The Trouble with Patience (17 page)

A pall of uneasiness seemed to be hanging over the Creekside Inn ever since Charity had reported her diamond cameo missing—and no doubt word had gotten out that the woman was casting aspersions on the residents themselves. Patience was fully aware of more than a few cool stares among the boarders cast toward her and her mother. But no one spoke about the brooch, and neither had it been found. She couldn't bear to think that someone would have taken it. But she couldn't help but worry that the boardinghouse's reputation would suffer, regardless of who was the culprit. The thought concerned her—especially now that Creekside was doing well.

“You must be deep in thought,” Emily said, dropping down in the chair next to her on the porch.

“Why do you say that?” Patience turned to face her friend.

Emily giggled, and her dimple deepened. “Because I was just talking to you.”

“I'm so sorry. Did you need something?”

“Not really. I thought I'd take a break from housekeeping and have a cup of tea. Would you care to join me?”

“I would indeed.” Patience sighed. “I was thinking about Mother's missing brooch.” She sighed again. “I'm sure the whole thing will not be good for our establishment.”

Emily gave her a caring gaze. “Oh, fiddledeedee,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Don't worry about that. I don't think anyone will give it a thought . . . only the residents. Please stop worrying, Patience. I have confidence it will turn up.”

“You do?”

“It has to. Try not to dwell on what you can't change. Whatever happens, we'll figure out how to manage,” Emily said as she rose. “I'll put the teakettle on.”

“I'll meet you in the kitchen—no need to carry it out here. It'll only get dusty from the street today with all the wagons passing to and fro.”

Patience rose, noticing she still felt stiffness in her side though her accident had been several weeks ago. Was that Cody just down the block? She paused, hand on the doorknob. He waved and turned his horse toward her. What had brought him into town?

“Howdy, Patience,” Cody said with a tip of his hat as he approached the porch.

“Hello, Cody. I wouldn't expect to see you here in the middle of the afternoon,” she answered, her hand up to shield the sun's glare.

“Me neither, but the boss sent me to order a few things to improve the fencing. He wants to make sure the herd doesn't stray, I reckon, after what happened.”

“Won't you come in out of the heat?”

“I expect I can visit a few minutes.” He tied his horse to the post, and Patience returned to her rocker and gestured
toward a chair next to hers. “How've you been?” he asked. “I should've taken you home from the dance instead of . . . well, instead of staying on. Forgive me.” His voice sounded its usual raspy tone, but nonetheless sincere.

“There's nothing to forgive. I think we understand one another . . . Millie seems to have caught your eye.” The last comment slipped out before Patience thought about it.

Cody laughed. “Aww, that didn't mean anything. Just having a good time dancing with her.”

“It's really none of my concern,” Patience said quietly.

“Are we still friends then?” He smiled broadly and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Certainly.” The last thing Patience wanted was for him to think she was pining over him. However, she did enjoy his company and lively conversation. But was Cody merely a diversion? Had she already lost her heart to another?

Cody smiled again. “I'm glad. When I leave here, I'd like to think I made a few friends.”

“You are leaving?”

“I told you that my intention wasn't to put down roots here—once I find the man I'm looking for.”

“Oh, yes. You did say that someone had wronged you.” Patience turned to look directly at him. “Have you thought about letting the Lord be the man's judge instead of trying to get even?”

He jerked his head sideways and stared at her. “That's letting someone get away with a crime.”

She gave him a level look. “You never said a crime was involved.” An odd feeling about Cody came over her. “Have you committed some crime?”

“Heavens, no! But someone needs to pay for the crime he
did to me!” His eyes snapped with anger. “One man gave the order.”

“And what was that, Cody?” His friendly afternoon greeting had changed from a tone of cheer to quick anger, and Patience didn't like this side of him.

“I was
hanged
! That's what!” Cody yanked off the blue kerchief at his throat, exposing a large, deep scar running from one side of his neck to the other. “
That's
what they did to me, and I won't let it rest till somebody pays.”

Patience drew her breath in sharply.
Not again
! Am I destined to run into hangings wherever I turn
?
“Cody.” Patience laid a hand on his arm. “I'm very sorry for whatever happened to you. But even I know a person can't be hanged and survive.”

“Well, the truth is my neck didn't snap, but I'd passed out so they thought I was dead. They cut me down, and one of the vigilantes hauled me to the local medical school so my body could be used for scientific study. That's when a student discovered I was alive.” Patience stared at him, her eyes wide with shock.

Cody continued his sorry saga. “The vigilantes had gone after some road agents, and they thought I was one of them. There was one man that gave the hanging order, but I had a hood over my head so I've got little to go on.” Cody's eyes narrowed, and his face hardened. “I never committed any crime.”

“So that's why you have a raspy voice.” She felt very sorry for him as she tried to imagine actually living through a hanging.

“Yes, it is, and it took a long time before I could speak at all. I thought my voice was lost forever.”

“How do you intend to find that man?” Patience was more than a little interested after hearing Cody's dreadful story.

“I've tried several ways, but I won't give up—you can be sure of that.”

“‘Vengeance is mine, says the Lord,'” she reminded him. “You are very fortunate to be alive after all that.” She paused a moment, then said quietly, “Spending all your time trying to get even is going to be awfully unsatisfying, even if you find the man and somehow punish him.” She guessed from the look he gave her that he didn't agree. “And whatever you do to him is likely going to land you in prison . . . or worse.” She wanted to say,
Or hanging from the end of a rope once more
, but she didn't dare.

“It may be in the Good Book,” he spit out, “but I'm not so sure that it matters to me anymore. Besides, didn't you tell me the man that had courted you was hanged? How do you know it wasn't the same vigilante? Could
you
forgive
him
?” Cody suddenly stood. “Look, I need to be going. Sorry I went on about this. Forget I even spoke about it, okay?” He tied the kerchief back in place over the scar.

“Well, it may not matter to you, but you matter to the Lord, I assure you. Why not put all this anger aside and see what your future holds?” Patience suggested. She couldn't see how his bitterness would come to any good.

Cody started down the steps, then turned back to her. “Look, I know you mean well, but I've got to handle this my own way. Gotta skedaddle,” he said with a nod.

“I'll be praying for you,” Patience said as he left, but if he heard her, he didn't acknowledge it. Cody was right—would she be able to forgive if she knew the man who'd hanged Russell?

“I bet the tea is cold now, Emily,” Patience said, back in the kitchen. “Cody dropped by, and I was talking with him.” She poured herself a cup.

Emily looked up from a book in her lap. “I never notice the passing of time when I'm reading,” she said with a grin.

“Is that
Jane Eyre
?”

“Yes. I'm enjoying it so much. When I take a break, I simply have to pick it up again.”

“I've read it, so I know what you mean.” Patience smiled, sat down, and sipped at her lukewarm tea.

Emily closed the book. “What did Cody want? From what you've told me, I didn't think he was interested in you.”

Patience set her teacup down. “He isn't. I'm guessing he wanted to apologize for not bringing me home from the dance.”

“Mmm . . . Maybe he's jealous of Jed?”

“Hardly that. We talked about other matters, including the reason he's in Nevada City.” Patience's smile faded.

Emily's brows lifted. “Oh?”

Patience told her the little that she had learned about Cody but asked her to keep the information to herself.

“I won't say a word to anyone,” Emily whispered.

“We better finish our tea so I can start supper. Have you seen Mother?”

“I believe she's in the parlor.”

“I'd better go check on her, but I'll be back in a few minutes.” Patience thought about the advice she'd given Cody, which made her think about her own attitude toward her mother. Perhaps she was a failure at taking her own counsel.

Stunning blue skies and a balmy breeze blew across the valley floor as if to say, “This is the Lord's day—I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Patience, Emily, and Charity were rumbling back from church in a rented buggy, on their way to the Hargrove ranch for Sunday dinner.

“The pastor's sermon really spoke to me this morning about my attitudes,” Charity said after a while. Patience frowned.
Since when has she ever cared one whit about her
attitude?

Emily responded, “I felt the same way, Mrs. Cavanaugh. I'm so grateful that we have a Sunday service to attend. Most mining towns and camps don't have a church of their own, you know.”

Charity smiled. “Then perhaps a person with means could help build a church in Nevada City—like you, Patience.”

Patience laughed. “Me? I have no idea about such things, Mother, and I certainly don't have means!”

“The Lord used people in Scripture who had many vices and even no money. You're becoming successful, so who
knows. This time next year, I'm sure you will be doing quite well.”

Patience took a moment to let her mother's words sink in. She'd never heard the woman talk this way before.
My, my, wonders never cease! But me—build a church
?

“I think that's a wonderful idea, Patience—and you're just the one to do it,” Emily said with an impish little grin.

“Mmm . . . I don't know . . . It's true that one is needed here . . .” She was already thinking of people who might be willing to invest in the labor. But she put those thoughts away as they approached Cross Bar Ranch for their meal with Judith.

“My . . . such a large ranch.” Charity touched the top buttons of her throat. “I wish I had my diamond brooch—”

“Mother, you look fine,” Patience put in quickly. She knew her mother would want Judith to think she was a person of means. “Besides, the brooch might be ostentatious on a cattle ranch in the middle of the day.” Charity gave her a sharp glance while Emily hid a smile behind her hand.

Judith was at the door and came down the steps with hands outstretched as they drove up. She told Patience a ranch hand would take care of the horse and buggy and ushered them inside. The living area was large, furnished and decorated with a mixture of leather and wood. Oversized chairs flanked either side of an enormous stone fireplace, and beautiful carved wood bookcases with glass fronts held leather-bound volumes, which Patience yearned to peruse. She'd been inside only the barn the time she was here for their annual dance.

“You have a beautiful home, Judith,” Patience told her hostess.

Judith's violet eyes coordinated with the lavender trim on
her white linen day dress. She looked cool and comfortable as she greeted her guests. “I'm so glad you could come, and this must be your mother.” Judith reached toward Charity.

“Yes, I am,” she said, shaking the outstretched hand. “It's so nice to meet you, Judith.”

“Right this way, everyone. John is not able to join us today, and I've asked the cook to serve us in my small rose garden. I thought you might enjoy that.”

“I admired your roses the night of the dance,” Patience told her. The roses brought to mind that unexpected time with Jed, and she felt her face growing warm at the thought. She was privately ill at ease when her mind kept straying to that evening, but of course, no one else knew it, thankfully.

Under the shade of a tree, they enjoyed a wonderful meal with friendly conversation around the small table spread with an embroidered cloth. Patience leaned back in her chair and breathed in deeply. It was the first time in a while that she'd felt truly relaxed. She was not surprised, though, when her mother brought up the idea of Patience starting a church building fund. She felt her insides tense. Her mother knew exactly what she was doing.

Judith clapped her hands. “I love the idea.” She turned to Patience. “I'm sure that John and I would be able to help financially with some of the expenses, along with others, of course. A church has been needed here for some time.”

Patience sat forward. “That would be wonderful, Judith, but I haven't said I was ready to initiate a church building fund—that was entirely Mother's idea on the way over here.” Patience heaved a sigh. “It seems like an awfully daunting undertaking—”

“To be sure,” Judith agreed quickly, “but you seem like a
young lady capable enough to handle anything put before you.”

Emily was eagerly nodding. “Of course she is—after all, she's her mother's daughter.”

Charity glanced at Patience, then remarked, “We Cavanaughs have a fighting spirit that runs through our veins, and we can tackle just about anything we set our minds to. I'm very proud of the way she's turned Creekside around.”

Patience sat and stared at her mother, stunned. Was she finally pleased with something Patience had done?

Emily sat up straight and clapped her hands. “Another idea—we could start a choir. I know Patience has a very nice voice. I've heard her singing when we're doing chores,” she added.

Charity bobbed her head. “Of course she can sing, and she can play the piano too. A shame the boardinghouse doesn't have one.”

“I'll talk it over with John,” their hostess said, “but it's possible we even might be able to donate a piano for the boardinghouse so you could sing and play for your guests.” Judith smiled at Patience.

“Oh my, I wasn't suggesting—” Charity began.

“
Mother
 . . . ,” Patience whispered and nudged her mother's arm.

“Why not, may I ask?” Judith looked between Charity and her daughter.

“Because . . . well, Patience has done nicely on her own and has worked on getting Creekside open for business,” Charity said. “We Cavanaughs do not take charity,” she finished with a spritely air.

Patience would have liked to kick her mother's foot under the table.

“Well, I wouldn't exactly call this
charity
, Charity,” Judith said with a little smile. “I think of it as a donation to a good cause. Heaven knows our mining town could use more culture. And certainly if a piano might also be a step toward a church . . .”

“I agree,” Charity said with a firm nod. “Patience has talents for getting things accomplished. Let's see what might happen, both toward a piano and a church, when she puts her mind to it.”

Patience didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Please, can we move on to another topic?”

“See there, Patty, you just took charge!” Charity said, arching her brows.

A smile twitched at the edge of Judith's mouth as she lifted her cup, and Patience shrugged in defeat. “Judith,” she explained, “I had some excellent help sprucing up the boardinghouse. Cody painted the outside for me, and I hired Emily, then made her my partner. I couldn't be happier with how it's turned out.”

“I didn't know you had a partner,” Judith exclaimed. “Two minds of like ambition are always better than one when it comes to business.” She smiled warmly at Emily.

“I'm honored to work with Patience, truly. I couldn't ask for a better ‘boss.'” She chuckled, and the others joined in.

Emily turned to their hostess and said, “Judith, your garden is lovely. Do you take care of the roses yourself?”

“Yes, I do because I enjoy it. I watched my grandmother pruning her roses and coddling them when I was a child, so naturally my own fondness for roses grew.”

“I'd say you're doing a great job!” Emily enthused. “They're beautiful.”

“John gave me my first rose bush, imported from Pennsylvania. Each year, he sees to it that I have another hybrid rose to cultivate.”

Emily clasped her hands together and looked as though she would melt at Judith's story. “Oh, how very romantic!”

“Yes, my John can be a romantic at times, which only makes my heart grow fonder. I've decided our first child—if it's a girl—will be called ‘Rose.'” Judith's gaze dropped and her cheeks grew pink, no doubt feeling a bit shy at sharing such a confidence.

The rest of the dinner continued with additional interesting topics, including the fact that Judith was planning on a hayride soon, which they agreed would be most enjoyable for Nevada City families. When it was time to leave, it was with an invitation to another Sunday dinner soon.

“And, hopefully, John will be free that time—although we'll need to find at least one other man.” They all laughed.

They were waiting for the buggy to be brought around when riders in a cloud of dust came barreling up to the house, John close behind with several of his drovers. He pulled his horse to stop, dismounted, and walked toward them.

He removed his hat and gave them a nod. “Howdy, ladies. Judith, I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I've just been told that more of my herd was stolen!”

“Oh, no, John!” Judith put a hand to her lips. “What are you going to do?”

“I'll tell you what I'm going to do,” he said, his voice sounding taut. “I'm going to get Jedediah on this. I'm sure it has to be the same men who stole the others a few weeks back. I've had enough, and it's time the marshal got down to business and used his skill to find these varmints—or
else!” His grim expression gave some indication of what that “else” might be.

Monty, standing nearby, hands on his hips, spit a wad of tobacco into the dirt. “Those steers would've brought us a good price come fall roundup time.” Monty looked over at Emily, and Patience saw him give her a broad smile. Emily's face brightened in response.

“Is there anything I can do?” Patience asked. “We're headed back to town now.”

“No thanks, I'll handle this myself,” John told her and turned back to his wife. “I wanted to let you know where I was going, Judith. I'll see you at supper.” He gave Judith a peck on the cheek, then turned on his heel, mounted, and left.

Patience felt fingers of cold unfurl in her stomach. John's tone had been threatening—inferring that Jed had disregarded his duty when the first theft had occurred. But she was able to smile at Judith as she said, “We must be going too, Judith, and I want to thank you again for your hospitality.”

“Please don't wait for an invitation to come—any time at all. It gets lonely way out here.”

“We'll have you over for Sunday dinner soon, Judith,” Patience promised again, drawing her gloves on. The three ladies got into the waiting carriage with smiles and waves, Patience picked up the reins, and they headed back to town.

Jedediah was determined to have a late afternoon coffee and read the
Montana Post
before supper. Miners had no
sense of Sunday rest, and he'd spent most of the morning smoothing out miners' disputes about who was the first to stake their claim. At least he'd kept them from pulling out guns and shooting one another. With the current flood of incoming miners, it wouldn't be long before there wasn't any further placer gold to be found. But, he decided, that would be preferable to a town full of transients who most likely would never settle here but simply move on to the next news of a gold strike. He liked the idea of a stable town. He pictured a town square with festivities for families, and houses with white picket fences, and, yes, even a church—an idea that had circled through his head recently.
Might even find myself in a pew
more often than I do now
, he mused.

He took his coffee and paper outside where he could relax and still keep an eye open for trouble. He'd barely got past the first paragraph when he spied John charging toward him, his horse's sides heaving and nostrils flaring.
Must be trouble
, he thought as he stood to his feet.

John slid to an abrupt stop and jumped off his horse. “Jed!” he bellowed. “We've been struck again!” He thumped up the steps, his face full of fury, and Jedediah put his paper down.