The Trouble with Patience (18 page)

“Let's go inside to talk, John.” John followed him inside, and Jedediah shut the door behind them. “Tell me about it—”

“I've had it up to here!” John spit out, indicating his chest with his hand. “You've got to quit sitting around reading the paper and find whoever it is that's stealing my herd. I've had my men on twenty-four-hour stakeout, but it didn't stop them from taking more of my prized stock!” His jaw muscles twitched in agitation.

“Sounds like you're trying to blame me, John, for this latest travesty.” Jedediah didn't like being considered a slacker. “My
men and I scoured the area for miles into the next county—and not my jurisdiction.”

John wasn't even listening. “If you don't do something about it, Marshal, I'll have to take matters into my own hands.” John's eyes narrowed.

“Is that a threat?” Jed's ire was rising too.

“Call it whatever you like! But I'd suggest you track somebody down and bring 'em in or else you'll lose your badge. I just might have to make a visit to the territorial governor.”

Jedediah's hands clenched, and he desperately tried to control his anger. “Your threats mean nothing to me. No one else wanted this job or had the guts for it. Okay, let's get the details now. Tell me when you discovered the steers were missing.”

“This afternoon, when my men were rounding up the herd to move it to a higher pasture. The heat has parched a lot of my grass, and—”

“I'll call some men together,” Jed interrupted, “and we can head out at first light. It's getting toward dusk. With this happening right on the heels of the first, they could be still hanging around to hit you again. Reckon they've been hiding out in the high country.”

“I don't care where they're hiding out—I want them found and hanged!”

“Hold on now—don't go causing even more trouble by getting riled up. Neither of us wants you doing anything you might regret.”
I know about
regrets.

“Trust me, I won't regret whatever it takes,” the man growled. “It took me years to build my spread and make a home for Judith. Those steers will be worth plenty on hoof by
roundup time this fall. I'll be out looking for clues—I suggest you do the same.” He turned to stride down the steps and swing back onto his horse, galloping away in a cloud of dust.

Jedediah shook his head. He'd get the word out to some men for another posse, let Patience know boxed dinners were needed pronto.

Just when he'd thought he might have a chance to relax.

Patience tapped her pen against her notebook, trying to concentrate on the devotional she was writing, but her thoughts kept drifting to Jedediah and John—who seemed to be at odds about catching the rustlers. Added to that was her recent unsettling conversation with Cody. She admitted she wasn't sure she could forgive the man who'd hanged an innocent person like Russell. But how did she know Cody was innocent of the accused crime? Her instincts seemed to tell her he was being truthful. Maybe she should be telling
herself
to forgive instead of lecturing Cody about it. There certainly was room for spiritual growth within herself.

“Lord,” she whispered, “help me be the person You want me to be . . . and please help me sort out my feelings about Jed.”

That evening after supper, everyone, including Emily, had gone to their rooms after a long day. The newlyweds, Will and Liza, always went for a walk before turning in.

Patience was back at the desk in the parlor, Buttercup warming her lap. She savored the quiet and slowly turned the pages of her Bible, contemplating what God might be teaching her, writing those thoughts down in her notebook. Soon she'd have a manuscript complete enough that she might have Emily send it to her uncle.

As she was writing, Buttercup leaped from her lap and ran up the stairs. Patience heard movement on the porch and saw a shadow through the window. Who in the world was out there in the dark? Her residents had their own keys, and she was glad that the door stayed locked after ten o'clock. A shuffling of boots against squeaky porch boards and a soft knock at the door didn't sound alarming, though.

Patience pulled her shawl about her, tiptoed to the door, and lifted one corner of the lace curtain. Actually, she wasn't surprised to see Jedediah there after how John had all but accused him of negligence today at the ranch. She quietly unbolted the lock, opening the door just enough to speak with him.

“Jed,” she whispered, “I suppose you know what time it is.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Yes, I know it's late, but something's come up. Can you step out here for a minute?”

Patience opened the door and moved out into the moonlight. “How did you know I would still be up?”

“I saw the light burning through the window and figured you were working on your writing.”

“You are, in fact, correct, but I'm sure you didn't stop by to hear my explanation of forgiveness from the Word. I am happy to see you, though. So what's the matter?”

“You've probably heard there's been another incident at
the Cross Bar Ranch,” Jed said, motioning her to the rocker and taking a seat nearby. “More of John's cattle were stolen. Are you able to put four boxed lunches together on such short notice for the morning?”

Patience pursed her lips, thinking. “I may have enough from supper to make some sandwiches from leftovers. Will that do?”

“Anything will do. And thank you.” He leaned back and looked at her. “By the way, Patience, it's awfully nice to see you in the moonlight after a hard day.”

Patience was glad that he wasn't able to see her embarrassment. His face seemed very appealing in the moonlight too. All she could manage, though, was a low “Thank you.”

Jedediah leaned forward, but she drew back. “Not even a little hug?” His smile faded.

“Not out here, Jed. We could be seen—”

His harrumph stopped her explanation. “I doubt anyone is up this late and peering out their windows. I've nothing to hide.”

“You never know who might have insomnia tonight, and I don't want there to be talk.”

He moved back in his chair. “Oh, I forgot you're a virtuous woman,” he joked.

Her throat felt dry, and she wasn't sure if he was simply making fun. “Matter of fact, my goal
is
to be virtuous, according to the Scriptures, and I have a respectable boardinghouse to run and don't want anyone getting the wrong idea.” She stood and reached for the doorknob. He quickly stood too and covered her hand with his own.

“Least of all me?” Jed's voice was husky.

His hand was large—warm—strong. It would be so easy to fall against his broad chest, feel the beating of his heart
against her ear, but she mustn't. “Please, Jed. This is not the time or place. I'll have your boxes ready for you at six. We both need to get to—to get our rest. Don't knock . . . better come to the side door of the kitchen. I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Jed,” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand and lifted his hand from hers. “I'm looking forward to that picnic under the pines . . .” He backed away, walked down the steps, and started down the sidewalk.

She watched him disappear in the darkness, then hurried back inside. She shoved her notebook into a drawer and doused the light at her desk. She wouldn't be able to concentrate any further tonight.

Thunderation!
I'll never understand the ways
of a woman
, he thought
,
shoving his hands in his pockets.
Is she interested? . . . Or not?
Maybe it was all in his head.

He didn't have time to dwell on it—not now. He needed to find whoever was stealing cattle right from under John's nose—and his own. He knew that John had the influence to see to it that he lost his job, but he wasn't all that concerned about that. He was more worried about some no-account rustler still hanging around. He'd been wrong thinking they'd fled further south.

As he climbed into bed, he muttered, “A good night's sleep, and I'll be ready to face down a rustler . . . or a woman who can't make up her own mind!”

The next thing he knew a loud rapping on the downstairs door roused him from deep sleep. Jedediah saw it was near daylight as he dragged on his pants and hurried downstairs.

Jedediah flipped the lock and swung the door open, and it was Monty that strode inside, breathing heavily.

“For Pete's sake, Jed, I declare you could sleep through an earthquake!” Monty complained.

“You're lucky I stopped long enough to pull my pants on! Now what in tarnation—”

“Jed.” Monty stopped him with an abrupt movement of his hand. “John never came home last night after he spoke to you. I fear something bad has happened to him—a bear, or accident—”

“Give me a few minutes. My posse will be meeting me in fifteen minutes—”

“We've searched all over the Cross Bar with no luck, and Judith has worried herself sick.”

Jedediah remembered how angry and hotheaded John seemed yesterday. He sure did hope John was holed up someplace during the night for a good reason. Jedediah didn't want to worry Judith unnecessarily.

“I'm leaving to go back to the ranch. I'll let you know if he shows up,” Monty said, wheeling out the door.

“Good idea. Judith may need protection.”

Monty whipped back, his eyes flicking back and forth nervously. “You know something I don't?”

“Nah . . . was just thinking out loud.” But something about it all did not sit right with Jedediah. It might have to do with the rustlers, but until he knew for certain, he wouldn't speculate.

“Catch up with you later, Jed.” Monty flew down the porch steps, mounting his horse before Jed could get back inside.

Jed hurriedly finished dressing, holstered his Colt, and
grabbed his Winchester. In less than a half hour, he and his men were hightailing it out of town.

This time they'd travel south, looking for clues along the Cross Bar property line. They spread out in a wide fan, the early sun high enough to likely show up whatever might lead them to the rustlers.

Whoever or however many were involved, Jedediah found nothing of interest. He finally reined Charlie in, propping his arms across his saddle horn. It looked like they'd been outsmarted again, but at the same time he didn't want to rush to judgment. He didn't want to even think it, but he couldn't help but wonder if it could be Bob or Cody. They worked for John—it'd be easy to know where the cattle grazed, then tip off a partner in crime when the coast was clear.

Along about midday with the sun baking down on his back, he slid off his horse, reached for his canteen, and took a long swig.
Thank God for water!
he thought as he also watered his horse. He'd sure be glad when autumn set in. Just as he was about to mount again, he noticed grass compressed in an unusual way near some underbrush. It was strange enough that he cautiously moved in that direction.

He was not prepared for what he saw, and he'd seen many a dead body. John lay sprawled on his back, a trail of dried blood down his face and shirt. Most likely he'd seen his killer face-to-face. Jed thought how horrible that must have been as he crouched down for a closer look.

Scenes flashed across his memory—other times he'd seen men with no life left in them, faces slack or distorted in agony. He shook his head, as if that would dislodge the memories. It just wasn't right that men killed their own to satisfy their greed, their search for happiness. Or vengeance. But he'd
pulled the trigger—or given the order—when it was required by western law and justice, just as it must be when soldiers in battle had no choice but to defend freedom.

Somehow it was all so very sad, like the stillness of the day, the sizzling heat, and the buzzing of flies about John's bloody head. He was glad Judith wouldn't have to see it.

He fired a shot in the air to signal the posse, and soon the others came riding up.

The two men stood in the yard at the Cross Bar. “Judith is taking it very hard, no family and all . . .” Monty's voice drifted off as he reported the situation to Jedediah. “I can't stand to see a woman cry,” he said with a shake of his head. “John was a good man, good to all his ranch hands.”

“We can't leave her alone here,” Jedediah said. “I have an idea.” He motioned to James and Kit. “James, take Kit with you and ride back into town. See if you can get Miss Patience to come out to the ranch and be with Judith. The woman could use another woman's touch about now, and I can't think of a better person to comfort her.”