The Trouble with Patience (19 page)

James and Kit galloped away as Jedediah contemplated what else to do. “Men, let's stick together and hunt down the killers that did this. They can't be too far away.”

“I'm coming with you,” Monty said, and Jedediah nodded.

Patience and Emily had finished the lunch dishes and were about to plan the supper menu when Emily hurried to answer the doorbell.

“Two cowboys in the parlor to see you, Patience,” Emily told her quietly.

“Cowboys? The only one I know is Cody.”

“It's not Cody, but they look like they have serious business,” Emily said. “So I took them to the parlor.”

“Mmm . . . okay. I'll go see what this is about. You could start on supper ideas.”

When she entered the parlor the cowboys stood.
Cowboys
or not
,
they have good manners
, she thought,
and they've also removed their hats
.

“What can I help you gentlemen with? Are you inquiring about a room?”

The young one looked at his companion and the older one answered. “I'm James and this is Kit. We're part of Jed's posse. Jed tells me that you know Judith Hargrove?”

“I do. Why? What is this about?” Patience was beginning to feel uneasy.

Kit looked down and twirled his hat. James said, “John, her husband, was ambushed last night. They found him—they found his body—when he didn't return home.”

Patience drew in a sharp breath, her stomach a knot of pain. “Oh, how awful! Is Judith all right?”

“I couldn't say for sure, but Jed wanted me to escort you to the Cross Bar to attend to her. She has no family here in Montana.”

“Oh, of course I will!” She turned toward the kitchen. “Let me tell Emily that I'm leaving and I'll fetch my hat and handbag.”

Kit finally spoke. “We'll wait outside for you, if that's okay.”

“Yes, and I'll be out right away.” Patience's heart felt like
it was being squeezed by a giant fist. And to think they'd just had lunch with poor Judith!

By the time she had told Emily she was leaving and why, grabbed her handbag and hat, and returned to the parlor, one of the men had gone to the livery for a small buggy and had harnessed up his horse to it.

The three were quickly on their way back to the Hargrove ranch. Patience found herself leaning forward as if to spur the horse to greater speed.
O Lord, help me to know
what to say to Judith, how to help her.
Then her thoughts went to Russell and her own terrible loss. What would have been most comforting to her back then?

As they drove up to the home where they'd enjoyed the lovely meal with Judith, Patience took a deep breath. James courteously helped her out of the buggy and up the steps to the double doors, already open. She took another breath, then stepped into the parlor. Judith was sitting on a large sofa, her face buried in a handkerchief, with Jedediah beside her.

“Don't you worry, Judith,” he was telling her. “We won't quit until we find whoever did this.”

The two of them looked over at Patience as she stood by the door. Judith was sobbing, and she tried to stand. Jed helped her to her feet, and Patience went straight to the poor woman. The two held each other tightly, and Patience soothed the devastated widow.

“I'm so, so very sorry, Judith,” she whispered. Judith pressed her face into Patience's shoulder with heartbreaking cries. Patience looked at Jedediah and shook her head, tears in her own eyes. Instinctively she knew there were no words she could say that would console her new friend. Only time—
a
long
time—would heal the wound. After several minutes, Judith pulled away to wipe her nose and eyes.

“Can I get you a cup of hot tea . . . anything at all?” Patience asked.

“No . . . nothing . . . I have a terrible headache.” Judith blew her nose once again.

“Is there anyone I can contact for you? Someone from your family?” she asked.

“I haven't any family left.” She hiccupped, staring out the window. “There's headache powder in the kitchen pantry.”

Jedediah motioned to Patience. “Can I talk with you?” He mouthed the words and nodded toward the kitchen.

Patience said, “I'll bring you something for your headache.” Judith didn't move a muscle but continued staring outside. Patience led the way to the kitchen. “This is all so very shocking, Jed. I feel
so
sorry for her. Do you think this has anything to do with the rustlers?” she asked him.

Jedediah's face was etched with his own sadness. “I think it has everything to do with the rustlers. Do you think you could take her back to Creekside to stay a couple of days with you? I'd feel better about her safety. This was a cold-blooded killer.”

“Why, of course. I'll pack up a few things for her, and you go ahead and suggest that to her while I make her tea with headache powder.”

“Yes,” he answered quietly, his hand on her arm. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I was sure that you would.” His eyes held hers in a steady gaze.

She blinked away her tears and covered his hand with hers. “I could do nothing less, Jed. I haven't lost a husband but I lost a dear father . . . and someone else I cared for. I feel
deep sympathy for her.” Patience squeezed his hand, and he turned his so their hands were grasped together.

“I'll go speak with her then.” He turned and strode out of the kitchen. She dug around in the pantry until she found the powder, then brewed a cup of tea for Judith.
Poor soul. No family to share her grief
with will be awfully hard
.

Patience was determined, though, to support her new friend through the very difficult days ahead.

The trip back to Nevada City was quiet and solemn except for Judith's soft weeping. Kit drove the two back in the borrowed buggy. He was thoughtful and gentle to Judith, helping her with her carpetbag and speaking in a quiet voice. It was obvious that Judith was well liked by the ranch hands.

Patience's mother and Emily were at the door when she helped Judith up the steps and inside. She gathered that news of the tragedy must have already spread through town. “I've just made a pot of tea, Judith, or if you prefer I'll make coffee,” Emily spoke softly.

“It doesn't really matter . . . I—I can't seem to think.” Judith pressed her handkerchief to her trembling mouth. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry, dear, for your terrible heartache,” Charity put in, shaking her head. “I just don't understand how someone could shoot a person in cold blood, then leave him—”

“Mother,” Patience said, trying to keep her voice low yet firm without sounding irritated, “let's give Judith a little time to herself, all right?”

Patience settled Judith on the settee. “Don't you worry
about a thing, Judith. You can sit here or lie back on a pillow while I prepare a room for you.”

“Oh, there's no need, Patience,” Emily said quickly. “I'll share your room, if that's all right with you, and she can have mine. I've already changed the bedding and dusted,” Emily assured her.

“Oh, thank you, Emily. You're such a dear,” Patience said.

Judith spoke up from her place on the settee. “I don't want to put you out of your room, Emily, especially since I have a home full of rooms . . . and emptiness.” Judith's tears had started again from eyes already swollen and red.

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
.