5

Patience was ready when Jedediah rapped on the door at sunrise. His posse was lined up in the street behind his horse, saddlebags and guns strapped on their mounts, hats slung low.

“Mornin’, ma’am,” Jedediah said when she opened the door. The mere bulk of him filled her small foyer as he stepped inside with a jingle of spurs. He made a formidable presence, outfitted as he was in a long black duster, a large bandana around his neck, his six-shooter strapped to his leg, and steely eyes observing her from beneath a brown leather hat. Sure wouldn’t want to tangle with him if I got on the wrong side of the law, she thought. However, thinking about their earlier sparring made her heart beat faster. Had he held her gaze a little longer than necessary just now . . . or not?

“Morning,” she said, attempting to match his laconic tone. “The boxes are right here on the hall table,” she told him. “I’ll help you carry them out.” But as she reached for them, his leather-gloved hand covered hers. “No need.” He turned in the doorway to the men. “Monty,” he called, “lend a hand.”

She recalled the cowboy named Monty from the day Jedediah had arrested the attempted saddle thief. In a swift minute or two, they’d handed the boxes up to each rider. A couple tipped their hats to her.

“Much obliged, Miss Patience. Smells mighty good. Be seeing you before too long.” Jedediah joined his waiting men, said something she couldn’t hear, then mounted his horse. He thumbed a signal to his posse, leading them in a trot down the street toward the foothills. Just then the morning sun broke across the purple mountaintop, sending shafts of light through the trees.

Patience shivered and hurried back inside, deciding to have her coffee before the boarders came down. She’d make a double batch of biscuits and fry up some potatoes and eggs in a bit. But since she was up a little earlier than normal, she made a list of pressing items around the boardinghouse that needed attention. Staring down at her ledger and the total at the bottom of the page, it was obvious that the needs outweighed her meager income. She chewed on her bottom lip and closed her eyes, as if she expected an answer to suddenly appear in a vision.

Sometimes she felt like giving up and going back home, but the thought of living with her overbearing mother quickly redirected her intent. The miners who boarded seemed to come and go as fast as an apple pie at a church picnic—whether off to work at the next strike on a nearby mine, or moving on to a new town with the hope of becoming rich. Still, she was grateful for the boarders she had. If she only had one more, she might have enough income to hire someone to put a fresh coat of paint on the weather-worn front facade. The pantry was getting low on staples, but the money she’d be receiving from the marshal would help pay for additional groceries needed near week’s end.

She closed the ledger and decided to see about paint and supplies first thing tomorrow. A fresh coat would brighten the outside and might bring in business. Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Hearing movement overhead meant it was time to start breakfast. She hurried off to the kitchen.

“All right, men,” Jed said, pulling his horse up after nearly a four-hour ride. “Let’s take a rest here, have our lunch.” The sloped meadow and outcropping of trees offered a respite from the trail. The sun was high in the sky now, the time well past noon.

“Be glad to.” Monty sighed, sliding off his horse. “My stomach is eating my backbone. Sure smells divine, doesn’t it?” The rest of the posse mumbled their agreement, taking only moments to find a seat on the grass before attacking the food Patience had prepared.

Kit devoured the fried chicken, licked his fingers clean, and exclaimed, “Why, the woman even tucked a miniature apple pie in mine!” He was the youngest of the group, still wet behind the ears, but Jed had agreed to let him come along.

A ripple of snorts and guffaws pealed out from the group. “Don’t feel too special.” Monty chortled from his place against a tree trunk. “We all have one in our box. Now if we just had a cup of fresh brewed coffee to go with dessert.”

“I’ll second that,” Brady, sitting cross-legged on the ground, said in his Irish brogue between mouthfuls.

“Say, Jed.” Bob, a scrawny old horse breeder, turned toward the marshal. “Ever think about those times we had a few years back, hanging those road agents?”

Jed slanted a look at Bob, feeling the pie turn sour in his stomach. “Not lately,” he muttered. “It’s best not to dwell on the past—can’t change things.” The words sounded good, but they didn’t change his lie into truth.

Quiet settled over the group until James, a wiry, short fella and the more outspoken one of the men, said, “Well, if it hadn’t been for you and the Montana vigilantes, those agents would’ve continued robbing and stealing the countryside bare.”

Kit choked on his pie and coughed until James thumped him on the back. “You mean you wuz one of them vigilantes?” Kit said around another cough. “I didn’t know that—why, you’re a living legend! No one ever told me!” The young man was wide-eyed with amazement.

Jed clenched his jaw, not wanting this impressionable kid to put him on a pedestal where he certainly didn’t belong. Even though he hadn’t been here that long, most of the men already knew he never wanted to talk about those days. “Haven’t missed much, Kit,” he said, avoiding the boy’s appraisal.

“Wonder what ever happened to Ned?” Bob continued.

Monty grunted. “I heard tell he took off for Kansas. Said he’d had enough of Montana.”

Jed abruptly stood, wadding the sandwich paper into a ball, ignoring their stares. “Enough lollygagging. Let’s get back on the trail. If we don’t find what we’re looking for, we’ll head back to town before dusk.”

Late-afternoon sun danced across the worn porch, its nails pushing upward from the boards as Patience swept. She leaned her broom against the unstable railing, shielding her eyes from the setting sun to glance down the dusty road. But there was no sign of Jedediah and his posse. Was that a good sign or bad? She didn’t know, but she hoped everything had turned out all right. She couldn’t stay out here sweeping much longer.