The sheriff patted her arm. “You’ll be just fine. At least you are safe and in one piece.”
“Not quite.”
He eyed her carefully. “How’s that? Are you injured elsewhere?”
She smiled though her lips quivered. “I seem to be missing some of my memories.”
He looked sympathetic, or at least, she hoped that was what she saw. “I’m sure they’ll return once the shock has worn off.”
A wagon rumbled down the slope toward the scene of the wreck.
Sheriff Hill pushed to his feet. “I sent for help and here it is. I’ll take you to town and we’ll sort out things.” He offered her a hand up.
She placed her fingers in his strong grip. And then couldn’t let go. He was the only thing between her and an abyss of darkness. She shivered.
Perhaps he understood, for he held her tightly. Or more likely, he was only making sure she didn’t fall.
“Come along, little fella.” He scooped Mikey into his other arm.
Mikey giggled. “’Kay.” He patted the man’s cheek. “Nice.”
“Thanks. Good of you to think so.” The sheriff’s droll response brought a smile to Emily’s lips.
“Not used to being told you’re nice?” It felt good to be able to tease a little, despite the seriousness of the situation.
“Get told it all the time,” he said with a shrug. “But not often by a little boy who has just met me. He must be a good judge of character.” He slid her a look that he no doubt meant to be serious but he couldn’t hide the teasing light in his eyes.
She laughed, ignoring the way the sound brought pain to her head. “Aren’t all children good judges of character? Accepting us for who we truly are?” The question stirred a thought, as if it meant more to her than simply an observation. She stared inward at the teasing memory, willing it to open the door to who she was. But it flitted away.
The sheriff guided her toward the wagon. Two men jumped down, carrying dark blankets.
She turned to follow their journey. They bent over a body, covered it with one of the blankets, hoisted it up and moved it to the wagon, where they put it in the back.
Emily’s legs shook. The sheriff had lifted Mikey up to the seat and turned back to Emily in time to see her fold.
He caught her before she hit the ground and swept her into his arms.
She clung to his firm shoulders. “Those poor men.” The driver and the shotgun rider were both dead. She and the boy were alive, but she didn’t remember her name. Or a destination. It was too much and she wept.
His arms tightened around her. “It’s okay.” He didn’t seem in the least flustered by her emotions. “I’ll take you to see the doctor. He’ll be able to fix you up.”
“I hope so.” Her words were interspersed with sobs. “But what if he can’t?” She couldn’t hold back the wail but she quickly choked it off. “‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. In God I have put my trust; I will not fear.’” The scripture verse had never meant more to her. Not even when...
But she couldn’t remember.
“Psalm Fifty-six,” the sheriff said. “Hang on to those thoughts.”
“Thank you, sheriff. Did anyone tell you that you have an encouraging way about you?”
“Sure, my grandmother says it all the time.” He smiled at her, his face so close to hers she could see the dark shadow of his whiskers, the smile lines about his eyes and something in his gaze that filled her with courage. “And seeing as I have no choice but to use your name, you best use mine and call me Jesse.”
“Thank you, Jesse.” She meant for more than the use of his name.
He lifted her to the wagon seat. “My pleasure.”
She closed her eyes as another body was placed in the wagon box. Then the two men climbed into the back. Jesse sat beside her on the seat and flicked the reins. She pulled Mikey to her knees, finding comfort in the warmth of his small body.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Bella Creek, Montana. Does that name ring a bell?”
She rolled the name—Bella Creek—round and round in her head. “Nothing. Not even the faintest chime.” Montana. That would be why she saw mountains nearby. Why was she here?
He grinned at her. “Maybe someone is waiting for you.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Except she didn’t feel any sense of looking forward to joining anyone. She grabbed Jesse’s arm and hung on like a drowning woman to a life buoy. “But what if there isn’t? Where will I go?”
“Now, don’t you worry. If no one is meeting you, then I will take you to my grandmother. You can stay there until we sort things out.” His smile was gentle, promising to keep her safe. Was it the star on his chest that made her feel that way? Or the fact he had rescued her? Or was it the plain and simple fear that she was alone without any knowledge of who she was?
* * *
Jesse Hill had known something was amiss when the stagecoach was more than an hour late. Hoping he’d find it broken down, he’d gone looking. When he saw the wrecked coach at the bottom of an incline, he had approached with caution. It might well have been a simple accident, but having been a sheriff for four of his twenty-five years and having worked with the sheriff before him since he was twelve, he knew better than to ride mindlessly toward such a scene.
First he’d seen the bodies of two men. He had recognized the driver and his partner.
Nerves twitching at evidence that a crime had been committed, he’d studied the stagecoach, waiting for someone to make a sound should there be anyone hiding. A movement to the right had jerked his gaze in that direction and he’d seen a child sitting on the ground.
And then he’d seen the woman.
She’d clutched at her head and moaned.
He’d hunkered down before her, spoken to her.
Her eyes had jerked toward him and she’d blinked as if trying to bring him into focus. Dark blue eyes. Golden-blond hair matted with dirt. He’d guessed her to be in her twenties, though he was not a good judge of young women. She wore a navy skirt and blue flowered shirtwaist, now streaked with dirt and torn at the elbow.
He had waited for her to sort out her thoughts and then asked her name.
He’d wanted to soothe her when she couldn’t remember. And now she clung to his arm like she was afraid to let go. The little boy snuggled against her as if he knew he was safe in her arms. That alone convinced him she was a good woman.
Was the boy her son? Why else would he be traveling with her? And where was she going with him?
“I will help you figure out who you are.” They approached Bella Creek. “First, I’ll take you to the doctor so he can examine both of you.”
He pulled to a halt before the doctor’s house. “You wait there until I help you.” He had visions of her trying to climb down on her own and getting dizzy. Perhaps incurring another blow to her head. He gave the two men with him instructions to take the bodies to the undertaker. “Then check and see if anyone is waiting for the stagecoach.”
He ran around to take Mikey and set him on the ground, then he reached up to lift Emily down. She was of medium height and weighed hardly a thing. Though he might be feeling just a bit protective of her.
He took Mikey by one hand and Emily by the other and led them into the doctor’s office.
Doc Baker looked up, saw the condition of Emily’s clothes and bounded to his feet. “What do we have here?”
“They were passengers on the stagecoach. It’s been robbed. I found it at the bottom of Knotley’s Hill.”
“The driver and his friend?”
He led Emily to the nearest chair and she sank to it with a groan before he answered the doc. “They’re in the back of the wagon.”
Doc nodded, understanding his meaning. “I’m sorry.”
Jesse drew the doctor a few steps away. “T
his is Emily and Mikey. Emily can’t remember anything but her first name.”
Doc nodded. “I’ll examine her.” He turned his attention to his patients. “Shall I look at the youngster first?” Doc didn’t expect an answer. “How about you sit up here, young man?” He patted the examining table.
“’Kay.” Mikey scrambled up and sat facing the doctor, his eyes revealing wariness.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Doc ran his hands along the boy’s body as he spoke. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Mikey rattled off an explanation that was mostly unintelligible. Between the odd word Jesse understood and the way Mikey waved his arms, Jesse understood bad guys had chased them. They shot guns and then they flew through the air. “Owie.” He pulled up his trousers to show a scraped knee.
Doc examined it carefully. “I think it needs a cleaning and a dressing. What do you think?”
Mikey nodded. “’Kay.”
Doc poured water into a basin and gently cleaned the wound, then covered it with a wide swath of bandaging. “How’s that?”
Mikey nodded. “Good.”
Jesse watched Emily as she kept her attention on Mikey and the doctor. A tender smile curved her lips. This boy seemed to hold a special place in her heart.
Doc helped Mikey from the table. “Now let’s look at the young lady. Jesse, would you take Mikey into the waiting room? I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Jesse held his hand out to the boy. Mikey hesitated.
“It’s okay,” Emily said. “Go along with the nice man.”
Mikey nodded and obediently took Jesse’s hand.
Jesse paused at the door and looked back at her. She sat on the edge of the table, much as Mikey had, and looked every bit as apprehensive. Jesse wanted to offer her some kind of assurance. But before he could speak, she looked in his direction, correctly read his concern and smiled.
“I’m okay. Don’t worry.”
Ironic that she felt she had to reassure him when he had wanted to reassure her.
He pulled the door shut behind him. Father in heaven, help her remember who she is. This woman deserved to be with those who loved her. Parents. A brother or a sister. An aunt or an uncle. Perhaps even a husband, though she wore no wedding ring.
Did that mean she was unmarried?
Perhaps she’d be able to tell him after the doctor did his examination.
Jesse sat down.
Mikey pulled a children’s book from the nearby table and handed it to Jesse. “Read me.” He waited for Jesse to take him on his knee.
Jesse lifted him up and turned the pages of a brightly colored book. “Ball. Cat. Dog. Apple.” He read the words and pointed out the pictures without paying attention as he tipped his head toward the door, listening to the murmur of voices.
Mikey repeated each word.
The outer door squeaked and young Clarence poked his head in. Clarence often helped Jesse. “Didn’t see anyone waiting for the stagecoach. Asked at the store and at the hotel.”
“Thanks.” Why was no one waiting for her? What had brought her to town?
He jerked toward the inner door as it opened.
“Mikey, can you read the book by yourself while I talk to the sheriff?” the doctor asked.
“’Kay.”
Jesse rose, transferred the boy to the chair, settled him with the book, then followed the doctor into the examining room. “Is she alright?” he asked.
Doc Baker nodded. “A concussion is the only injury I found. It’s responsible for her loss of memory.”
Emily looked ready to cry and Jesse went to her side. He didn’t reach for her hand. He had no right. But she took his and squeezed with a strength that surprised him.
“What if I don’t remember?” Her voice shook with tension.
“Now don’t you worry, miss. You’ve been in an accident. You’ve banged your head. Your memory will return in its own good time. Don’t push it or fret. That only interferes with healing.”
Her grip tightened. Jesse squeezed back.
“What’s going to happen to me? To him?” She nodded toward the room where Mikey waited. “If he’s my son, wouldn’t I remember? But if he’s not, then why do I have him with me?”
Doc patted her hand. “You aren’t wearing a wedding ring so I would think you are unmarried. As to who Mikey is to you...well there could be any number of explanations. Perhaps he’s a nephew or the child of a friend you planned to meet.”
Jesse could have informed the doctor that he didn’t sound at all convincing.
“But what are we to do?” Emily wailed.
“I’ll take you home to my grandmother.” Jesse had already told her that, but perhaps she hadn’t thought he meant it. Or had she forgotten that, too?
“There you go.” Doc stepped back, his job done. “Mrs. Whitley will take good care of you. As will Jesse.” Doc gave Jesse a look that informed him he better do so.
“I sure will.” It was all he could do not to wrap his arm about her shoulders and hold her tight. Her situation made him feel protective. “It’s my job.”
He helped Emily to her feet. In the waiting room, he scooped Mikey into one arm. As they stepped outside, he offered his elbow to Emily and she clung to it. Whether out of fear of her unknown future or out of lingering dizziness, he couldn’t say. In either case, he meant to make sure she was okay before he let her out of his sight.
She shivered and he pulled her tighter to his side. Then he realized she shivered from cold, not concern. Dark, rain-filled clouds scudded across the sky.
If he didn’t get back to the stagecoach before the rain came, any trail the thieves had left would be washed away.
But he couldn’t go until he had Emily and Mikey in his grandmother’s care.
The wind picked up in velocity. The sky darkened. He hurried them toward home. He reached the gate and nudged it open.
Emily held back, studying the house.
He followed the direction of her troubled gaze. “The house is twelve years old. It was built when old Mr. Marshall started Bella Creek so people wouldn’t have to live in the rough mining town of Wolf Hollow if they didn’t want to.” His home was two stories. Four bedrooms upstairs. The main floor had a room used for Grandmother’s seamstress business, as well as a welcoming kitchen and a cozy living room. At least, that’s how he viewed them.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to my grandmother.” He put Mikey down and held out his hand to invite her to join him.
She held back. “She doesn’t know me.” Her eyes came to him. “I don’t know me. Maybe I’m someone you wouldn’t want to know. Maybe I’ve done something wrong.”
“Have you?” Maybe the direct approach would unlock her memories.
She held his gaze for a moment, then her eyes darkened. “I—I think—” She shook her head.
“Remember what the doctor said. Don’t try too hard.”
She nodded, relief clearing her eyes.
Was it possible she did have a checkered past? Was she running from someone or something?
It was his duty to find out who she was, and if her past involved breaking the law, he would deal with that according to his sworn duty. He would not be fooled by her innocent looks.
Copyright © 2018 by Linda Ford
ISBN-13: 9781488087295
The Rancher Inherits a Family
Copyright © 2018 by Harlequin Books S.A.
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without
the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
The Rancher Inherits a Family Page 25
