Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next day was Sunday, and Emily jumped from bed. Jesse was home. Of course, that was not the reason for this bubble of joy inside her heart. Well, maybe in part. She’d again realized how his feelings about his mother had shaped him into the man he was—strong, unbending.
Knowing he saw the world in black and white stopped her eager morning preparations. If her past contained something—anything—unpleasant, she would be seen as black. Jesse had made that clear. There would be no welcome for her here.
She shivered. Something about Fred Ellesworth unsettled her. Had she really known such an unsavory man in the past? It didn’t speak well for the kind of woman she’d been. She tried to dismiss the thought, but it weighed heavily on her mind as she finished dressing and made her way downstairs.
Mikey and Gram were in the kitchen. Emily had heard Jesse go down the stairs, but he wasn’t in the room.
Gram answered her puzzled look. “Jesse went to check on things at the jail. He said he’d be back for breakfast.”
Emily’s steps were measured as she set the table. Was he avoiding her? Seeing her as an echo of his mother?
When Jesse stepped through the door, a smile widened her mouth and then fled as she tried to gauge his feelings. Their gazes connected. He smiled, and her insides warmed. If only her life could begin right here. For a moment, she considered forgetting any effort to discover who she was.
But then Jesse’s smile disappeared, and he turned away, but not before she caught the doubt and uncertainty in her eyes.
She helped serve the meal, her joy quenched by the dreadful possibilities of what she might have been.
Soon afterward, they left for church. “It’s good to be free of the threat of those men,” she said. The fear of being recognized by them and in danger was gone. She could go anywhere she wanted now.
So many people greeted them and thanked Jesse for capturing the bad guys that it took longer than usual to get inside the church.
When they did, Emily slipped in beside Gram with Mikey between herself and Jesse.
She released a satisfied breath. Her peace was short-lived as Fred Ellesworth sat in a pew across the aisle.
He looked her way, his gaze demanding before it slipped to Jesse at her side and then rested on Mikey.
Something about the way he studied the boy made her grip Mikey’s hand.
Hugh approached the pulpit and announced the opening hymn, and Emily ignored the man across the aisle. He meant nothing to her despite his claims.
Ignoring him proved more difficult than she anticipated, as at the end of the service, he waited for her to step into the aisle and then followed her. He leaned close to speak softly. “Your sheriff might be interested in knowing more about you.”
She forced herself not to react, though every nerve in her body twitched, and she had an incredible urge to slap the man’s face.
Jesse was several steps ahead, surrounded by eager people grateful for the work he’d done. As Fred drew closer, Emily noticed that several of those at Jesse’s side gave the man a frightened look and scurried away.
What was that all about? Had Jesse noticed? But, of course, he had.
She joined him and couldn’t stop herself from resting her hand in the crook of his elbow, even though he stiffened and studied Fred Ellesworth. She needed the strength and courage Jesse’s physical closeness provided.
The dark cloud in the back of her mind that had been her company since the stagecoach accident swirled with fears that she could not calm.
The next day, she learned she had reason to be fearful. Jesse came home for the noon meal with a troubled look on his face. Her first thought was that the trio in the jail had escaped, and her heart raced.
“Emily, can we talk?”
She left Mikey with Gram and followed him outside. They went to the little bench, but somehow, she knew this would not be a pleasant interlude like the ones they’d previously shared at this spot. Her knees shook, but he didn’t sit, so she didn’t, either.
He paced away three steps, rubbed the back of his neck, then slowly turned. His face was a plane of hard lines, and she shivered.
“Did they escape?” It was the worst thing she could think of.
He crossed his arms over his chest. The action made her feel very alone and afraid. “I had a caller this morning.”
She nodded. People were eager to heap praise on him, and it was well deserved.
“Your Mr. Ellesworth paid me a call.”
Her mouth twisted as she thought of the man’s boldness. “He’s not my Mr. Ellesworth.”
Jesse went on as if she hadn’t voiced a protest. “He told me a story.”
Emily stiffened, sensing the story was about her and wasn’t anything she wanted to hear.
“He said he knew you in Lincoln, Nebraska. He offered his hand in marriage but withdrew the offer after you spent the night with a man and made no secret about it.” The way Jesse’s lip curled matched the way her insides reacted.
“He said your reputation was ruined to the point you left town in disgrace. According to him, your aunt arranged for you to join her. I might have had doubt, but he said your aunt lived in Alliance.” Jesse turned away, disgust clear in his expression. It seemed he couldn’t bear to look at her.
Her insides had grown so brittle she feared her next breath would shatter them into a thousand fragments. Could it be possible? Was she really that sort of woman? Why couldn’t she remember?
“One more thing.”
She forced herself to remain standing, though she had lost all feeling in her legs.
“Mr. Ellesworth suggests Mikey is your child. The time from when you left Lincoln would indicate it might be so.”
She let out a wail and collapsed to the bench, rocking back and forth over her knees. How could it be so? Was she really a fallen woman? “Can it be true?” Please, God, make it not so. Was this why she didn’t want to remember?
“I didn’t want to believe him. But a letter came from Alliance today.”
She sat up. “Someone who knows me?” Someone besides the horrible Mr. Ellesworth?
“Why don’t I read it to you?”
She nodded.
“It’s from a woman who runs the Alliance Home for Children. She signs her letter as Matron Hilda.”
“The Aunt Hilda of the letter in my Bible?” She wanted it to be good news, but the look on Jesse’s face warned her it might be otherwise. Although he was less than a yard away from her, it felt as if a huge chasm had divided the ground between them.
“It would seem so. She says Miss Emily Smith has worked at the orphanage for four years, having been highly recommended by her aunt, Mrs. Martha Morgan. She knows Miss Smith came from Lincoln but has little information apart from that. She says the woman is a great help, wonderful with the children, and an asset to the home. The plan was for the boy, Michael, to be delivered to adoptive parents, but the adoption has fallen through, and the Matron requests that Miss Smith bring him back.”
Jesse flipped the paper closed. “Everything confirms what Mr. Ellesworth says.” Except that Mikey was Emily’s child. He had only her word against Mr. Ellesworth’s. If only Mikey’s age didn’t fit the time Emily went to work at the orphanage.
Emily studied her hands, unable to look at Jesse. A moment later, his footsteps faded away, taking with him every hope for her future.
She was a fallen woman. She knew Jesse would never see her as anything but a reflection of his mother. A woman he despised. He would feel the same toward Emily.
One thing she knew without a doubt. Mikey was not her child. She would never have allowed him to be adopted by someone and lose touch with him.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, immersed in misery, before she began to think. Her shaky weakness gave way to determination, and she rose and went to the house.
Thankfully, Jesse had departed. Her strength might not have lasted if she had to face him.
Gram’s face was full of sympathy.
“I can’t stay here any longer,” Emily said and went upstairs to pack. It was all well and good for this Matron Hilda to say she should take Mikey back to Alliance, but how was she to do that? She was penniless, homeless, and a woman with a shameful past.
She folded her few clothes into the basket. Even her clothes were not her own. She did the same for Mikey’s clothes, pressing each little garment to her lips. Oh, Mikey, if you were really mine, I would never let you go.
Gram came upstairs. “You don’t have to leave. You will always be welcome here.”
“I don’t think everyone shares your opinion.”
“Jesse can be a little hardheaded at times, but he’s got a good heart. He’ll come round.”
Emily paused at her task and faced the older woman. “He has never forgiven his mother for her choices in life.”
Gram nodded. “Like I say, he can be hard.”
“He sees me as a copy of his mother. If he can’t forgive her, I know he’ll never grant me anything but his disdain.”
Gram looked so sad that Emily wanted to hug her, but she wasn’t sure how people would react after hearing Mr. Ellesworth’s story. And she had no way of knowing if it was true or not.
“Where will you go?”
“I intend to throw myself on the mercy of the preacher and his wife.”
“At least let me pay you for your help with the sewing.”
“Absolutely not. You’ve given me a home for the past month.
It is I who owe you.” Her belongings were gathered up, her Bible on the top of her things.
At least she had One friend she could count on.
Jesus had promised to be with her always.
She found comfort and strength in that assurance even as her throat closed off with pain she would not give voice to.
Downstairs, she called Mikey to her. The boy took in the packed basket and gave her a surprised look.
“We go?” he asked.
“We’re going to stay with Evan and his mama and papa.” If they’ll have us. There was every reason to think they would not. “Or we might find some other place.”
“Yesse go?”
“No, sweetie. Jesse has to stay with Gram and take care of her.”