Montana Lawman Rescuer

He caught her before she hit the ground and swept her into his arms.

She clung to his firm shoulders. “Those poor men.” The driver and the shotgun rider were both dead. She and the boy were alive, but she didn’t remember her name. Or a destination. It was too much and she wept.

His arms tightened around her. “It’s okay.” He didn’t seem in the least flustered by her emotions. “I’ll take you to see the doctor. He’ll be able to fix you up.”

“I hope so.” Her words were interspersed with sobs. “But what if he can’t?” She couldn’t hold back the wail but she quickly choked it off. “‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. In God I have put my trust; I will not fear.’” The scripture verse had never meant more to her. Not even when...

But she couldn’t remember.

“Psalm Fifty-six,” the sheriff said. “Hang on to those thoughts.”

“Thank you, sheriff. Did anyone tell you that you have an encouraging way about you?”

“Sure, my grandmother says it all the time.” He smiled at her, his face so close to hers she could see the dark shadow of his whiskers, the smile lines about his eyes and something in his gaze that filled her with courage. “And seeing as I have no choice but to use your name, you best use mine and call me Jesse.”

“Thank you, Jesse.” She meant for more than the use of his name.

He lifted her to the wagon seat. “My pleasure.”

She closed her eyes as another body was placed in the wagon box. Then the two men climbed into the back. Jesse sat beside her on the seat and flicked the reins. She pulled Mikey to her knees, finding comfort in the warmth of his small body.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Bella Creek, Montana. Does that name ring a bell?”

She rolled the name—Bella Creek—round and round in her head. “Nothing. Not even the faintest chime.” Montana. That would be why she saw mountains nearby. Why was she here?

He grinned at her. “Maybe someone is waiting for you.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Except she didn’t feel any sense of looking forward to joining anyone. She grabbed Jesse’s arm and hung on like a drowning woman to a life buoy. “But what if there isn’t? Where will I go?”

“Now, don’t you worry. If no one is meeting you, then I will take you to my grandmother. You can stay there until we sort things out.” His smile was gentle, promising to keep her safe. Was it the star on his chest that made her feel that way? Or the fact he had rescued her? Or was it the plain and simple fear that she was alone without any knowledge of who she was?

* * *

Jesse Hill had known something was amiss when the stagecoach was more than an hour late. Hoping he’d find it broken down, he’d gone looking. When he saw the wrecked coach at the bottom of an incline, he had approached with caution. It might well have been a simple accident, but having been a sheriff for four of his twenty-five years and having worked with the sheriff before him since he was twelve, he knew better than to ride mindlessly toward such a scene.

First he’d seen the bodies of two men. He had recognized the driver and his partner.

Nerves twitching at evidence that a crime had been committed, he’d studied the stagecoach, waiting for someone to make a sound should there be anyone hiding. A movement to the right had jerked his gaze in that direction and he’d seen a child sitting on the ground.

And then he’d seen the woman.

She’d clutched at her head and moaned.

He’d hunkered down before her, spoken to her.

Her eyes had jerked toward him and she’d blinked as if trying to bring him into focus. Dark blue eyes. Golden-blond hair matted with dirt. He’d guessed her to be in her twenties, though he was not a good judge of young women. She wore a navy skirt and blue flowered shirtwaist, now streaked with dirt and torn at the elbow.

He had waited for her to sort out her thoughts and then asked her name.

He’d wanted to soothe her when she couldn’t remember. And now she clung to his arm like she was afraid to let go. The little boy snuggled against her as if he knew he was safe in her arms. That alone convinced him she was a good woman.

Was the boy her son? Why else would he be traveling with her? And where was she going with him?

“I will help you figure out who you are.” They approached Bella Creek. “First, I’ll take you to the doctor so he can examine both of you.”

He pulled to a halt before the doctor’s house. “You wait there until I help you.” He had visions of her trying to climb down on her own and getting dizzy. Perhaps incurring another blow to her head. He gave the two men with him instructions to take the bodies to the undertaker. “Then check and see if anyone is waiting for the stagecoach.”

He ran around to take Mikey and set him on the ground, then he reached up to lift Emily down. She was of medium height and weighed hardly a thing. Though he might be feeling just a bit protective of her.

He took Mikey by one hand and Emily by the other and led them into the doctor’s office.

Doc Baker looked up, saw the condition of Emily’s clothes and bounded to his feet. “What do we have here?”

“They were passengers on the stagecoach. It’s been robbed. I found it at the bottom of Knotley’s Hill.”

“The driver and his friend?”

He led Emily to the nearest chair and she sank to it with a groan before he answered the doc. “They’re in the back of the wagon.”

Doc nodded, understanding his meaning. “I’m sorry.”

Jesse drew the doctor a few steps away. “This is Emily and Mikey. Emily can’t remember anything but her first name.”

Doc nodded. “I’ll examine her.” He turned his attention to his patients. “Shall I look at the youngster first?” Doc didn’t expect an answer. “How about you sit up here, young man?” He patted the examining table.

“’Kay.” Mikey scrambled up and sat facing the doctor, his eyes revealing wariness.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Doc ran his hands along the boy’s body as he spoke. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Mikey rattled off an explanation that was mostly unintelligible. Between the odd word Jesse understood and the way Mikey waved his arms, Jesse understood bad guys had chased them. They shot guns and then they flew through the air. “Owie.” He pulled up his trousers to show a scraped knee.

Doc examined it carefully. “I think it needs a cleaning and a dressing. What do you think?”

Mikey nodded. “’Kay.”

Doc poured water into a basin and gently cleaned the wound, then covered it with a wide swath of bandaging. “How’s that?”

Mikey nodded. “Good.”

Jesse watched Emily as she kept her attention on Mikey and the doctor. A tender smile curved her lips. This boy seemed to hold a special place in her heart.

Doc helped Mikey from the table. “Now let’s look at the young lady. Jesse, would you take Mikey into the waiting room? I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Jesse held his hand out to the boy. Mikey hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Emily said. “Go along with the nice man.”