The Trouble with Patience

by Maggie Brendan

  Patience took a deep breath and put her cup down. “I—I’ll think about that, Jed, and I will pray about it to. I suggest you do that also.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Fair enough. So tell me something about you that I don’t know.”

  “I’m sure you have guessed by now that my mother and I aren’t close, never have been. However, when she came here to visit, we were able to close that gap somewhat. I adored my father, but he passed away. I eventually left home because I didn’t want my mother to control my adult life as she did my growing-up years. She made it clear to me early on that I was ‘Plain Jane.’ I’ve always worried about how I look to others. I’d like to be as pretty and slender as Emily.” She tried to chuckle, but it really didn’t work.

  “I’d say you’re awfully brave to start out on your own, restoring and running a boardinghouse. That takes a lot of gumption, like my grandma used to say. You’re mighty pretty to me, inside and out. I like your cheerfulness and spunk. You make things—well, interesting—and life has gotten a lot more appealing for me with you around.” His eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled at her. “You don’t need to look like or be like anyone else but yourself,” he added.

  “Well, the boardinghouse was a gift from my grandmother after she passed. That was another thing my mother didn’t like. Actually, I think she didn’t like that my grandmother and I were close . . . maybe she felt hurt.” Patience looked away, thinking about that possibility.

  “Seems like your mother was pretty hard on you,” Jedediah said after finishing his coffee.

  Patience sighed. “It was just her way, once she began having heart problems, and after Russell was . . . was gone.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I couldn’t bear the ‘I told you so’ look in her eyes, nor my friends’ pitying glances.” She looked over at him with a rueful expression. “Maybe you were right when you told me I have no humility.”

  “I really didn’t mean that,” he said quietly. “Well . . . maybe just a little.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, and they both smiled.

  She turned serious again. “I think you might be right. I’ve always expected everyone to live up to my standards and think the way I do, and that’s not fair. Actually, come to think of it, that’s what I accuse my mother of doing. Maybe we’re alike.” Patience was lost in thought for a while. “The last couple of months, while writing in my devotional journal, I believe God has been revealing my own inadequacies. Just like He’s done now. I need to learn to be more accepting of others, not rushing to judgment—like I’ve done with my mother, with Russell, and with you, too, Jed.”

  “I’m grateful, Patience.” He reached out and took her hand. “Am I forgiven then?” he asked.

  Patience looked over at him with a brief smile. “Forgiven. Can you forgive me for acting so high and mighty?”

  Jedediah squeezed both her hands, and leaned over to give her a hug.

  A sudden flash of bright light through the window brought them both to their feet, and Patience could see men waving torches high, joining others who had been milling about while she and Jedediah were talking.

  “Hey, Marshal! It’s time you hand him over,” came a shout that sounded like Monty.

  Patience stiffened and put a trembling hand on his arm. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not rightly sure,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I could let them have Nathan. It’s what he deserves for his thievery, but I don’t know if I can live with that. Also, I think he could provide information about what really happened with John’s murder, knows who might have been involved.” Jedediah drew her toward the dark corner, out of earshot of Nathan. “I’m going to see if I can talk some sense into their thick skulls. Stay here,” he said again with a quick hug.

  Patience’s heart pounded as she watched him open the door and heard the shouts suddenly louder through the opening. He quickly shut and locked the door behind him.

  She didn’t want Jedediah to be in harm’s way. Lord, please keep him safe, she prayed. She went back to her seat and prayed earnestly . . . for Jedediah—for Judith—for Nathan.

  ———

  Jedediah prayed he was doing the right thing. He stood at the top of the steps, carbine at his side, and waited for the crowd to settle down. He noticed several women standing among them. Monty was front and center.

  The torches illuminated the faces of the mob, their anger and determination clearly evident. He didn’t want to rile them any further than they already were.

  They had momentarily quieted when he came out of the marshal’s office, but now they all started talking at once. They wanted vengeance for John’s death—why was he so blind, so stubborn, protecting a killer? On and on it went until Jedediah fired off a bullet into the black sky.

  In the sudden silence, he said, “Listen here! I don’t appreciate threats, and in case you’ve forgotten, I am the legally appointed US Marshal and will arrest anyone who ventures near this door tonight. And a reminder—attacking a marshal is a federal offense.”

  Monty stepped out of the crowd. “Jedediah, my friend,” he began, obviously attempting to sound conciliatory, “how can you let that man sit there in your jailhouse after what he’s done? Just release him to us, why don’t you? We’ll take care of—”

  “Because it’s the law,” Jedediah said, cutting him off, “and we don’t have any proof he murdered anyone. He has a right to a trial.” The carbine was hanging down, but anyone could see he was keeping it in position to fire at a moment’s notice.

  “You’ve strung men up before,” someone from the back shouted, “and you never minded then. What’s got into you?”

  “That was a different time, different laws. Now the law is represented by this badge. And this means I will take him to the judge in Virginia City. Step back and stay back. It’s my solemn duty to protect the prisoner, and I intend to do it!” Jedediah looked out over the crowd and watched as they muttered among themselves. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Joe, Hannah, and Cody—of all people—coming near. What’s Cody doing here?

  “He’s nothing but a coward,” shouted Walt, a known troublemaker, above the other voices, “and he’s lost his guts to hang him, but we haven’t. Right, men?”

  “There’s only one of him and plenty of us,” another agreed.

  Jedediah raised his carbine. “Don’t any of you do anything you’ll be sorry for.”

  Joe came up the steps and stood beside Jedediah. “I’m with you, Jed! They’ll have to climb over me to get inside.”

  “Thanks, Joe.”

  Another shouted, “I say we get him now, and then we’ll all sleep better.”

  Cody sidled up to where Jedediah and Joe stood side by side, legs spread, ready to protect the prisoner. “Can I say something?”

  The crowd, probably as surprised as Jed, settled down again, and he nodded to Cody.

  “Folks, the marshal’s right. The man deserves a trial, nothing more but nothing less. Why don’t you go home and let Jedediah run him over to Virginia City so the judge can decide if he deserves a hearing.”

  “Why should you give a flying bat’s wings if he deserves anything more than a rope and a tall tree?” another onlooker asked.

  Cody glanced at Jedediah. “Because our laws say every man accused is given a trial, and that’s what Jedediah is aiming to do.”

  “How do you know?” Walt sneered. “And who the heck are you, anyway?”

  “Jedediah used to be a vigilante, but he is a peacemaker now.” Cody whipped the kerchief off his neck, exposing the deep scar on his throat. “This is what the Montana Vigilantes did to me, and I was innocent.” Cody paused, then added, “You see, when people take the law into their own hands, this is the kind of thing that can happen. The wrong man was punished, and that was me.”

  There was deep silence over the crowd. Jedediah glanced at the scar, then dropped his gaze, remorse washing over him. And the man was innocent whirled through his mind.

  Cody cont
inued, “Is that the kind of law you want in this town? Act first, ask questions later? I hope not. I was lucky when the rope didn’t snap my neck.”

  Murmurs and whispers were heard, and Jedediah leaned toward Cody. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  Cody responded, “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

  Patience had come out and joined them, slipping one arm through Jedediah’s and the other arm through Cody’s. Jedediah was honored and humbled. Why? he wondered. I don’t deserve this kind of support.

  Slowly the crowd, grumbling and complaining, dispersed to their homes, and Jedediah hoped it was for good. By morning he’d be long gone with the prisoner. Patience, Joe, Cody, and Hannah stepped inside his office, and Hannah hugged Patience while they talked in low voices. The men stayed by the door.

  “I want to thank you, Cody. I didn’t deserve your help tonight,” Jedediah commented. “I thought I had the right outlaw back then, but I sure was mistaken. It’s another proof that real laws work a lot better than a vigilante posse.”

  Cody shifted from one foot to the other. “I’ll just say every man deserves a second chance. You can thank Patience here for convincing me of that, or else I would’ve been in the crowd yelling for revenge too and hoping you’d get in the way of a stray bullet.”

  Jedediah nodded, not knowing what to say. He held out his hand, and Cody shook it, his face solemn.

  Joe said, “Get some shut-eye, Jed. Cody and I will take turns on watch just in case. You need your rest for tomorrow.”

  “Joe, why don’t you walk Patience and Hannah home first?” Cody asked.

  “Good idea. I’ll be back.” He crooked his elbows out and turned to the women. “Ladies . . . shall we?”

  They both smiled, said good night to Jedediah and Cody, then headed down the street—with Joe recounting with as much pride as if he’d done it himself how Jedediah stood up to the lynch mob.

  25

  At one end of Wallace Street, Jedediah left with his prisoner, and at the other end, Patience watched from her porch as the funeral procession for John Hargrove began to form. She’d been waiting for Judith to come downstairs, and Cody had offered to drive them to the cemetery overlooking a hill where the more “respectable” people were buried. She heard the door behind her open and Judith walked out dressed in full black mourning attire, including a black hat whose veil covered her still-swollen eyes.

  Cody stepped down to help the ladies into the carriage. After they were seated, he asked, “Anybody else from here going?”

  “No. Emily is going to have a light meal ready for anyone who would like to extend their condolences to Judith after the burial.”

  “That’s a nice thing to do,” he said with a nod as he climbed back up in his seat and picked up the reins.

  Judith dabbed her eyes underneath the veil. “You and Emily have been just like family to me, Patience. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

  Patience patted Judith’s arm. “You’d do the same for me, I’m sure.”

  Cody clicked at the horse and steered it in behind the hearse headed to the cemetery just down the dirt road a ways. Patience found herself hoping Jedediah would be back from his delivery of Nathan in time to have a bite to eat with everyone. She was proud of the way he’d responded last night, how he diffused a volatile situation. But she was even more impressed when Cody showed up. The man’s forgiveness of Jedediah surprised and delighted her at the same time. She could hardly wait to see Jedediah again, to talk with him about everything that had happened in such a short time.

  After they arrived at the cemetery, Monty slowly walked over to Patience, head down and twisting his hat in his hands. “Miz Patience,” he began, “I guess—well, I sure got caught up in the moment with the crowd last night. I was enraged about John’s death, ’long with everybody else. I reckon I was outta line. I sure hope Jedediah will understand and will—will still be speaking to me.” Monty had dark circles under his eyes. Probably hadn’t slept much.

  Patience wasn’t sure what to say, so she simply nodded.

  Reverend King from Virginia City had come to preside over the funeral, and the crowd of people who were there to honor John Hargrove watched silently as the casket was lowered into the ground.

  “Dust to dust . . .” And the all-too-familiar words hung over them while Judith sobbed quietly, Patience’s arm around her.

  Though Jedediah failed to get back in time for the luncheon, in Patience’s estimation the cemetery service and the meal at the boardinghouse had gone well. Judith held up as reasonably as could be expected.

  When the guests had departed, Judith told Patience that she’d decided she was ready to go home. “I think I want to be alone now. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done, both you and Emily.”

  Patience nodded and took the woman’s hand in both of hers. “I certainly understand.”

  Monty, still looking a bit sheepish, stepped forward from the hallway. “I’d be happy to bring you back, Miz Judith.” At her nod, he turned to Emily. “How ’bout you ride along with us, and I’ll bring you back. With everything going on lately, it’ll give us time to catch up. That okay with everybody?”

  “Perfectly fine, Monty,” Judith said.

  Emily glanced at Patience.

  “Certainly, she can go,” Patience agreed. “Almost everything has been picked up and washed and put away.” Patience patted Emily’s arm, and Emily shot her a bright smile, hurried to hang up her apron, and grabbed a light wrap.

  No sooner had Patience settled in the parlor, removed her shoes, and propped her feet on a footstool, than the doorbell rang. She was sure her guests were out or up in their rooms. In stocking feet she padded to the door and checked through glass panes. Jedediah stood there, a smile greeting her as soon as she opened the door. “Come in, Jed. I was hoping you’d make it back for the luncheon after John’s funeral, but everyone has left now. Maybe we can find something for you in the kitchen.”

  She didn’t say anything more when she saw Jedediah looking down at her feet, and she put one behind the other, trying to hide them. She didn’t have small feet, and it embarrassed her to have him notice them.

  He simply chuckled and held out his hand to her. “I see you’re getting comfortable. Shall I come back another time?”

  She felt her face warm, but she took his hand. “No, please stay. I left my shoes in the parlor. Follow me.”

  “Please don’t put them on for me. I’m sure you must be tired.”

  “No more tired than you no doubt are.” She noticed shadows under his eyes, and he hadn’t had a shave, but he was still handsome to her. “Did you turn Nathan over to the authorities? I hope you had no trouble with him. He does have a good side, believe it or not.”

  “Yes, he was placed in a cell until a hearing, and more than likely a trial. One for cattle rustling and one for murder.” Patience motioned toward the settee, and both took a seat on it. “I won’t stay long, Patience, because I’m tired. Where’s Judith?” He leaned back, his head resting against the wall, and closed his eyes.

  “Judith decided to go back to the ranch,” Patience told him. “I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get away from all the well-wishers and be alone right now.” Patience reached over to pat his arm, and he cocked an eye at her. “Yes, you are weary, I can see,” she told him.

  “But looking at you is probably just what I need,” he answered with a grin and covered her hand on his arm with his.

  “Monty asked Emily to ride along,” she explained as she straightened and pulled her hand back to her lap. “They’ll return soon, I imagine. Would you like me to get a plate of food for you?”

  “Nah,” he drawled. “I don’t need food as much as some time to look at you.”

  She laughed softly, her face coloring. “Looking at me isn’t going to—”

  But Jedediah had taken her hand back and was looking at the palm. “You have hardworking hands, Patience, but they are beautiful.” He pla
ced a kiss in the calloused palm and gently placed her hand back in her lap.

  Patience looked at this man who had at first seemed so rough and unpleasant, so utterly opposite the kind of man she’d thought she would find appealing, and she marveled at the change . . . in him, or in me? she wondered. She noticed his strong jaw, the care in his eyes—and maybe something more.

  He smiled at her, straightened, and said, “I’m going to go get some sleep, my dear. Looks like you’d appreciate some rest yourself.”

  She smiled in return. “To tell you the truth, I might enjoy a little nap before it’s time to fix supper.” She thought they both might like to stay right where they were, but she moved to stand.

  Jedediah was standing, and he reached to pull her up too. “All right, then. I hope I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She walked him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by. I was worried about you, alone with Nathan and all, and I’m proud of you for not releasing Nathan to the crowd.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Then I’m a lucky man.” He squeezed her hand and walked out to the steps, then turned to tip his hat with another smile. He strolled down the sidewalk, whistling.

  She leaned dreamily against the doorjamb and watched until he was lost in the crowd. He forgot to pay me for the boxed lunches! she thought with a little grin. He’ll have to come back tomorrow.

  It was proving to be a fine morning, and Patience was in great spirits as she walked up the street to The Star Bakery. She planned to fill her basket with Hannah’s baked goods for her boardinghouse guests.

  Creekside was doing wonderfully well, and she was proud of the changes she and Emily had been able to accomplish—without much cash, but with ingenuity and hard work. All of it no doubt was helping them keep the rooms full.

  Partnering with Emily had turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened, but from the looks of her friendship with Monty, the young woman wouldn’t be at the boardinghouse much longer. Of course, Patience was happy for Emily but wasn’t sure how she would manage without her.