Page 83 of Montana Lawman Rescuer
“I know, and I’m going along with it to make up for lost time.” And to create moments to cherish in the future. He’d convinced himself he’d never marry, but he’d hoped Emilywould see him differently. He’d thought she did. But what if she got her memory back and forgot him? Or if her past revealed something he wasn’t prepared to deal with? All good reasons to wait.
But the thought left him aching clear through.
“Come on, little cowboy, get on my back, and I’ll give you a horsey ride to bed.”
Mikey eagerly jumped on his back, and Jesse trotted upstairs, making all the appropriate noises. He helped the boy say his prayers and tucked him under the covers. Mikey insisted on several noisy kisses.
As Jesse tiptoed toward the door, Mikey sat up. “You no go `gain?”
It took a minute for Jesse to realize the little guy was afraid Jesse would go away. He hadn’t been much older than Mikey when he began to ask his mother not to go, but she always did, leaving him alone and bereft, and feeling like he didn’t matter to her.
He returned to sit on Mikey’s bed and hugged him to his side. “If I have to leave, I will let you know. Okay? And I will always come back.” But who would promise Mikey the same once he left?
He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t face the pain he felt.
“’Kay.” Mikey allowed Jesse to cover him up again and snuggled into his pillow.
Jesse waited a few minutes to make sure he’d settled, then went downstairs.
Emily took one look at his face and set aside her book. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. No. Gram, do you mind listening for him? I need to talk to Emily.”
“Go ahead.” Emily did not ask what was bothering him, even though it was obvious something was. Her eyes were waryas if suspecting he meant to pursue her encounter with Mr. Ellesworth.
Wanting to provide a touch of reassurance, he reached for Emily’s hand and drew her out the back door. The garden breathed a sweet flower scent. The evening air had cooled, and they sat against the house.
“Jesse, what’s wrong?”
“I just realized how much Mikey is like me. Oh, I don’t mean in looks, but his circumstances.” He launched into telling how he’d felt sitting on Mikey’s bed. “He wanted to know if he could count on me. Do you know how many times I asked my mother to stay? I wanted to count on her. I suppose, with her occupation, it was a good thing she left me with my grandmother. But to this day, I wonder why she didn’t care enough to change who she was. Her reputation about ruined my life. It would have if Grandfather Marshall hadn’t stepped in and brought us out here.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “In my estimation, people should live honorable lives and avoid even the appearance of evil for the sake of those they care about.”
She took his hand. “I am so sorry about your past. I can’t imagine how much it hurts. I suppose it’s what makes you a good sheriff.”
“I’m a good sheriff?” He figured he was, but wanted to know why she thought so.
“Yes, you are. You have high ideals and allow no compromise. I suppose you see things as black and white.”
“There are no gray areas in my job.” He couldn’t see himself allowing such in his personal life either.
“I am a gray area.”
He stared at her. Did she have something to confess? Had that man—Fred Ellesworth—compromised her in any way? If he had, he would pay for it. “What do you mean by that?”
“I can’t remember my past, so I could be anything. Good or bad.” Her voice grew so soft he had to lean forward to catch the final words.
He cupped her head with his hand and turned her to face him. “I haven’t seen any wanted posters with your likeness on them, so I’ll assume you haven’t broken the law.”
Eyes as dark as the evening sky met his. “There are other ways of earning that label.”
He thought of his mother and the label she had earned and the one she had left him to bear. “Like being illegitimate?”
She caught his hand as he pulled away from her. “That’s not a fair label because it’s not one you earned.”
For the first time that he could remember, he realized the truth of her words. It had been someone else’s actions and choices that gave him the label, not anything he’d done. It was a freeing thought.
“I guess that’s so.”
“Like I said before, perhaps you ought to forgive your mother.”
