had an odd-shaped horseshoe that will help identify the robbers. The rain made it impossible to follow their tracks.” He leaned on the counter. “Any strangers around recently? Someone who might have been checking out the stagecoach schedule? Or someone waiting for an arrival?”
“There was a stranger in town today buying supplies. Said he was joining his partner at Wolf Hollow.”
“Sounds innocent enough. Did you happen to notice anything odd about his boots?”
George laughed. “Don’t often have cause to notice a man’s feet. Why?”
“Emily said the one thing she saw was that one of the robbers had silver-tipped boots.”
“Well, I’ll sure be keeping my eye open for that and will let you know.”
“Have you heard of a couple by the name of Abigail and John?”
“What’s their last name?”
“’Fraid I don’t know.” Jesse told about the letter.
George stroked his chin. “There was an Abigail and John Newman who lived north of Wolf Hollow. They came in once or twice. I remember because she would always go to the selection of baby items and look so longingly at them that I wondered if she had lost a baby.”
“I’ll plan on heading out to Wolf Hollow tomorrow and look around.” It was the perfect place for riffraff to hide. He had two things to look for—a horse with an odd-shaped shoe and a man with silver-tipped boots. And a third—a couple by the name of Newman.
