The Trouble with Patience (7 page)

By the time Emily peeked in on her, Patience was slowly getting dressed, careful of the bruise on her side. Though she was still stiff, she was grateful her headache had subsided.

“I'm leaving now,” Emily told her, “if you're certain that you can manage getting your breakfast. I didn't want to wake you earlier.” Emily stepped into the room and helped Patience with the buttons on her dress.

“I'll be just fine,” Patience assured her. “Maybe I'll have just a piece of toast this morning, and I can easily manage that. In fact, I feel quite well, except for the soreness in my shoulder and ribs.”

“Good! Now, don't overdo, and I'll see you after supper or as soon as I can get away from the café.”

Patience assured her she would be careful. After she left, Patience tried brushing her hair up into its usual chignon as gently as she could. Tenderness from a bruise and swelling on the side of her head caused a sharp intake of breath. Instead of her comb, she used her fingers to make a loose knot at the back of her head. It would have to do for now, even if Jedediah stopped by, as Emily had indicated he might. She pinched her cheeks to add a little color and was glad for the green sprigged dress that brought out her eyes. Patience sighed. If she couldn't be tall and willowy like Emily, with her golden hair and honey-colored eyes, she could at least be bright and cheerful.

This kind of thinking got her absolutely nowhere.

After downing another two cups of coffee, Jedediah leaned back with his boots propped against the porch railing and surmised that he was simply confused. Considering how he'd reacted earlier, it all made no sense. Patience, with her lovely eyes and witty tongue, along with her deep faith, left him bewildered and wondering. He believed in God, but she seemed to take her faith a step further—writing “devotionals,” whatever they were, and spouting off about them. And then, of all the nerve, suggesting he might have regrets in his past. Why would she presume such a thing about his life? She didn't know him from Adam. Why should he care how many devotionals she wrote? They meant nothing to him, and there was nothing between him and Patience.

Except for some reason or other, she stuck in his craw. He knew little about her—who her parents were, where she came from—and maybe he didn't need to. Forget whatever Hannah said or thought. He and the Patience woman would mix like grub worms in a tomato patch—pure disaster.
Especially if she knew me for
what I really am
.

He'd walk over there now and pay her what he owed her, then leave it at that. At least until he needed lunches again.

Patience was sitting in a rocker on the front porch, chatting with that cowboy still up on the ladder, when Jedediah walked up. Hadn't this dude finished yet? For goodness' sake! He could've had the entire front painted by now.
Cowboy's slow. Or maybe he wants
to paint at a snail's pace to hang around
longer.
He hoped the slowpoke wasn't charging her for the job.

“Why, Jedediah, good morning. It's good to see you this beautiful day. I wanted to thank you for coming to my aid yesterday.” She gave him a little smile. “Forgive me if I don't stand. My head still feels somewhat strange at times.”

Her usual rosy cheeks were pale, and her eyes seemed dull as she gazed at him. A dark blue bruise swelled the side of her face.

“I'm sorry it happened, but glad you're up and feeling better.” He placed one foot on the top step, removed his hat, and leaned an arm across his knee.

A light pink now bathed her face. “Thank you. Emily said you sent for the doctor and—and carried me inside.” She nervously fingered the fringe on the shawl draped across her shoulders. “I hope it wasn't too much of a bother.”

Cowboy cleared his throat and turned to them from the top of the ladder. “
I
was the one who went after the doctor for you, Patience.”

“Sure 'nuff, you did. Because I asked you to, cowboy,” Jedediah drawled.

“
Cody
. My name is Cody.” He flashed an annoyed look at Jedediah.

“Got it. Cody.” Jedediah winked at him, then handed Patience an envelope. “This is payment for the lunches you made. Everyone said to tell you they were delicious,” he said, fully aware that Cody had one ear cocked to their conversation. Wasn't he way too young for Patience?

She nodded, glancing inside the envelope. “I'm glad you all enjoyed the lunches. Just let me know when you think you'll need them again.”

“I'll do that. You take it slow for a few days.” Jedediah could have sworn her eyes softened when she looked into his. He smiled at her, watching her full lips lift at the corners with a sweet smile.

“Oh, don't worry. Emily's making sure of that,” she said. “I'm not cooking for the boarders for the next day or two.”

“Do you need for me to get you over to Longhorn's for supper then?”
Now where did that come from?
he berated himself. But it was asked, and now he couldn't back out without looking ridiculous.

“No need—I'm taking her myself,” Cody called down from his perch.

“Did I ask you?” Jedediah straightened, irritated, and stared upward. “The lady can speak for herself.”

“I don't
require
anyone to take me to supper,” Patience announced archly. “But Cody was nice enough to ask me
earlier. Maybe you'd care to join us?” Her smile was sweet and, Jedediah thought, genuine.

“I'll pass,” he told her. “I've got to get back to work. Riffraff passing through Nevada City are always keeping me on my guard, you know,” he said with a quick glance at Cody. He put his hat on and noticed Cody eyeing his badge, the muscles in his jaw flinching hard. Maybe he hadn't seen it yesterday.
Good!
At least he knows who I
am now.

Patience stood and reached over, almost touching his arm, but drew her hand back. “Perhaps another night . . .”

“We'll see.” What the devil was wrong with him? Eating alone was becoming tedious and lonely. However, Cody had his eye on her, and who was he to get in the way of that?

Patience chuckled, though it sounded forced. “I wouldn't want to twist your arm.”

“You're not. It's just that I've got a lot of things to do . . . and it looks like you won't be needing my help with painting now.”

Patience was looking down at her shoe tops. “I see. Well, in that case, thank you again for your help. Cody was free for now and wanted something to do and offered to do some painting for me. I'm on my way inside to rest now.” She slipped through the doorway and disappeared, leaving him to wonder.

Was it something he'd said? He never could understand the workings of a woman's mind. Who could?

Cody lifted the brush from the pail with a distinct harrumph, and Jedediah stared hard at him, then stalked off.
Good luck, cowboy
. Maybe some of her manners will wear off on you
.

Throughout supper at the Longhorn, though Cody was both handsome and attentive, Patience's mind kept wandering back to Jedediah. She was embarrassed to have her invitation to join them turned down, especially in front of Cody. What was she thinking? She'd clearly mistaken Jedediah's interest in her accident for romantic notions. She shook her head briefly, and Cody looked puzzled. At least he seemed interested in their friendship, and she forced herself to pay attention to what he said.

The Longhorn was the nicest place to eat in town, and any other time Patience would have thoroughly enjoyed it, but not tonight. The decor was homey, with blue-checked tablecloths and blue spatterware. This was the first time she'd eaten here, and she could see how it could be a cozy place to enjoy eating with friends. But even though their dinner of thick steaks and potatoes looked delicious, her inward turmoil distracted her.

She leaned back in the comfortably upholstered chair with a sigh.

“Your appetite seems to have disappeared. Are you sure you're feeling better?”

Patience laid her fork down. “Yes, I am. But a steak as large as this one is more than I can manage.” The truth was, her jaw hurt when she chewed. It was a wonder that she hadn't lost her teeth from the fall.

Patience tried to take the focus from herself. “Tell me, have you had any jobs of interest materialize yet?”

“Not yet, but I'm not too concerned. When I'm finished painting, I'll help you out with a few things that you need done around the inn. If I don't find something soon, I'll move on to the next town. That's the life of a cowboy. I'm used to it.” His eyes held a certain melancholy when he looked into hers. “I have some money saved to tide me over until something turns up.”

If he stayed in Nevada City, Patience knew he'd have the ladies swarming around him with his dark good looks and affable personality. “Tell me about your family, Cody.”

His shoulders stiffened as he cut into his steak. “There's not much to tell. My pa taught me how to handle cows and horses at a young age, but he fell on hard times after my mother died, so I struck out on my own, working here and there. What about you?”

“I inherited the Creekside from my grandmother after she died. At first I wasn't sure I'd want to stay, but it seems preferable to living with my mother.”

Cody arched a dark brow. “She wants to be in charge?”

“Yes.” Patience didn't feel compelled to share details with him.

They were interrupted as Emily stopped by their table. “How's your dinner? I asked the cook to make sure your steak was especially tender for you, Patience.”

“It's really wonderful, but I'm afraid it's more than I can eat. Please thank the cook for me, will you? I'm going to take the rest home with me, if that's all right.”

Emily's face looked tired, but she managed to smile at them, assuring Patience that would be fine and she'd wrap it up as well as pass along her thanks to the cook. She'd been on the job for hours, and Patience knew her feet and legs must be very weary. She felt sorry for her new friend, making a promise to herself to have a nice cup of tea and biscuit ready for Emily when she returned tonight.

Emily glanced over to Cody. “Will you be having dessert?”

He gave her a smile. “Sure. Do you have vanilla custard? That would be easy for Patience to eat.”

“Coming right up. I'll take these plates if you're through.” At Patience's nod, she began clearing the table.

“Emily—perhaps coffee too?” Patience suggested.

Emily nodded, and after she left, Cody asked, “Why aren't you married?”

His rather direct question took her by surprise. Swallowing hard, she answered, “I came close to it . . . or at least I believe I was about to become engaged, but a tragedy occurred.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The man I hoped to marry was hanged for cattle rustling,” she blurted out, and all the pain and memories of Russell's death came flooding back. Suddenly the room was stifling hot—whether from the heat that rushed to her head or heat from the kitchen mixed with the summer air, she couldn't have said.

Shock registered on Cody's face and his brows creased into a tight line. “You don't say? You don't look like the type of lady who would be . . . well, would be involved with someone like that, if you don't mind me saying so.”

She heard regret in his voice. “That's because he wasn't that type of person.”

He gave her a curious gaze. “Do you know that for sure? Sometimes we can't always see the real person. Do you know who—well, who hanged him?”

This kind of talk was making her as uncomfortable as her corset. “Cody, if you don't mind, I need to get back to the inn. I'm suddenly feeling very tired.” She moved her chair back. “Please tell Emily I'm sorry about the dessert. Maybe she can take a break and enjoy it with you—looks like she could use one.”

Cody's eyes narrowed with surprise. “I'm sorry you aren't feeling well.” He stood and reached for his hat. “I'll be glad to walk you back and skip the pudding myself.”

“No, no. I'll be fine. It's only a block. Really, just relax and enjoy your dessert. Perhaps I'll see you in the morning?” she said, gathering her shawl about her.

“Yes, of course. Try to get some sleep, and thank you for having dinner with me.” He bowed his head slightly.

“You're welcome.” She hurried out of the restaurant, gulping in the much-needed evening air, hoping to clear her fuzzy thoughts.

She needed to get out of this corset that threatened to shut off her breathing entirely. She'd laced it as tight as she was able to without causing more pain, to give the appearance of a smaller waist. And she'd wanted to wear her favorite green dimity dress from last year that seemed to have gotten smaller.

Thankfully, the sun already had slipped behind the mountains, and the fresh air cooled her face and neck. She dabbed at her upper lip and picked up her pace. She lifted her head and saw Jedediah walking toward her.

He tipped his hat, slowing his steps. “Evening, ma'am. Going to a fire or running from someone?” he asked with a sardonic grin.

“Don't jest with me,” she scolded, suddenly feeling strange. She pulled her shawl tighter about her, and marched right past him, her heels ringing against the boardwalk.

———

Jedediah paused with his hands on his hips and stared at her stiff-backed form receding down the boardwalk. Snubbing him only confirmed that something he'd said or done had upset her.
Probably didn't like me joking about her
evening with Cowboy not going like she'd hoped.

He went on his way, walking through the small town as he did every evening. Wallace Street still had folks coming and going about their business. He liked his job of keeping order and peace in Nevada City, knowing winter meant the number of miners would dwindle due to the cold and snow. That's when he would catch up on his reading and paperwork, or clean his collection of guns, or keep up his target practice.

He'd only walked a few steps when he heard a thump from behind. He spun around to see Patience crumpled on the boardwalk. He was at her side in two shakes.

“Can't . . . breathe . . . can't . . . ,” she barely whispered, and she fumbled with the buttons on the front of her bodice. Her face was pale and glistening in the moon rising behind them.

Mumbling a mild curse, Jedediah did the only thing he knew to do for someone with the vapors. He whipped out his bowie knife and quickly slit the tight cords holding the front of her lace corset together. Patience took a deep breath, and the color began returning to her face.

He took the shawl bunched up behind her back and covered her delicate white skin. He scooped her up in his arms, muttering, “Why do women wear such contraptions?” He did not expect a reply, but he noticed how she'd naturally slipped her arms around his neck.

“I . . . just . . . wanted . . .” But her voice drifted away.

“Don't say anything more, Patience.” He strode quickly toward the Creekside Inn, conscious of townspeople staring with open mouths as he stalked past. Reaching the inn, Jedediah shoved open the front door with a kick of his boot. He carried her over to the couch, gently laying her down, and placed a needlepoint cushion under her head for support. She opened her eyes long enough to gaze up at him in disbelief and embarrassment.

He stood a moment looking down at her. “I think you'd better get back to bed. That concussion has affected you more than you realize.” He turned on his heel and walked out into the night.

Moments later, Jedediah saw Cody and Emily in conversation in front of the Longhorn. Well, what was it? Was this Cody attracted to Emily too? Maybe the cowboy was the kind of man that liked to keep the ladies guessing. Jedediah was painfully reminded of years before, when he was younger and better looking and the woman he'd planned to marry had jilted him. He'd never gotten over it.
Reason enough to remain a bachelor
, he thought as he kicked an errant stone out of his way. Which is why it disturbed him that Patience crept into his daily thoughts lately.

He touched the tip of his hat to a couple who walked past. Cody eyed him and Emily said, “Good evening, Marshal.”

No doubt they were heading back to Creekside where they both were staying. “Evening, ma'am. If you're heading back to the inn, you might want to check on Patience.”

Cody frowned. “She said she wasn't feeling well at supper and left before dessert. I fear that concussion is worse than she thought.”

“Maybe,” he said tersely.

Emily held up her skirts and hurried toward the boardinghouse. “I'll go see to her.”

Jedediah continued on his way, keeping an eye out for any indication of trouble. He was grateful he didn't have to separate a drunk or two tonight. He'd had more than a handful of difficulties already, and grinned wryly at the memory of scooping a woman up in his arms . . . for the second time in a week.

Before '65, he knew, the only law in the territory had been miners' law. By the time he'd arrived as marshal, the town had drastically reduced in size due to the stripping of placer gold from the Alder Gulch strike. It was dark now as he approached his office, and he glanced up at the full yellow moon. A peculiar loneliness swept over him. Shaking off the feeling, he trudged the last few steps to spend yet another night in his dismal, cramped room above the jailhouse. Except now he was haunted by the memory of Patience's soft, limp body against his chest.

After a night of tossing and turning, Jedediah rose, washed his face, and slipped on his jeans and shirt. He stared back at his face in the small mirror above the pitcher and basin.
How could
anyone love this face?
he wondered. He shook
his head crossly. What was Cody's purpose in Nevada City? He'd ask around about this cowboy today, see what he could find out. He pulled on his boots, and made for the stairs.

By the time his boots hit the last step, he saw Hannah through the glass door front, her usual basket on her arm. He moved to the door, reached over to unlock it, and the lady sauntered in, full of vim and vigor.

“Good night, woman! Can't a man wake up first before you deliver breakfast?” he growled.

“My, my—aren't we grouchy this morning?” she teased as she placed the basket on his desk. “I can't stay but a minute or two before I need to open up the bakery.”

Not a minute
too soon
, he groused silently
.
He went to light a fire in the potbellied stove while she assembled the coffeepot, filling it with water and coffee. She brought it over and placed it on the stove.

Jedediah had a moment's regret for his dark mood. He actually appreciated that she was comfortable being with him like a mother. He noticed the prominent blue veins on the back of her arthritic hands. No doubt they'd seen a lot of hard work in her lifetime.