Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was Sunday, and Emily studied her reflection in the mirror. She wanted to go to church with Jesse and his grandmother. Truly she did. But to face all those people, not knowing who she was...well, she wondered how she’d do it.
She squared her shoulders and fixed her hair. She would do it in God’s strength, and she’d never let anyone guess how uncomfortable it made her. Well, no one but Jesse. She’d leaned on him emotionally and physically since he’d rescued her.
The mirror over the chest of drawers showed her likeness. Too bad it didn’t reveal more about her than the shape of her face and the color of her eyes. What she really wanted to see, needed to see, was who she was.
She looked away from the mirror at the sound of Mikey’s voice from downstairs.
They’d had breakfast, and she’d dressed him in clean clothes and left him with Jesse while she changed into the gray dress that Annie had brought her.
Mikey squealed, and Jesse laughed—a deep melodious sound.
She pictured Jesse chasing the boy, catching him, and tossing him up into the air.
With her shoulder against the door frame, she stood there, listening not only to the two downstairs but to the thoughts in her head. Why did she hear the sound of many children laughing? Not hers. She was almost certain of that. Then whose?
And why had Mikey been sent with her?
With a deep sigh, she went down the stairs, prepared to ignore her fears and face a church full of people. It didn’t matter that they were strangers to her. What mattered was that she was a stranger to herself.
She stepped into the living room, her presence announced by a bark from Muffin.
Jesse was bent over Mikey, tickling him, but straightened at Muffin’s greeting. His glance swept over her, and he met her gaze.
“You look very nice.”
“Thank you. So do you.” His black hair gleamed. His face, cleanly shaven, still revealed the dark shadow of his whiskers. He wore black trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a black vest.
“Where’s your star?” She’d gotten used to seeing it and feeling safe.
He turned back the lapel of his vest to reveal it pinned to his shirt.
“Good.”
He quirked an eyebrow, asking for an explanation.
Heat rose in her cheeks at how much she’d revealed about her dependence on him. “What if you need to be sheriff before we get back?” She turned her attention to the bird. “How are you, Dickie?”
The bird flapped his wings and scolded her.
“Dickie, behave yourself.” Gram hurried from the kitchen wearing a hat and carrying gloves.
Emily had neither. She could use the lack as an excuse to miss church. Except she needed to be with other believers and find strength in the worship service.
Gram hurried up the stairs and returned with gloves and a pretty gray bonnet. “I’d like you to use these.”
Both grateful and regretful that she would have no reason to stay away from the service, she thanked the woman and went to the kitchen and the little mirror to put on the bonnet.
“It’s a very fine bonnet. Looks good on you.” Jesse stood in the doorway watching, Mikey perched in his arms, looking as if he belonged there.
A warning bell sounded in her head. The little guy was becoming very fond of Jesse. He was going to be hurt when he had to leave to go wherever he would go now. Presumably back to where they came from and whoever had sent them, and there they would wait for the Newmans to make arrangements.
The sooner she remembered who she was, the better for everyone involved.
She stared at the wall where the mirror hung, but she wasn’t looking at her reflection.
Remember who you are. Why were you on the stagecoach?
Who are your parents? Where are you from?
Remember. You must remember. Her head began to ache. Tension pressed against her heart.
“Are you ready?”
She welcomed Jesse’s interruption. “Maybe going to church will bring back my memory.”
He nodded and escorted her out the door.
“Where’s Gram?”
“She left so she could get there a little early. She likes to sit in the church before it fills up. Says it helps prepare her for the service.”
Emily smiled. “That’s what my grandmother said, too.” She spoke slowly as the memory came. “My grandmother wore her gray hair in a bun and had a jolly laugh.” The memory ended. “I can’t bring forth a face or a name. What is wrong with me?” The question sounded like a wail.
“You’ve lost your memory. It’s frightening and frustrating. But the doctor was certain it would return.” He paused. “If it hasn’t come back by tomorrow morning, do you want to see the doctor again?”
“Yes! He might have something that will make it come back.”
They reached the church, and any more discussion about her lack of memory would have to wait.
Jesse paused. “I’ll introduce you as Miss Emily Smith. Most people will let it go at that. Word is getting around that you were on the stagecoach and had a blow to the head.”
Jesse grinned at Mikey. “They will have nothing but admiration for this fine young man.”
“Mem, mem, mem,” Mikey said.
She and Jesse met each other’s eyes and smiled. She squared her shoulders and nodded.
He understood and stepped forward, pausing at the first person they met. “Mrs. Abernathy, this is Miss Emily Smith.”
Mrs. Abernathy. The woman Gram was sewing clothes for. Why could she remember that and not her own identity? She greeted the other woman, and they moved on.
Jesse introduced her to each person as they made their way toward the steps.
Then she saw Annie. She knew immediately that the tall men near her were her brothers and that the older man was her father.
The white-haired man leaning on two canes would be her grandfather.
He might be crippled, but his bearing and his expression still shouted authority.
Like she’d said, these men were used to having their wishes obeyed.
The three women near Annie would be her sisters-in-law and the children were her nieces and nephews.
As Jesse led her toward the group, Emily tilted her chin upward.
She had nothing to fear from these people.
Do what’s right and good in the sight of the Lord: that it may be well with thee.
A Bible verse from Deuteronomy 6:18. Why, she inwardly bemoaned, could she remember this detail but not who she was?
One by one, Jesse introduced the Marshall family. Dawson and his wife, Isabelle, and their seven-year-old daughter Mattie. Emily wondered if Isabelle was in the family way.
Then there was Conner and Kate and a little girl, Ellie, who was about a year old.
“Conner and I have been best friends for a long time,” Jesse said.
Conner planted a playful punch on his shoulder. “We’ve had some good times together.”
The third brother edged his way between them. “I’m Logan, and this is my sweet wife, Sadie. Kids, introduce yourselves.”
An almost grown girl said her name was Beth. A young boy of seven, if she could remember the details Jesse had provided, said he was Sammy. A shy little blonde girl with big brown eyes said, “I’m Jeannie. I’m four.” She turned to Mikey. “How old are you?”
He tried to hold up three fingers, but one kept escaping. “’Most free.” He worked hard to get the words out as clearly as possible.
Annie pulled her husband forward. “Hugh, this is Emily that I told you about.”
The man gave her a welcoming smile, then excused himself. “I have to get to the front of the church.”
Annie drew a little boy from behind her. “This is Evan. He’s almost five now.”
Emily met Bud Marshall, father of the Marshall brood.
The man on canes edged forward. “They leave the best to the last. That’s me. Everyone calls me Grandfather. I’d be honored if you’d do the same.”
She took the gnarled hand he held out to her. “It would be my honor.” She held his steady gaze. His blue eyes were as bright as any of his descendants’. He nodded as he studied her, and she wondered what he saw.
“You’ll do just fine.”
“Grandfather!” Annie scolded.
“I’ll do for what?” Emily asked.
“Be an addition to our community.”
“I don’t think—”
Grandfather waved aside Annie’s protest. “I can tell you are a good and kind woman. Just the sort we need around here.”
Annie mumbled something about him being surrounded by good, kind women but Emily only vaguely heard her. And Annie’s grandfather ignored her completely.
“How can you say that?” Emily asked. “You don’t even know me.”
“At my age, I can look into a person’s eyes and know what’s in here.” He patted his chest.
“Oh, just humor him,” Annie said. “He’s getting old and crotchety.”
Grandfather scowled at his granddaughter. “You’ve gotten sharp-tongued since you married Hugh. And him a preacher. One would think—”
But whatever he’d been about to say was drowned out by his grandsons’ laughter.
Conner sobered enough to explain. “She’s always been that way. No need to blame the preacher.”
It was time to go inside, and Jesse guided her to a pew. The Marshalls sat ahead, their family taking up several rows.
The grandfather might be old. For all she knew, he said things that were far-fetched, and yet his words that she was a good and kind person encouraged her. Now, if only she could discover who that person was.
Hugh took his place at the pulpit and led them in singing hymns. She knew every word of the songs. Beside her, Jesse held Mikey, who snuggled into his arms. It didn’t surprise her that Jesse had a good voice. It was a joy to sing with him.
Then Hugh opened his Bible. “Today, I want to talk about the one lost sheep. No one is ever lost in God’s sight.
” He proceeded to tell how his son had been lost to him, but God had enabled him to find the boy.
“Whether you are lost in the woods or lost spiritually, God sees you. Ask Him to help you find your way back home and to Him.”
Emily drank in the words. She would trust God. He would bring her to herself.
Preacher Hugh announced the closing hymn—Amazing Grace.