Page 26 of Montana Lawman Rescuer
Mikey looked from the offered treat to the dog and slowly released Muffin. He stood, his fists curled and his jaw set.
Jesse looked at Emily and saw that she, too, was fighting her emotions. If only he could change things for all of them, but the boy was spoken for, and Emily needed to find out who she was. He took Mikey’s hand and the picnic basket and settled them in the wagon before going back to get their bags.
Gram wrapped Emily in her arms. “I wish you nothing but the best. However, if things don’t work out, you are always welcome here.”
Emily sniffed. “Thank you for everything.” She clung to Gram a second longer, then headed for the door without glancing back.
Gram caught Jesse’s arm. “Make sure they are okay before you leave them.”
“I will.” He hurried to help Emily to the seat, stowed their things, and climbed up beside her. He sat motionless, unable to bring himself to flick the reins. If she spoke one word of doubt, he would leave them both with Gram and go explain to the Newmans there’d been a change of plans.
She glanced in his direction, then away again, and said nothing. Her wishes were plain to see.
“Giddyap.” The wheels turned slowly at first. He could halt the wagon in an instant. But no one uttered a word. He glanced at Mikey. The boy’s bottom lip trembled. Jesse looked at Emily. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set hard, her hands clenched so tight her knuckles were white marbles.
The town fell behind them, and the open road lay ahead. It would take several hours to reach the place George had described. How would he endure watching Mikey and Emily in such misery for the length of the trip?
“I wonder if there’s a little boy who would like to help drive the wagon?” he asked.
Mikey jerked toward him, his eyes wide with surprise. “Me?”
“Yup. You’re the best boy for the job.” Jesse pulled Mikey to his knees and cupped the little hands in one of his.
Mikey took his task very seriously and spoke orders to the horses. Of course, neither the adults nor the horses understood a word.
Jesse shifted closer to Emily. “If you’re not happy with the situation, you can change your mind.”
“I know. But I wouldn’t leave Mikey on his own until he’s settled.”
He’d meant Mikey as well as Emily, but he didn’t say that. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the beauty of the drive because you’re worried.”
“Who says I’m worried?”
He wrapped his arm around her stiff shoulders. “You are so tense I could rest a board across here, and the muscles in your cheeks are twitching.”
She relaxed her shoulders and gave a smile that was almost a grimace. “All gone. See.”
He chuckled. “Good. Now look around you. See the mountain peaks. Some people like them best with snowcaps. I like them this time of year, all blue and moody.”
She looked at him. “Why Jesse Hill. I think you might be a poet.”
Thankfully, his dark skin would hide his blush.
She touched his cheeks. “Too much sun?” Her innocent tone did not fool him. His skin had given away his embarrassment. She smiled and shifted her attention to the mountains. “‘As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the LORD is round about his people from henceforth even forever.’” She slowly faced him. “The Lord is with us. He will guide and protect.”
He nodded. He knew it and wanted her to find comfort in the words, but sometimes, it was hard to let the Lord run things when they seemed to be going in a direction he didn’t care for.
She continued. “I have been praying to regain my memory, and this journey is the only thing I have that provides direction.”
What could he say? He wanted her to get her memory back. Wanted her to learn her past and who she was. The trouble was, even in such a short time, he’d grown to like who she was in the present. He knew she might forget him when her memory returned.
He should be used to being forgotten after all the times his mother seemed to have done so. And then Agnes. And the other girls he’d not allowed himself to grow fond of. Which, he freely admitted, might explain why they’d so readily moved on to other beaus.
They stopped at a little stream for the picnic Gram had prepared. He spread a gray woolen blanket for them to sit on, though Mikey wasn’t interested in sitting. He ran. He paused to turn over rocks and study the beetles scurrying away. He ran some more, skidding to a halt to look at the leaves overhead. He saw a crow’s nest. A raucous cawing protested the intrusion, and Mikey jumped up and down in glee.
Jesse and Emily sat on the blanket, laughing at Mikey’s antics.
The boy turned to them and said, “Bird.” His face worked. “Gram, bird.” With a cry, he threw himself into Emily’s arms.
