by Linda Ford
Grandfather turned to Emily. “You’re a single woman. You couldn’t do better than to settle here in Bella Creek. We need more young ladies like you.”
Gram flicked her fingers at him. “Allan, you old scoundrel. What would Annabelle say to your interfering?”
He looked about the table. “See these fine young families? They can all thank me for interfering. Except for Carly and Sawyer, but they had her father to interfere on her behalf. I think Annabelle would be pleased with what I’ve accomplished.”
Gram shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“If that means I’m successful in what I do, I have to agree.” He laughed at the scolding look on Gram’s face.
Emily kept her attention on the top of the table, hoping Grandfather would not return to his suggestion that she should stay in Bella Creek.
More and more she longed to do so.
*
Many days had passed since Emily wrote to the Newmans. She knew it would take time for the letter to cross the mountains and reach them, and then for a reply to come. In the meantime, she kept busy, finding solace in work. She helped Gram with her sewing. She made supper. She spent time in the garden and she played with Mikey. Her love for the child grew. It would be a terrible wrench when the Newmans came for him.
Today she had left Mikey to play with Evan and headed to the store to buy Gram more pink thread. The warm sun shone in a sky as blue as the bluebells she’d admired on their trip to find the Newmans. The air carried the scent of flowers and trees and the songs of happy birds. Dogs barked as she passed their yards. Peaceful town life.
The sound of a horse approaching from behind her brought her to a standstill and she pressed to the side of the road. For the most part, she’d gotten over her wariness of strangers. She was learning to recognize more and more people and that helped. Still, she was cautious until she could identify folks.
The rider wore dusty clothes, as if he’d been on the trail a long time or was simply careless about his appearance. The man looked at her with bold eyes. She drew in her breath. Had she seen him before? If so, where and when? She searched her brain and could not come up with an answer.
The man’s dark eyes remained on her as he passed. Something about those eyes—
Horse and rider continued down the street.
She remained frozen at the side of the road.
Those dark eyes—
With a frantic cry she lifted her skirts and rushed past the church, and without looking either way she crossed the street and flung open the door to the sheriff’s office.
Jesse sat at his desk looking through his mail. When he saw her expression, he bolted to his feet and came to her side.
“Emily, what’s wrong?”
“I saw—” She gulped. “I saw a man. I don’t know who he is but—” She wobbled her hand indicating she didn’t know anything. “I have this awful feeling.”
“Describe him.”
“Dirty. Very dark eyes. A bold stare.” She shivered.
“His horse?”
“Black with a narrow white blaze.”
“Was he one of the stagecoach robbers?”
“I can’t say for certain, but there was something about those eyes.” She couldn’t stop shivering.
He drew her away from the windows and hugged her briefly then pulled the hard-backed chair to her side. “Sit here. Stay away from the windows. Don’t open the door. I’m going to look around.”
He slapped his hat on and hurried out, pausing to lock the door behind him.
She rocked back and forth over her knees. Why was she so frightened by a stranger? She closed her eyes and let the sight of those bold, black eyes fill her thoughts.
Had she seen him before she lost consciousness at the stagecoach accident?
Or was it simply an overreaction to her strange situation? Not knowing when and of whom she should be afraid.
Jesse returned a short time later. “He must have left town right after you saw him. There is no sign of him in Bella Creek and he didn’t stop at the store.” He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms about her.
She welcomed the shelter of his arms, a place where she felt safe. And perhaps more. She felt valued.
“I’ll see you home.”
With no concern for who might see them and wonder at her behavior, she clung to his hand as they hurried home.
Gram took one look at her and exclaimed. “Are you ill?”
“She’s had a fright,” Jesse explained before he released her and stepped back to observe her. “Are you going to be okay if I leave you?”
She sucked in air and straightened her shoulders. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I overreacted again. It is becoming the theme of my life. I’m sorry.” She gave her bravest smile, hoping it would convince him she was over her silly behavior. “You go back to whatever you were doing. I’ll slip out and get Mikey in an hour.” How she managed to say those words without shivering she didn’t know.
“You stay here until I’m certain you’re safe. I’ll bring Mikey back with me.”
“That’s not necessary. I was frightened but I’m over it now and I realize there was no cause for concern.”
He grew fierce. “Promise me you will stay here and let me get Mikey.”
They had a brief, silent argument. She felt the weight of his determination and hoped he felt her determination, as well. She’d spent too many days being afraid of going out and had grown to despise her weakness. She had no intention of becoming a prisoner.
“Emily, promise me. Your reaction was very real, and I can’t help thinking either he’s someone from your past that you have reason to fear or he’s one of the murdering robbers.”
Gram gasped. “I’ll make sure she stays put.”
Jesse and Emily looked at each other. She started to smile and so did he. Then they both laughed.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Gram said with a hint of exasperation.
Jesse grinned at her. “It’s just the idea that you could stop her. You’re smaller and, well, older.”
She huffed. “I got a lot more grit in these old bones than you give me credit for.”
Jesse and Emily grinned at each other.
“I’ll stay here until you bring Mikey back,” Emily said. “I have no desire to have Gram tackle me to the ground and chain me to the kitchen table.”
Gram shook her head. “I wouldn’t go that far…unless, of course, I had to.”
The three of them laughed together, recognizing the humor of the situation.
Jesse went to the door. “I have a few things to take care of. I’ll get Mikey when I come home for supper. And you will be here?”
She held up her hand as if making a vow and said most solemnly. “I will be here.”
He left and with him went all her bravado. The man on the black horse had frightened her. Thankfully, he had left town. Or, at least, appeared to have. She shivered and hoped Gram wouldn’t notice.
Needing a diversion, she turned her attention to making supper. “Do you mind if I make a raspberry dessert?”
“Child, you make whatever you want. I have to finish a shirt this afternoon.”
Emily went outside and picked enough berries for the dessert she had in mind. She knew the recipe in her head. Had she learned it from her mother or someone else? She straightened, closed her eyes and thought of a mother who didn’t know where her daughter was. Or was Emily even missed?
She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself, to stop wondering why no one had come looking for her. It was foolish and a waste of time. Besides, if they expected her to stay to get Mikey settled, no one would realize she was missing…in her own mind.
The dessert was ready and cooling on the counter, the meat, potatoes and gravy done. There was an abundance of fresh vegetables from the garden. She had chosen green beans and beet greens.
Mikey and Jesse came in through the back door and Mikey ran to her. She bent over to receive his hu
g.
“Did you have a good time playing with Evan?”
“Me did. Me catched ball.”
Either he was speaking more clearly or she was understanding him better.
Mikey ran to greet the dog and Emily met Jesse’s eyes. She stilled at his seriousness. “What is it?”
“Remember I sent inquiries down the line trying to learn where you started your journey?”
She nodded.
He pulled a letter from his pocket.
Her heart froze. “You got a reply?” she whispered.
He unfolded the page. “It seems a Miss Emily Smith and a young boy boarded the train in Alliance, Nebraska. There is little information apart from that. But I took the liberty to write back and ask if there was an orphanage nearby and did he know who Aunt Hilda might be. I wondered if Mikey was from an orphan’s home.”
She stared at him. “May I?” She held out her hand for the letter.
He gave it to her and she read the words. They said nothing more than what he’d told her, but she read them over and over, hoping something would trigger her mind to remember. Finally, sighing, she gave the letter back to him. “It’s a start, I suppose.”
“I’d say so. First real information we’ve had yet. We should hear back in a week.”
A week. How long was she to keep treading water, wondering who she was?
Chapter Thirteen
Jesse stared at the trail ahead as he rode toward home and considered the events of the last few days.
The hours had passed slowly as they waited for a reply from Alliance. Alternately, they flew by as Jesse thought of how the news would likely take Emily and Mikey from Bella Creek. He spent as much time with them as he could, but his determination to find the crooks took him away for long spells. In the past two weeks, despite his best efforts, he’d found nothing new. He’d scoured the area again and again, hoping for some careless indication of where they’d gone…a dropped cigarette butt, a dislodged rock, a broken branch. Even fresh horse droppings. But he found nothing. Either they were very smart or incredibly fortunate.
Today was Saturday. He turned toward home. He’d decided to put aside his job as sheriff and his hunt for bad guys and just be Jesse Hill, a man with dreams and wishes. Yes, he knew that his parentage, the reputation bestowed on him by his mother’s choices, made those dreams impossible, but for one day he would forget all that. Just as he hoped he could help Emily forget her concerns.
He’d had plenty of time to consider what they might do but dismissed everything he thought of. A picnic, a buggy ride, even an afternoon at the river that ran by town put her out in the open, and since she’d seen the dark-eyed man who unsettled her, he’d been concerned. Taking her away from town would, in his estimation, constitute an unnecessary risk.
Instead, he planned a quiet day close to home. He would whisper in Gram’s ear that he’d like some time alone. She’d understand.
He reached town. Rode the streets to make sure all was well, unsaddled Rocky, gave him a good rubdown and an extra ration of oats then turned him free in the little pasture. The horse raced about the perimeter fence, as if knowing he was going to enjoy a day or two of rest.
Jesse’s next stop was his office.
Clarence bolted from the chair behind the desk. “Howdy, boss.”
“You’re welcome to the chair. How’s things?”
“Quiet. No important letters or anything. Oh yeah, I broke up a fight between two young fellas.” He laughed and told of two boys about ten getting a little too involved in a tussle.
Jesse chuckled. “Good to know that’s as bad as things get in Bella Creek. No sign of a man with dark eyes and a black horse with a blaze?”
“I’ve been on the watch, as you said, but I’ve seen nothing.”
Jesse considered his dusty, trail-soiled clothes. He needed a bath and clean clothes, so he headed for the store where he purchased new duds, then he went to the hotel and ordered up a bath. “Lots of hot water.” He did not want to appear at home in this state.
Mr. Hawkins looked at the dirty cowboy before him. If he hadn’t known Jesse, he might have refused. “It will take twenty minutes to heat enough water.” He went to the back, muttering about the way some men let themselves get so dirty.
Jesse stood at the windows, studying the town. Quiet. But somewhere were three men ready and willing to change that. He had to find them.
Mr. Hawkins returned. “Your bath is ready. Want me to do something with those clothes?”
“Thanks but I’ll take them home.”
Sometime later he headed down the street, knowing he smelled like lye soap. His new clothes were a little uncomfortable, but he’d soon break them in.
As he approached the house, he heard Mikey in the backyard and went there. Mikey saw Jesse and ran to him. He caught the boy and tossed him in the air.
Gram and Emily sat by the house, shelling peas.
He saw the question in each set of eyes and shifted Mikey over his shoulder. “I didn’t find them.”
Emily sighed and looked away.
He’d failed her. “Sooner or later they’ll surface and I’ll be ready.”
Emily rose. “I’ll make some coffee for you.”
He let her go only so he could speak to Gram. “I thought you’d like to take Mikey to visit Sadie.”
She chuckled. “I could do that for you.” She grew serious. “Jesse, be careful. I don’t want to see either one of you hurt. She’s a sweet girl but what do we know about her?”
“And she doesn’t realize what my past means.” He tried to keep his tone light but perhaps failed, for Gram squeezed his hand.
“Jesse, you’re a good man and don’t you forget it. What your mother did was her choice, not yours.”
“I know.” But it made little difference to most people. If he hadn’t had the support of the Marshall family, he probably wouldn’t be sheriff. He’d once harbored the hope he could run from his heritage but soon learned it dogged his heels. Ironic that he would like to forget his past while Emily wanted so desperately to remember hers.
“Do you want coffee outside?” Emily asked from the doorway.
Gram got to her feet and called Mikey. “You two will have to drink your coffee without us. We’re going for a walk.” And Gram left out the back gate.
“That was strange,” Emily said. “She hadn’t mentioned any plan to leave.”
Jesse didn’t say anything about that. “Let’s have coffee out here.” The setting was pleasant and quiet.
Emily carried a tray with two cups of coffee, a generous slice of cake on one plate and a much smaller one on a second plate.
He grabbed a stool and brought it close for her to put the tray on.
They sipped coffee and ate the rich spice cake. He suspected she had made it. “Good cake.”
“Thanks. I like baking.” She chuckled. “I’ve wondered if I ran a restaurant or was I a seamstress. Doesn’t seem I could be both.”
She could be anything she chose to be, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He understood well enough that saying it didn’t make it happen.
“Gram has overcome a lot in her lifetime. She told me how difficult it was when your mother chose the sort of life she did. Gram said she agonized in prayer for her daughter to repent.” She shifted so she could look at Jesse as she spoke. “She said the only good to come from that situation was you.”
“So she says.” It hurt to think of his mother’s wasted ways.
“Gram says getting you away from her gave her a new lease on things.” She studied Jesse, her blue eyes intense.
He wondered what she saw—a man who didn’t know who his father was, a man from a sordid background, or a man who wanted nothing more than to be accepted as part of proper society?
“You’ve been a real blessing to her.” Emily’s eyes darkened with emotion.
He leaned closer, wanting to know if that emotion was approval of him or of Gram. “Not everyone sees me as a blessing.”
“You mean people like Agnes? How long will you continue to let her opinion shape yours?”
He sat back. “I don’t. I’m not. Others share her opinion.”
“I suppose they do, but not everyone does. My question is, do you listen to the nay voices or the yea ones?”
He stared at her.
She continued. “Maybe it’s time you forgave your mother.”
Forgive her? Never. He looked into the distance, startled at the words that rushed to his mind. He had long since stopped thinking of her, being disappointed in her, wishing she had cared for him enough to make some changes in her life. He thought he’d forgiven her. But his automatic response indicated otherwise. Could he forgive? Did he want to?
Emily touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking. I had no right to say that. To judge you.”
Others had judged him, but this was different because of the truth in her words. He tried to think how to respond. Someone banged on the front door and the sound of a horse racing away jerked him to his feet. “I have to see what that was all about.”
She followed him through the house. He opened the door. No one was there. He looked up and down the street. Because it was Saturday, there was much activity in the center of town but nothing to suggest any sort of emergency.
Emily gave a cry and fell to her knees. She reached past him to something on the step, pulled a soiled white rag toward her chest and rocked back and forth, crying quietly.
He knelt beside her. “Emily, what is it?”
*
Emily recognized the shirtwaist as soon as she saw it. A scream filled her head but she choked it back. She could not, however, keep back the sobs that consumed her body. Ignoring the blood and dirt on the fabric, she cradled it to her face.
Jesse was at her side, his hands warm on her shoulders. “Emily, what’s wrong?” He asked the question several times before she understood him.
“It’s mine,” she managed between snuffles.
He glanced up and down the street and then urged her to her feet. “Come inside.”
She let him guide her to the couch and, at his gentle pressure, she sat.