Montana Lawman Rescuer. Linda Ford

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