Page 8 of Montana Lawman Rescuer
Mikey stood in the doorway, studied the room a moment and then turned to face the women. “Mem, mem, mem, mem.”
“What is he saying?” Mrs. Whitley asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps he’s asking for his mama.” Emily knelt to face Mikey. “Honey, I don’t know what you mean.”
He nodded and stuck his thumb in his mouth. His wide blue eyes studied her.
She got the feeling she’d disappointed him. But she had no idea why. She rose. “We’ll be very comfortable. Thank you.”
Mrs. Whitley nodded. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Emily knew the woman couldn’t give her what she needed the most—answers about who she was.
“Now, come along, and I’ll show you my favorite room of the house.” They followed her back down the stairs and across the living room to the door from which she had burst not long ago.
Emily followed her into a room full of fabric and a large table on which Mrs. Whitley had been cutting out a garment. An open cupboard held various colored threads and several pincushions. In the corner stood a dress form. Emily circled the room, touching several things. “This feels familiar.”
“Good. Feel free to explore. It might help you remember.”
Emily lifted a big pair of cutting shears, balancing them in one hand and then the other. She had handled a pair like this. She could see herself sewing a seam, feel the pride she took in her tiny, even stitches. But nothing more would come, and she set the scissors aside with a sigh.
“Anything?” Mrs. Whitley asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Well, not to worry.” She turned to Mikey. “I think I might have a few toys around. Would you like to help me find them?”
Mikey smiled. “’Kay.”
Emily followed them from the room, pausing at the doorway to look back. The sense of familiarity lingered, but nothing more came.
Mrs. Whitley opened a cupboard that revealed a space under the stairs. “Look at that. A whole box of toys.” She pulled the box toward them. “Mikey, have a look and see if there is anything you’d like to play with.”
The boy knelt and took out a ball, a collection of farm animals, several books, and a little wagon. He soon played happily.
Emily looked around, at a loss as to what she should do. “Were you making something?” She nodded toward the sewing room.
“I am making several dresses for a Mrs. Abernathy. She’s in the family way, and none of her clothes fit. Would you like to see what I’m doing?”
“Yes, please.” Emily moved Mikey and the toys closer to the door where she could watch him. As she straightened, the room tipped sideways. She sank to the floor, clutching her head in her hands.
Mrs. Whitley rushed to her side. “Forgive me. What was I thinking to drag you all over the house? Jesse will be unhappy with me.” She tsked. “Can you make it to the sofa?”
Emily struggled to her feet, clinging to the older woman’s hand. Mrs. Whitley wasn’t a big woman, but she put her arm about Emily’s waist and guided her to the couch with every bit as much strength as Emily had felt in Mrs. Whitley’s grandson.
Emily practically fell to the couch and leaned her head against the back. The room continued to circle and sway.
Mikey followed them and leaned against Emily’s knees.
She wanted to reassure him, but opening her eyes churned her stomach.
“Lie down and rest.” Mrs. Whitley placed a pillow beneath her head and pulled the green afghan over her. “Would a cold cloth to your forehead help?” She rushed away to get such before Emily could answer and placed it on her forehead.
“Thank you.” The coolness soothed her head.
“Just rest. We’ll be quiet. Won’t we, Mikey?”
Emily listened to them slip away to the kitchen. Their voices came from a dark tunnel.Lord Jesus, please make my dizziness go away and bring back my memory.
