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Patience

Page 16

by Lori Copeland


  “I can’t, Jay!”

  Jay swung around and the light pinpointed a small chamber opening. “Wilson?”

  Wilson’s voice came from inside the chamber. “Jay, why do you keep saying ‘Wilson’?”

  “Why don’t you stop asking questions and get out here?” He was losing patience with this kid.

  Dropping to his knees, Jay crawled through water to get to the chamber. He realized why he wasn’t overly fond of children lately. They were too much trouble. Women were interruptions, and children were too much trouble, and he had way too much of both in his life.

  “Wilson, how did you get in there?”

  “Crawled in. It was easy.”

  “Well, crawl out. That should be double easy.”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Come on, Wilson.” Poking his head through the chamber opening, Jay rammed his nose straight into something hairy.

  Warm and hairy.

  Springing backward, he swiped at his nose, jarred by the putrid smell.

  “Jay?” Wilson called.

  “Wilson, what do you have in there with you?”

  “A bear.”

  A bear! There was a bear in there! “Wilson, get out!”

  “I can’t; the bear’s sitting in front of the door.”

  Jay racked his brain. Wilson is trapped in a chamber with a bear. What kind of bear? Big? Small? Did it matter? It was a bear.

  A bear, a boy, a tight chamber.

  “Wilson, listen. Now, don’t panic.” He glanced around for something to distract the animal. How did a bear get in there? The opening was barely big enough for a child to squeeze through.

  The kid was trapped in there with a bear, and it was up to him to do something about it. For an instant he remembered Brice, his own son. Would he have hesitated if that had been Brice trapped by a bear? No, he would have taken this place apart rock by rock. He couldn’t do less for Wilson. He hadn’t wanted to let Wilson become important to him—or Patience either, for that matter—but it seemed like the heart had a way of ignoring what the mind knew was best. That thought scared him more than the bear.

  “Wilson?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah. ‘Don’t panic.’”

  “Stay calm.”

  “I have to go to the outhouse. I have to go bad, Jay.”

  “You’ll have to hold on—do you know anything about bears?”

  “No, sir. I come from England, and I don’t think they have bears over there. Leastways, none I’ve ever seen. But they might, ’cause I probably didn’t see much of England after I was born.”

  “What’s the bear look like?”

  “Like he’s real aggravated.”

  Black, cinnamon? Mama bear, cub? Jay knew his luck wouldn’t let it be a cub. “What color is he?”

  “Mmm, well, kind of black … no, maybe reddish brown … no, well … I don’t know. My glasses are fogged up.”

  “Hold on, Wilson. I’m going to have to find a way to get the bear out of there.”

  Wilson’s voice came back, urgent now. “You’d better hurry, Jay, ’cause I have to go to the bathroom real bad!”

  Jay ran out of the shaft, returning a few minutes later carrying a pickax. “Wilson?”

  “Are you hurrying?”

  “I’m hurrying. Now listen. Where’s the bear now?”

  “Same place. Sitting in front of the door.”

  “He’s just sitting there?”

  “Yeah. Staring at me.”

  Jay’s gaze skimmed the cramped area as he tried to think of a way to lure the bear out of the chamber. He needed bait. “Wilson?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going back to the dugout. Don’t move. I mean it—don’t move a muscle until I get back! Don’t do anything to antagonize the bear. Hear me?”

  “I have to go, Jay, real bad!”

  “I’ll be back in five minutes, Wilson. Five minutes.” Whirling, Jay sprang into action.

  Racing back through the shaft, he dashed to the dugout. Patience glanced up, smiling when he blasted through the door.

  “Hi. The turkey turned out beautifully—” She gasped as he jerked the bird off the platter and whirled and sprinted off with it.

  “No time to explain!” he shouted and disappeared out the door again.

  “Jay Longer! Have you lost your mind?” Stamping her foot, she marched to the door and slammed it behind him. “Beans for supper again!”

  Dashing back to the mine, Jay tore down the narrow passageway, juggling the hot turkey with both hands. “Wilson!”

  He could hear crying coming from the chamber now. “Wilson!” Jay shouted, panic-stricken. “What’s wrong?”

  The bear let out a death-defying roar that ricocheted off the walls.

  “Wilson!”

  “What?”

  “Are you hurt?”

  The sobbing increased, more intense now.

  “Are you hurt?” Had the bear attacked him? Sweat beaded Jay’s forehead and rolled down his face.

  Wilson mumbled something Jay couldn’t make out and cried harder.

  Jay glanced around helplessly. Ghosts, bossy women, and bawling kids. He couldn’t take much more.

  Desperate now, he tore into the meat, laying a trail of turkey away from the chamber. If the bear took the bait, the meat would lead it out of the mine.

  “Better spread it thick, buddy boy. That’s a big bear in there. Tee, hee, hee, hee.”

  Jay closed his eyes. Not again.

  Looking up, he saw Gamey sitting on an overhead ledge, swinging his stubby legs in a carefree manner. Lifting his hand, the old miner wiggled five fingers, waving at him.

  Ignoring the apparition, Jay tore off a drumstick and crawled through water to the chamber entrance.

  “Okay, Wilson, I’m back. Everything’s going to be all right. Where’s the bear now?”

  “Sittin’—” sniff, sniff—“in—” sniff—“front of the door.”

  “Okay. I’m going to try and lure him out.”

  “He won’t come out,” Gamey predicted in a whisper. “You’ll have to have a bigger turkey than that.”

  “He’ll come out.”

  “No, he won’t.”

  “Yes, he will.”

  “Who you talkin’ to, Jay?”

  “Bet ya he won’t.”

  “Just shut up! Okay?”

  “Okay,” Wilson called back, pained.

  “I’m … not talking to you, Wilson. I’m talking to … someone else.”

  Wilson couldn’t hear Gamey in the chamber. “I don’t hear anybody else. Are you okay, Jay?”

  Placing his index and middle finger in the center of his tongue, Jay whistled loudly and beat on the chamber, trying to get the bear’s attention.

  “Ain’t no use. I put him in there, and he ain’t comin’ out,” Gamey taunted. He got to his feet, dancing a lighthearted jig.

  Jay thought his exhibition disgusting. “You’d do that to a child? That’s pretty low, isn’t it?”

  “Shore! I’m bad!”

  Jay turned away. “You’re more than bad; you’re rotten to the core.”

  “I’m sorry, Jay!” Wilson sobbed harder. “I don’t know why you’re talking mean to me—”

  The ploy worked. Roaring, the bear dropped to all fours. Gamey jumped up and down, having a whale of a time at Jay’s expense.

  “Here you go, boy. Come and get it.” Jay fanned the tantalizing drumstick aroma into the chamber.

  Growling, the bear sniffed, slapping out with his paw.

  “Right here, boy.” Shoving the steaming meat into the hole, Jay fanned it around, scenting the air.

  “Right here, boy,” Gamey mimicked, clapping his hands with glee. “He’s gonna tear yore head off, buddy boy! Yore gonna be blowin’ yore nose out yore ear!”

  The bear slapped out again, catching the back of Jay’s hand with its claws. Blood spurted. Swiftly retracting the decoy, Jay held the mea
t on the ground within the bear’s reach.

  Roaring again, the bear sniffed around the chamber entrance to capture the scent.

  “That’s it, boy. Come and get it,” Jay coaxed.

  “That’s it, boy,” Gamey heckled. “Come and eat Jay up!”

  “Shut up!” Jay blazed, sick of Gamey’s interference.

  “I didn’t say anything, Jay, honest!” Wilson agonized from the chamber. “I’m being quiet as a church mouse except when you talk to me!”

  “See what you’re doing,” Jay snapped. “The kid thinks I’m talking to him!”

  “I don’t care.”

  Jay heard the bear suddenly drop on his belly, trying to tunnel his way to the smell.

  “He’s coming out, Jay!”

  “Better run, buddy boy. The bear’s comin’ after ya! Heh, heh, heh.”

  Jay continued to wave the drumstick, keeping it within easy smelling distance.

  The bear squirmed, maneuvering his thick body through the tight opening. Gradually a head emerged, then hairy shoulders. The animal’s back legs slid free. Jay tossed the drumstick into the passageway and jumped into a crevice, nearly tripping over the old miner.

  Gamey bristled. “Hey! Watch it thar, buddy boy! You caught my bunion!”

  The bear quickly located the meat and devoured it. Lifting his head, he roared, his nose sniffing the air. Loping forward, he found another chunk of meat, gobbled it down, and loped on.

  Jay watched, hoping the animal’s appetite held.

  The animal’s fleshy backside waddled down the tunnel, and Jay quickly dropped to his knees and crawled into the small cavern.

  Wilson was huddled in a far corner, crying.

  “It’s okay, Wilson. He’s gone.”

  Lunging into Jay’s arms, Wilson clung to his neck. His frail body trembled. Jay held him tightly. “It’s all right, son. You’re safe now.” He was getting a soft spot for this kid—and he knew it.

  When the boy’s terror subsided, Jay removed Wilson’s glasses and wiped the dirt off them. Hooking the wire earpieces around the child’s ears, he positioned the glasses back on his nose. His heart wrenched at the boy’s tearstained face. “It’s all right. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

  Wilson swiped his sleeve across his nose and sniffled again. “Jay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “P’s going to be real mad at me.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll explain it to her, and she’ll be so glad to see you’re safe that she won’t say a word.”

  Wilson looked glum. “Yes, she will. P knows lots of words, and seems like I must have heard most of them.”

  Jay grinned. “I’ve heard a few of them myself.”

  Wilson sniffed the air. “What did you feed that bear?”

  “P’s turkey.”

  Wilson stared at him, wide-eyed. “You did?”

  “Yeah. She’s probably going to have something to say to both of us.”

  Wilson frowned. “You scared?”

  “Sure. She’s hard to handle when she really gets going.”

  Wilson bit his lip. “I’ll tell her you saved my life. That might help.”

  Jay smoothed Wilson’s hair back off his face. “Why did you crawl in here? I’ve told you repeatedly to stay out of the mine.”

  “I was looking for gold for P. Guess that was kinda stupid, huh?”

  “No one made you come in here? No one put the bear in here with you?”

  Wilson shook his head. “He was already in here when I crawled through the hole. Pretty stupid, huh, Jay?”

  “Not stupid, but what you did was dangerous. I don’t want you in here alone.”

  “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.” Wilson blinked back tears. “Hey, look. Your hand’s bleeding!”

  “It’s okay. The bear just grazed me a little.”

  Wilson gazed up at him imploringly. “P needs the gold real bad. That’s the only reason I was looking,” he explained.

  “Next time you want to look for gold, you come and get me and we’ll look together.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s dangerous in here. You could get hurt.”

  “Okay. I’ll come and get you.”

  “It’s for your own good, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll come and get you next time. I don’t mind.” Wilson’s teeth chattered, and Jay took off his coat and wrapped it around the boy. “I wish P didn’t have to know.”

  “Well, I grabbed that hot turkey off the table and ran out with it. How do you expect me to explain that if I don’t tell the truth?”

  Wilson giggled. “I’ll bet she was surprised.”

  Jay grinned. “I think you could say that.” He ruffled Wilson’s hair. “If you’re ready, I guess we’d better go face the music.”

  Wilson emerged from the chamber and paused to wait for Jay.

  The sheriff crawled out behind him, keeping a close eye out for the bear. He got to his feet and winked at the boy. “Can you imagine what would have happened if one of the women had run into that bear?”

  Wilson laughed. “They’d be upset, all right. Screaming and carrying on!”

  “Well, everyone but Moses. If she’d run into that bear, we’d probably be having bear stew. That’s one tough lady.”

  “I like her,” Wilson said. “She talks to me.”

  “She does grow on you,” Jay said. He knocked mud off his knees. “I’m hungry. How about you?”

  “Yeah, starving!”

  “Let’s see if we can sweet-talk that pretty P out of some dumplings.”

  “Yeah, and turkey!”

  Jay patted his head. “No, just dumplings.”

  Wilson grinned. “Oh yeah … I remember.”

  They walked in silence for a minute, and then Wilson said, “Jay?”

  “Yes?”

  “I know what I want to be when I grow up.”

  “What’s that, Wilson?”

  “I want to be a lawman, just like you.”

  Jay stopped in his tracks, staring down at the boy. “What did you say?”

  “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

  Jay swallowed. He wasn’t any role model for a kid. “Wilson, I’m not all that good. You can do better than me.”

  Wilson’s face turned solemn. “You are too good. And you’re nice. Is it hard being a lawman?”

  “It can be.” He was at a loss to know what to say.

  “You have to be brave?”

  “The good ones are, but look at me. I’m scared of Patience.”

  Wilson squinted his eyes in thought, “Well, that’s different. P can be very strong-willed.”

  Jay laughed. “I believe that’s called stubborn.”

  Wilson slipped his hand into Jay’s, and the two walked hand in hand away from the mine. “Say, Jay, I about forgot.”

  “What’s that, Wilson?”

  “P wants me to ask you something.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “She wants to know if you’ll marry her.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Marry me?” Patience flushed a deep scarlet. “Did he say that?”

  Jay casually ladled beans into individual tin bowls. “I just wondered if you had a specific date in mind.”

  Patience might have been mortified at Wilson’s audacity if she hadn’t recognized the teasing note in the sheriff’s voice. “I don’t know what’s gotten into that child!”

  Carrying the bowls to the table, Jay smiled. “Naturally, I warned him I wasn’t interested in matrimony.” He looked up, his smile bordering on deviousness now. “Not until more gold was coming out of the mine.”

  Blushing to her roots now, Patience poured coffee, longing for a deep hole to crawl into. She couldn’t believe Wilson had repeated their conversation when she had specifically warned him not to!

  Taking their seats at the table, they bowed their heads, and Patience asked the blessing. “Dear Lord, thank you for this food, and especia
lly for Jay’s and Wilson’s safety. Amen.”

  Reaching for the bowl of dumplings, Jay spooned a helping onto his plate. “Where was Wilson going in such a hurry?”

  “When there wasn’t any turkey, he ate three biscuits, gulped down a glass of milk, and ran out to assure Selmore his kinfolk did not die in vain. In fact, he told me he was going to tell Selmore that his kin was a hero.”

  Jay chuckled. “The boy earned my respect today. Most kids faced with that situation would have panicked.”

  Patience smiled. “He’s a strong little boy. Look at all he’s been through, losing his parents, losing the old prospector who befriended him. He was sick when I found him. After he recovered, he admitted he didn’t know what would happen to him after the prospector died, but then I came along.”

  “I guess that was the best thing that could have happened to him.”

  She flushed with pleasure. “Oh, I expect someone in Fiddle Creek would have taken him in.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it. Folks out here are doing well to take care of their own without taking in every motherless child that comes along. I’m not saying someone wouldn’t have fed him and given him a place to sleep, but he wouldn’t have the love he has here.”

  She looked at him in surprise. Who would have thought he’d understand? “I do love him. He’s rather special.”

  “He is that.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Jay watched Patience work. He had said she was the best thing to happen to Wilson. What he had no intention of saying was that she was the best thing to happen to him too. He’d miss her when he moved on. But he wasn’t the man for a decent, God-fearing woman like Patience Smith.

  He thought of what Wilson had said, about wanting to grow up to be just like him. Remembered the hero worship shining in his eyes. Sure, he had just saved the kid from a bear, but that didn’t account for all of the boy’s reaction. Jay knew love when he saw it. The kid loved him, a worn-out lawman with no dreams, no future, and a gambling debt hanging over his head. He needed to think about moving on. The thought depressed him.

  He considered whether to tell Patience about the ghost—if there really was a ghost, which he didn’t believe by a long shot. There was too much of the flesh and blood about this Gamey O’Keefe. He never got close enough to find out for sure, but for Jay’s money, the man looked too sturdy to be a spirit. From all he’d heard, ghosts were supposed to be a mite frail, just a “ghost of themselves,” so to speak.

 

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