The Trouble with Patience (24 page)

“I did, but maybe he's just being nice—she's lost her husband not that long ago, Jed.”
What is he getting at
?

“Probably so.” He shrugged, then asked if she was pleased with how Creekside was doing.

“It's been coming along nicely. Emily is a hard worker and spreads her cheer to every resident without fail each day. Our partnership is working out great.”

“That's good. And I owe you for the last lunches you made. Remind me when I leave you at the boardinghouse. It slipped my mind that night I returned from Helena.” He gazed over at her with a grin. “I wonder why?”

She laughed. “I have no idea. So maybe there's someone you'd like to know better?” Patience teased.

He hooted, then recovered. “That's the best idea I've heard in a long time.”

Patience's heart was soaring. This rough, tough former vigilante's heart was softening, and it was
she
that he wanted to know better.
Bye bye
,
Millie
, she thought mischievously.

After he'd delivered Patience to Creekside and returned the rig, Jed decided to pay Hannah a visit. This hour of the day the bakery was devoid of customers. “What do you know about Monty?” he asked after the usual pleasantries. “You've known him longer than I have,” he added.

Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Let's see. He was John's foreman. And John, we know, was considered a good judge of character.”

“Anything else?”

“Monty's worked for John—and now Judith—about three years. He's ambitious, I can tell. He used to drop in when he came to town for something or other and often said he'd own a spread as big as John's someday soon. Always talking about betterin' himself.”

Jedediah rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Is he courting Emily?”

“Now how you expect I know all this about folks?” She gave him a shrewd look.

He had to chuckle. “I know you have plenty of customers,
and they say things and you listen—like me. You also keep an eye out for this kind of thing.”

Hannah poured them both a cup of coffee, and they sat down at the little round table. “Ah, feels good to get off my feet. Let's see. Last I heard he was courting her. She's a sweet gal, and I hope he does good by her. But to tell you the truth, I always assumed he'd find someone of substance. You know . . .” She didn't finish the thought.

“Like Judith, perhaps?” Jedediah said, looking at her over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Judith Hargrove? Land sakes, no! She's married—I mean widowed . . . What are you getting at, Jed? I know something is running around in that head of yours.”

“You always have been able to read me better than anyone. I was just wondering if he knows more than he's saying about John. That's all,” Jedediah answered. He swallowed the last of his coffee and shoved his chair back. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“I'll ask Joe to keep his ears open, but he's promised me not to go near the saloon, and that seems to be where he hears most everything—gossip, I mean.”

“I'm glad you two are getting along so well. Joe seems like a changed man.”

Hannah beamed. “You know he's thinking of coming to work with me in the bakery, giving up his claim?”

Jedediah grinned. “Now that's about the best news I've heard all week. I hope he does it.” He left change on the table for the coffee, tipped his hat at her, and left.

Patience sliced apples for the strudel she was planning for tonight's dessert. One of the things she loved to do most was
bake. She'd already rolled out the dough very thin—all she had to do was fill it with apple slices and roll it up to bake. She wanted it to be extra special since Jedediah was going to join them for supper. She felt a little giddy at the thought since he'd never actually eaten at the Creekside before.

“Patience! Come!” Emily sailed into the kitchen. “There's a delivery for you.”

“What delivery? I haven't ordered anything—”

“I don't know, but hurry and let's find out.” Emily tugged on Patience's arm. She dropped the knife into the bowl of sliced apples and followed Emily through the hall and out to the porch.

Four men grinned at them from their perch on a wagon's front seat, and four more young fellows waved at the two women from the back of the wagon. A large object between the men was covered with canvas.

“What's this all about?” Patience asked.

“Come see for yourself,” one of the men said, jumping down and motioning for Patience and Emily to follow. He strode to the back of the wagon, and the others helped him peel back the canvas.

“A piano!” Patience gasped. “There must be some mistake. I—I haven't ordered one.” The young men in the back laughed, then hopped out of the wagon. Patience looked at Emily, who held her hands palms up and shook her head in bewilderment.

“It ain't no mistake, lady. You're Patience Cavanaugh?” the driver asked.

“Yes, but—”

“Then we're at the right place.” He turned to the men and gave them orders. “We'll have four of us on each side.” He
swung around. “Now, ma'am, if you'll just tell us where to put this.” A curious crowd was gathering about them.

“I—I don't know . . .” Patience stammered. “I guess in the parlor.”

“All right, men. You heard the lady.”

“I'll go open the door,” Emily said. “It's a double one, so I think you'll be able to get the piano through there.”

Patience watched in utter shock as the men took their places to lift the instrument. After it had been lifted over the side, her hands went to her mouth, and she stumbled back a step.
It's
my
piano! The one I
played when I was a little girl!

Patience found herself stunned but thrilled at the same time. She slowly went over to it, afraid it would disappear into thin air, and traced its fine craftsmanship with her hand. How had Mother ever come to part with it? This said a lot about her new relationship with her mother, and tears filled her eyes and threatened to overflow to her cheeks. Patience would be able to play for her residents and guests. Oh, what a perfect evening it was turning out to be. She forced herself to contain her enthusiasm and not to actually shout “hooray” in the street.

Patience clasped her hands together in nervous delight and watched the men huff and struggle with the weight of the piano up the steps. But somehow they managed to set it in the parlor near the window. A perfect spot where she could look out as she played.
Oh this is too
wonderful to be true!

“There you are, ma'am. Oh, I almost forgot,” the driver said, fishing in his pocket and handing her an envelope. She fumbled to get it open.

Dearest Patience,

I thought you should have the instrument of your heart as you continue with your business and possibly a church. The piano, without you, is of no use to me now. I'm sure you will enjoy it and entertain your friends.

Now you know why I seemed to protest when Judith offered to donate one to you for the boardinghouse. You can tell her about this and thank her for her offer.

I enjoyed my visit immensely, and Daddy, I'm sure, would be proud of his little girl, all grown up.

With deep affection,
Mother

Patience folded the letter, brushing new tears from her cheeks. She reached into her apron pocket for a tip for the driver and his workers.

“Thank you kindly.” The driver doffed his hat and the delivery crew departed.

When the door had closed behind them, both Emily and Patience hugged and jumped up and down with joy. “I'm in shock,” Patience said, catching her breath and holding out the note to Emily.

“This calls for a celebration tonight!” Emily said, still smiling as she looked up from reading the letter.

“Let's shut the parlor doors now and not say a word until after supper. Then we can tell our residents. By then I can get my piano music out of my trunk.” Patience looked around in a daze. “I wonder if I still know how to play?” She paused. “Jed will be coming to supper tonight, and I want to make a good impression.”

Emily took her elbow. “You will, but go find the music now, and I'll finish peeling the apples. I can do that without causing too serious a calamity, right? We must hurry if we're to have supper ready on time.”

Twinkling lights along with fiddle music flowed from the two saloons, burgeoning with miners spending their gold.
Guess they'll
never learn
, Jedediah thought, shaking his head as he walked over to Creekside for supper. He'd finally get a home-cooked meal that Patience had prepared, and he was mightily looking forward to it. It'd also be a few hours without worries about John's killer.

Patience opened the door to him, looking fresh as a daisy wearing a green dress with a delicate white collar. Immediately, Jed's palms started to perspire. Not even when he was drawing his gun on a bandit did he ever have sweaty palms. This is what she did to him—and she had no idea.

“I'm glad you're here, Jed,” she said. “Please come in. We're gathered in the dining room. May I take your hat?”

He felt like a schoolboy. “Oh, why, yes, of course.” He handed his Stetson to her, and she hung it on the hall hat rack.

“Let's join the others.” Patience led the way, the vanilla scent she wore compelling him to follow her—anywhere.

He was greeted by several guests who'd already taken their seats. Patience waved a hand toward Jed. “Everyone, I'd like you to meet our marshal, Jedediah Jones.” They all nodded, and she introduced each guest. “You already know Emily, Will, and Liza, and this is Mark, Conrad, Michael, and Matthew.”

“You're in for a real treat, folks,” Emily announced,
returning from the kitchen with a platter of fried chicken and placing it in the center of the table.

“This is my favorite part of the day, Marshal,” the gentleman named Will said. “I'm always delighted to see what Miss Patience has cooked up for dinner.”

“Will, you enjoy
all
of Patience's cooking, not just dinner,” Liza pointed out.

“It sure does look tasty to me,” Jedediah agreed, taking the seat Patience offered beside her.

Emily sat down and began to pass the bowls around. Small talk around the table was soon going strong, but Jedediah didn't have much to add to the conversation. For some reason he'd never given much thought to the eligible men staying at the boardinghouse. Some were only passing through, but Michael and Matthew were brothers who owned one of the largest mines.

While he dined on Patience's delicious fried chicken, Jedediah chided himself for his lack of awareness. The brothers were friendly toward their hostess, but as he observed them, he soon realized they had one focus—their mine and their workers, not Patience. Every chance he got, he glanced at her and decided that she was like a warm, gentle rain to his soul.

“Do you have an opinion, Jedediah?” Will was asking.

“I'm sorry, I guess I was savoring every bite,” Jedediah said. “What was the question?”

“There's a rumor that Patience may consider forming a committee to get a church going in the community,” Will repeated. “What do you think about a church?”

“Is that so?” Jedediah looked at Patience. “I think it's a fine idea. Better than having to go over to Virginia City, so I would
agree.” He considered himself less than an authority because he'd attended only a few times. He'd have to do better.

Patience took a deep breath. “It seems others have determined that I should take on this venture. It was all started by my mother when she was visiting, and you know how insistent she can be.”

“We'd help in any way we can, wouldn't we?” Emily said, looking around the table.

The topic was thoroughly discussed, including securing a piece of suitable land on which to build a church, the means, and the funds. It made for some lively conversation until Patience said, “We'll have to see what happens with all this. And now it's time for dessert.”