LITMIR.BIZ

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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

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