Page 71 of Montana Lawman Rescuer
He glanced up and down the street and urged her to her feet. “Come inside.”
She let him guide her to the couch, and, at his gentle pressure, she sat.
“Can I look at it?” He held his hand toward the bit of cloth, no doubt wondering why it had triggered such a response.
Her arms held it tighter. “It’s my favorite shirtwaist. Mama made it for me.” Moaning, she leaned over her knees and braced herself against the storm of emotions rushing toward her. “I can picture Mama standing in the kitchen, smiling as she talked to me while she stirred a pot. She loved me.” Her rocking grew frantic.
Jesse rubbed her back, keeping silent, as if knowing she had gone deep into her thoughts, trying to capture more of what her mother looked like, what her name was, where she lived...anything.
She sat up and leaned against Jesse’s shoulder needing his strength and support.
Would he accept her if her past was sullied? She knew he wouldn’t, but right now, she needed the comfort he gave so willingly.
“Can I look at it now? I might find a clue about you or—” He didn’t finish. Didn’t need to. His main concern was to find the brutes who had destroyed her favorite garment.
She forced her arms to release the shirtwaist to him and watched as he unfolded it. The holes in the fabric were cut, not torn. Deliberate. Blood and dirt soiled it in several areas.
She shuddered. “Is it meant as a warning?”
“It’s the only explanation for how it was delivered.” His voice was deep, and she shivered. He was angry. His eyes were hard, his mouth a tight line.
“It’s my fault.”
His expression softened. “I don’t see how.”
“If I hadn’t—I should have—” She couldn’t explain the feeling that she’d done something terribly wrong that had put her in this position.
“It’s not your fault.” He looked deep into her eyes. “What do you remember of your mother?”
“Nothing more than what I said.” She closed her eyes tight and tried to find more memories of the woman. “She loved me.” Her eyes flew open. “I said loved. Does that mean she’s passed away?” Agony gripped her, and she groaned. “Who am I?”
Jesse held her and spoke comforting words. Eventually, she heard what he said.
“Any day now, we will hear from the sheriff in Alliance.”
“And then what?” She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
“Then we can learn who you are and find your family.”
She bit back the fear that she wasn’t going to like who she was and that her family no longer existed. He’d surely heardenough of her irrational fears. “Could that man I saw have recognized me from the robbery?” She wanted him to say no. How was it possible? She’d been unconscious, presumably dead. Or had he recognized her from another part of her life? Or heard talk around town about her and realized she might constitute a threat. How could he know or believe she wouldn’t be able to identify him?
“Someone has a need to warn you. I can’t think of any other reason than they fear you can recognize them as the murdering thieves.”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “What about Mikey? Is he in danger?”
“They’ll know he’s too young to be a witness.”
The uncertainty in Jesse’s voice did nothing to comfort her.
“I need to bring him back.” She would never feel he was safe unless he was in her care. But he’d been in her care when this happened. “Perhaps he isn’t safe with me.”
“You are both safe.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
He caught her restless hands. “I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm. And when I can’t provide you with protection, God will.”
The words settled into her soul, and she inhaled the first satisfying breath she’d taken since she saw the shirtwaist at her feet.
