The Trouble with Patience

by Maggie Brendan

  Emily leaned over to give Judith a loving hug. “Have your tea, and then we’ll take you upstairs where you’ll be comfortable.”

  “Comfortable . . . but alone . . . ,” Judith choked out and buried her face in her hands.

  Patience sat down beside her and held out a cup of hot tea. “No, not alone. You have your friends, but more importantly, you have God who cares for you more than anyone.” She put her arm around Judith’s shoulder and looked into the face of her friend, so recently the beaming, joyful, and very poised mistress of a large ranch. In an instant she’d become a hurt, stricken woman with pain too enormous for her slender shoulders.

  It was all too sad, and Patience prayed silently that someone soon would be brought to justice—one small step toward peace and comfort for her friend Judith.

  The day had stretched to what seemed interminably long by the time Patience was finally able to slip on her nightgown and crawl into bed. She lay there wide awake, the numbing fact swirling through her mind that someone she’d seen just the day before was in fact now dead. It’s unfathomable . . . but that’s exactly how it was with Russell. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting again to be reminded of that awful day. It had been all she could do to maintain her composure in front of Judith as she had helped the grieving woman get ready for bed.

  Judith looked so pitiful, about ready to drop when Patience had assisted her up the stairs. Emily had already placed Judith’s carpetbag next to the bed. Patience helped her with the buttons down the back of her bodice and skirt and slid a fine linen nightgown over her head. No words were spoken between them until she had Judith in the bed and tucked the blanket around her.

  Patience had given her what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this, Judith,” she’d told her. “I feel sure Jedediah and his men will find the man or men who did this to John. We must believe and trust that God knows the pain in your heart and will carry you through, no matter what.”

  Judith said in a feeble voice, “In case I forgot to say thank you—bless you for caring for me in my sorrow. It means so much. I’m so tired, but I fear that sleep will escape me tonight.”

  “I understand. If you should need anything at all, I showed you where my room is right across the hall.” Patience smoothed back strands of hair from Judith’s forehead. “I will pray for God to give you strength,” Patience said, giving her hand a squeeze. She hoped Judith would find some comfort in her care while she was here.

  Emily slid into bed next to Patience. “I hope this arrangement won’t make you too uncomfortable for a day or two, but I was sure Judith needed some time alone.”

  “I’ve had worse arrangements,” Patience said with a soft chuckle. “You did the right thing, and we’ll make do until Jedediah thinks it’s safe for her to return to the Cross Bar. I’m afraid it’ll be hard for any of us to sleep tonight.” As Patience finished the words, she could hear Emily’s steady, even breathing. She’d left Emily to do everything this afternoon for their residents, including supper, so Emily was no doubt very tired also. At least she doesn’t snore! Patience thought with a little smile.

  Jedediah and his posse rode back into town more than twenty-four hours after leaving the Cross Bar, hauling one rugged-looking man, gagged and bound, on horseback. The town was busy as usual at the supper hour as wagons and people choked the main thoroughfare. Some pedestrians stopped to stare as the group rode past. News traveled fast in the small town, and most had already heard of John’s unfortunate demise and were guessing at who the prisoner was.

  Jedediah sure hoped he had the right man. It was James who’d tracked the man down and fired off a shot into the air, signaling to the rest of the posse he’d caught someone. After a few questions from Jedediah and a threat if he didn’t cooperate, the man admitted to cattle rustling and begged them not to hang him. But that was not Jedediah’s plan. He wanted the man to have a fair trial. He currently had no proof that the man had killed John Hargrove, but the confessed thief needed an attorney to represent him in any case.

  So much for the blue neckerchief connecting Cody to the crimes. Had it simply been a ploy? So many unanswered questions. He shook his head, the memory of a man strung up for this kind of crime pressing again into his thoughts. But now Jedediah was trying hard to make the law fair and effective. He wiped his face with his hand as he wearily dismounted in front of the jailhouse, the others following suit.

  Monty furiously yanked the man off his horse, then half dragged him up the steps and inside, where Jedediah promptly shoved him into a cell and locked it. The prisoner sat down on the cot with his head between his hands.

  “Brady,” he said to one of the posse, “can you rustle up some vittles from the café for our prisoner?” At the man’s nod, Jed added, “Get yourself something to eat, too.”

  “Sure thing, Jed.” He hurried out while James, Kit, and Monty stood about looking exhausted.

  “The rest of you—go on home. Get some rest. I’m mighty proud of you all for keeping your word to bring the prisoner in alive.” All Jedediah wanted now was a hot bath and sleep. “Kit, see that our horses get a rubdown and oats over at the livery.”

  Kit nodded, and James muttered good night and stalked down the steps to his horse.

  Monty hung back. “You know he doesn’t deserve living, not after what he’s done.” Monty leveled a dark look at Jedediah.

  “Now hold on, Monty. He didn’t admit to the ambush. He admitted only to the cattle stealing. We’ll have to find more evidence—”

  “If he said he was innocent, would you believe him?” Monty nearly shouted. “You know he couldn’t’ve pulled this off singlehanded. No way.”

  “I’m not sure, but I am sure this is what I was hired for—to give the man a fair hearing,” Jedediah responded. He didn’t need any more trouble than he already had, but he could tell Monty wasn’t satisfied with his summation of the situation.

  Monty’s hands went to his hips. “You losing your nerve, Jed? I can’t believe you!”

  “Monty,” he reasoned, “let the matter be. You need to let me handle this.”

  Monty turned on his boot heel. “We’ll see ’bout that.” He strode out, slamming the door.

  Jedediah sighed heavily. He hoped some sense would sink into Monty’s rather thick skull. If the man decided to get the town all riled up . . .

  Jedediah decided to have a bath before grabbing a bite to eat. He took a clean shirt and pants from upstairs, and as he headed out the back toward the washhouse, he spied something on his desk—a white linen cloth over what appeared to be a plate. He lifted the napkin to find a complete dinner still warm underneath it. A note attached written in pretty handwriting read,

  I pray you return without injury and with a criminal or two to pay for this heinous crime against Judith and John. I thought you might be hungry if you did return tonight. I know this is not our usual “arrangement,” but I made an exception tonight.

  Patience

  Her note made him smile and warmth flooded his chest. Well, how do you like that? She’s thinking about me. He decided he would go ahead and eat now, but outside on the porch. Brady would return shortly with food for the prisoner. Not that the lowlife deserved any, but it was the law.

  22

  Strange as it seemed, Patience found herself somewhat reluctant for her mother to leave for her home. This last week they had seemed to find additional common ground. There was less sparring about how Patience should run the boardinghouse, although occasionally her mother would make a complaint—a “suggestion,” she called it—about Patience’s menu. There was either too much salt or not enough, chicken served too often, and couldn’t they have more beef? This was cattle country, wasn’t it? And on and on. There was no pleasing the woman completely, but for some reason she wasn’t taking it to heart like before. They had even laughed together on occasion.

  “I’m going to miss everyone here,” Charity told her daughter as they worked together on pack
ing. “I never knew that such busyness could be enjoyable. Living alone is very quiet, and even though I like that too, I sure am going to find it rather lonely.”

  Patience didn’t feel like the statement was an accusation. She paused as she folded another shirtwaist. “You can come back and visit as often as you like. You may have to room with me, though, if there are no vacancies.” She looked at her mother fondly.

  Charity folded her nightgown and robe, placing it in her case, and smiled. “I just might take you up on that. Maybe for the holidays?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Or perhaps a wedding?” A brow shot upward and her mother smiled knowingly. “I was wrong about Cody, Patty. It’s apparent to me that Jedediah is more suited to your liking.”

  “I do care for him, but I’m not sure of his feelings for me.” Patience hoped to change the subject. She lifted the two remaining dresses and began folding one, when something fell to the floor at her feet. She saw her mother’s diamond brooch lying on the bedside rag rug. “Mother! Your brooch!” she called out as she bent to retrieve it.

  Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my!” she said, accepting it from Patience’s hand. “I don’t remember putting this in my pocket. I thought we all had looked everywhere. Now I feel truly awful that I accused Emily of taking the brooch.” She sighed heavily.

  Patience laid a hand on her mother’s. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Emily ever knew you had done so.”

  “You have a very nice partner here. The two of you work so well together. I’ve been meaning to tell you that.”

  “Yes, I agree. Emily has a good head and an even better heart. That’s why I knew she would never take your cameo. No harm has been done, and you now have your brooch back.”

  Charity beamed. “I’m so happy that you found it, and from now on I’ll be more careful with my valuables. Will you let Jedediah and the residents know that we found it?”

  Patience nodded. “Yes, of course. We must get finished or you’ll miss the stage.”

  Charity leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m very proud of you. I realize you had heavy responsibilities taking care of me after your father died. I don’t think I ever showed my appreciation, but I want you to know I’m very thankful. I wish you great success.”

  Patience had a lump in her throat. She could never remember a time at home when her mother had talked to her this way. Maybe advancing age was softening her outlook. “Thank you” was all she managed to choke out as she put her arms around her mother’s shoulders and felt the return hug. It was a new beginning.

  After they had said their goodbyes at the depot and her mother boarded the Wells Fargo stagecoach, Patience stood and watched the mailbag being stowed on the top. She finally was mailing her compiled devotionals to Emily’s uncle, and the package was going on the same stage as her mother. Emily had happily tucked in a note of introduction. A tiny spark bubbled in her heart with hope the editor might actually like it. She had dedicated it to her mother. She wondered what her mother would think if she knew. She smiled to herself as she waved the coach around the bend and out of sight.

  Jedediah had the impression the townsfolk were giving him the cold shoulder—as if he were protecting the man guilty of John’s death. John Hargrove had been admired and respected around the whole area, so it was no surprise that they wanted someone to pay. Jedediah decided the porch with his afternoon cup of coffee wasn’t the place to be with folks casting hard stares his direction, so he went back inside.

  He’d stopped by to pay Patience for the lunches, but Emily told him she was at the stage depot with her mother. Tomorrow he’d be transporting the prisoner to Helena to see that justice was done, so he probably wouldn’t see her for a few days.

  He checked on the man—Nathan Watkins was his name—to be sure he was still in the cell, although there was no way he could’ve escaped.

  “How long you plan on keepin’ me locked up?” The prisoner glared up at him from the cot.

  “I’m hauling you over to the judge in Helena for a hearing. Then you’re his problem, and I say good riddance!” Jedediah growled back.

  “So why didn’t you just hang me like you did Russell Watkins?”

  Jedediah froze. How does he know about Russell? He said “Russell Watkins.” Is he . . . ?

  “Why? He a friend of yours?” Jedediah tried to keep his tone nonchalant.

  “More than a friend—he was my older brother, but you hanged him.” The man dropped his face into his hands. “It should’ve been me,” he said, his voice so low Jedediah could barely hear the words.

  Jed grunted. Nathan was a decent-looking fellow. Should’ve been married with two kids bouncing on his knee by now, but instead he’d turned to stealing. Jed stared through the bars at the man.

  Nathan continued to hang his head for a moment. When he finally lifted it, his eyes appeared vacant. “And now it’ll be me,” he said under his breath.

  Through gritted teeth Jedediah responded, “Then you’ll receive your just reward, if I have anything to do with it.”

  “I reckon, but I didn’t kill John Hargrove,” Nathan declared once more.

  “Then who did?” Jed banged his hand against the cell bar and it rattled ominously.

  “I don’t know.”

  Jedediah tried to stare him down. “Know, but won’t tell?”

  “I may be a rustler, but I ain’t no murderer!”

  Jedediah stalked back to his desk, but he couldn’t concentrate. With the grim looks he was getting from the townsfolk, he wasn’t sure he should venture out to get their suppers. Maybe Joe would drop in. Besides, now his appetite had all but disappeared.

  Jedediah awoke to Patience standing over him. He jerked upright and blinked at her. “I must have fallen asleep,” he told her, “but what a nice way to wake up—your beautiful face right above me.” She gave him a coy smile, then straightened, but he took her hand. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted, and saw her sweet smile of surprise.

  She whispered with a soft tone, “I missed you too.” She looked down at his hand holding hers, and he chuckled at her discomfort over his compliment.

  “I’ve never—well, no one’s ever called me ‘beautiful’ before, Jed,” she said, pressing her free hand against her face. “Do you really think that’s so?” she whispered after a glance over her shoulder at Nathan in his cell.

  Jed slowly stood and pulled her by the hand over to the corner, out of sight of his prisoner. “You sure are, Patience,” he said, still holding her hand and staring into those green eyes. “You’re beautiful in a lot of ways, not only in the way you look. I noticed it when you were taking care of Judith Hargrove, how gentle and caring you were.” He put his arms around her, and he could feel her hug him back.

  “Someone could come in any time, Jed,” she finally whispered as she pulled away, and reluctantly he let her go.

  “Is that food I smell?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Is that all you can think about?” She led him over to the basket she’d placed on his desk.

  He chuckled. But then he said, lowering his voice, “Hardly—lately all I can think about is you.”

  “I like to hear that, Jed. Thank you. Now, this is your plate, and I made one up for the prisoner.”

  “Sounds like a fair deal to me,” he quipped. “Hope mine is bigger and better.”

  They stood in front of the cell door with the plate of food, and Jedediah unlocked it.

  Nathan jumped up off the cot and stared through the bars, his jaw hanging open. “What the devil are you doing here, Patience?”

  23

  Patience reached out to one of the cell’s bars to steady herself while Jedediah took the plate from her shaking hand. “What on earth are you doing here, Nathan?” she finally managed to ask.

  Jedediah shot a look from Patience to Nathan and back again. “You know him?”

  “Yes, I do,” she croaked out. “Jedediah, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?”

&n
bsp; “I don’t know if that’s a good—”

  “Please, Jed,” she said.

  Reluctantly he agreed. “Five minutes, no more.” She took the plate back from Jedediah and went inside the cell. Jedediah shut the door and walked back to his desk.

  She’d have to try and explain it all to Jed later, but for now she handed the plate to the prisoner. He went to the cot and sat down, the dinner balanced on his knees. She took a seat on the other cot facing him.

  Patience wasted no time. “Why didn’t I ever hear from you after Russell died, Nathan?”

  “I was hiding out and couldn’t take the chance of being caught.” Nathan ran his hand through his hair in extreme agitation. He placed the plate of food on the cot and jumped to his feet, pacing the distance between them.

  “Why? Were you in trouble?”

  The man stopped his pacing to stare at her. “Don’t you know? Russell was hanged by Jedediah Jones, your own town marshal.”

  Patience felt her heart turn to lead. She could hardly take a breath. “How—why do you say that? How do you know Jedediah did it?” she stammered out, her mind swirling with far more questions than she could express.

  “I just watched him sign my arrest papers,” he spit out, “charging me with rustling and the murder of John Hargrove. He signed them with his flamboyant ‘X,’ the signature he’s been known for. ‘Vigilante X.’ It’s not that he can’t read . . . more like a badge of arrogance and power when he was one of the Montana Vigilantes. They were responsible for stringing up road agents whenever they thought it was necessary. All lawful, I might add,” he finished, bitterness filling his voice.

  Patience sat stunned with this new information about Jedediah. How she wished he’d told her all this himself. “But why did they hang Russell? Was he guilty? Or—were you the thief?”

  Nathan gave a quick nod and finally sat back down on the cot. “Me and Russell stole to add to our small herd so we could make money quick. I thought we’d never be caught. Russell paid for it with his life, but it should’ve been me. There was another man, Cody. I can’t forgive myself, and I doubt God will.” Nathan’s head was once more in his hands, and he groaned pitifully.