Whirlwind Baby. Debra Cowan
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The jail sat between the Pearl Restaurant, which Mr. Ross had told her about yesterday, and the blacksmithy. A hammer struck metal and Emma glanced over to see a large black man inside a frame shop working over an anvil. He nodded politely, and she nodded back.
The low rumble of people’s voices was broken by the clop of horses’ hooves. She managed to get down out of the wagon and pick up the baby from the seat before Mr. Ross rounded the horse. Across the street behind her, she noted Haskell’s General Store, a livery and a saloon.
She mounted the steps with her employer, pushing the glasses up her nose and tightening her hold on Molly. Despite the late August heat, Emma had worn a light shawl in an effort to make it less noticeable that she wasn’t wearing a corset.
Mr. Ross opened the door then followed her inside. The smells of pine and soap mixed with the clean male scent of the man who’d insisted she come. A handsome dark-haired man wearing a badge rose from behind a wide oak desk. A glass-front cabinet behind him held four shotguns. The lawman gave her a friendly smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “Howdy, ma’am. Jake.”
“Davis Lee Holt.” Mr. Ross took off his hat, gesturing toward Emma. “This is Miz York. She’s the lady we hired to care for the baby.”
“Miz York.” The sheriff smiled at Molly, who turned her head shyly into Emma’s neck.
The man seemed friendly and not the least suspicious, but that didn’t ease the tightness across Emma’s chest. Or keep her from mentally checking the derringer in her skirt pocket. On the wall behind him hung two Wanted posters and a notice about a circuit judge. Nothing about a runaway or kidnapped daughter. Which didn’t mean the sheriff was ignorant about her, just that there was nothing on that wall. Being on her guard, almost paranoid, was becoming second nature.
“Little Molly looks good.”
Emma wondered how the sheriff knew the child’s name, then recalled that Jake Ross had stopped by the jail the day he and his uncle had brought Molly to town to post flyers advertising for the position of baby nurse.
The rancher stepped up beside Emma, his big body surrounding her like a wall, close enough that she could feel the sun’s heat from his shirt. She wished this were over, wished she’d never had to come. If Mr. Ross hadn’t found her searching for her corset, she wouldn’t have mentioned a thing about it.
“What brings you two to town today?” The sheriff, who was two or three inches taller than the other man, eased down on the corner of his desk.
Mr. Ross glanced at Emma and said in a low voice, “If you’d rather speak to the sheriff alone, I can wait outside.”
“No,” she said quickly. The thought of him leaving her alone in the jail tied her stomach in a knot. Which just went to show how nervous she was about being face-to-face with the sheriff if she felt safer with Mr. Ross staying in here.
The baby grabbed at Emma’s glasses, yanking them across her nose. She pulled her half sister’s hand away, trying to decide how to delicately report what had been stolen.
Mr. Ross didn’t wait on her. “There was a theft at my ranch last night. One of those thefts.”
The sheriff politely kept his gaze on the rancher, but Emma was aware that the lawman’s attention sharpened. “Same piece as what was taken a week or so ago?”
“Yes.”
Heat flushed Emma’s cheeks and she held Molly tighter to her breasts, feeling practically naked.
Behind her, the door flew open and a feminine voice exclaimed, “Davis Lee, there’s been another one! Oh.”
A broad grin spread across the sheriff’s face. “Hello, wife.”
Emma looked over her shoulder to see a petite brunette move into the room beaming at Sheriff Holt. She tore her gaze from him to look at Mr. Ross. “Hello, Jake.”
“Miz Josie.”
Her warm green gaze lit on Emma and she stuck out a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Josie Holt.”
“Emma York.” She shook hands, thinking she would probably like the sheriff’s wife if given a chance to know her.
“Oh, I should’ve been quicker with an introduction,” Mr. Ross apologized.
“It’s all right.” The other woman smiled then looked at her husband. “I’m sorry. I can see I’ve interrupted.”
He nodded, an indulgent and amused look on his handsome features. As his wife reached out to touch Molly’s blond hair, a look of painful longing flitted across her pretty features. “What a darling baby. This is the little girl someone left at your house, Jake?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said stiffly.
It didn’t escape Emma’s notice that his voice had changed the instant the baby was mentioned. Nor did she miss the fleeting glances that both the sheriff and his wife gave the man, looks that appeared to be compassion. Emma turned her head to prevent the baby from grabbing her spectacles. If anyone should get their compassion, it should be Molly, especially if the man who’d taken her in didn’t want her.
“Hi there, little one.” Josie Holt bent, looking into the baby’s eyes as she stroked her cheek. “Would you let me hold you?”
Emma didn’t think her half sister would go, but, when the sheriff’s wife opened her arms, Molly studied her soberly then went. Without her sibling’s tiny body covering her chest, Emma felt it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a corset. She drew the light shawl tighter around herself and made herself very still, the way she did when her stepfather went into one of his tempers.
“Aren’t you a beauty?” Josie murmured, fingering Molly’s fine blond curls. Her voice cracked. “Isn’t she pretty, Davis Lee?”
“Yes.” His gaze touched briefly on the child, then riveted on his wife, and the tender look on his face had Emma’s heart clenching.
Molly grasped a button on Mrs. Holt’s blue gingham bodice and the woman touched the baby’s nose. “You did just fine by finding yourself at Jake’s, little one.”
Emma wondered if the woman would still think so if she knew how quickly the rancher had removed himself from the baby yesterday morning. The sheriff’s wife brushed a light kiss against Molly’s temple before returning her to Emma. From the corner of her eye, Emma could tell that Jake Ross was looking away.
Josie walked over to her husband and said in a low voice, “When you’re finished, would you come to the shop? There’s been another one.”
Beside Emma, her employer snapped to attention. “Beggin’your pardon, Miz Josie, but do you mean another theft? Of…you know?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Emma caught the look Mr. Ross shared with Sheriff Holt, who reached out and took his wife’s hand. “I’ll come as soon as I’ve finished talking to Miz York.”
It was a bit of a relief to know that Mrs. Holt had also been a victim of the embarrassing theft. And, if Josie Holt stayed, maybe Emma wouldn’t have to say much.
“You may as well stay, Mrs. Holt,” she offered tentatively. “That’s why I’m here, too.”
“No!” Josie’s gaze shot to Emma and she whispered, “A…corset?”
The sheriff chuckled. “Honey, we can hear you.”
Smiling, she swatted at him, looking to Emma for an answer.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Last night?”
Emma nodded, adjusting her spectacles.
“Oh, my stars.” Josie clutched at her husband’s hand. “Davis Lee, you’ve got to do something. This can’t go on.”
“I’m doing the best