The Trouble with Patience by Maggie Brendan Page A

Hannah said. If Hannah thought she was attractive, could Jedediah think so too?

10

    Nodding at a few customers, Jedediah strode inside the general store looking for Benny Foster, the store owner. The man smiled when he saw him. “Be with you in a few minutes, Marshal,” he called with a little wave, turning back to the customer he was serving.
    Jedediah folded his arms and leaned against a big barrel by the front door. From where he stood he could see Patience hurrying up the walk, her head held high and her homespun bonnet shading most of her face. Quite a contrast from Millie’s fancy do and hat , he mused . He wondered if Patience had ever owned anything as . . . well, as nice. Probably not . He admired how determined she’d been the last few weeks—running the boardinghouse and sprucing it up, trying her best to make a go of it.
    His heart couldn’t help but soften as he thought about her. Where was her family? I’ll ask her to the dance, first chance I get. ’Course, Millie would be an easier one to ask, but he’d never felt his heart go all mushy over that one.
    â€œSorry to keep you waiting, Marshal,” Benny said at his side.
    â€œNo problem,” he said, pitching his voice low. “I want to ask you if you know anything about that new fella around town, Cody.”
    â€œCan’t say that I do. Seen him a couple o’ times, and noticed him painting Miss Patience’s boardinghouse. He’s friendly enough, but mostly keeps to himself, far as I can tell.” Benny rubbed his bearded jaw.
    â€œThat’s what the blacksmith told me. This Cody keeps his horse stabled there. No one seems to know where he came from.”
    â€œHe in some trouble?”
    â€œNot that I know of. Well, I best get out of your way so both of us can get back to work.” The two men grinned at each other, and Benny walked him to the door.
    â€œI’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Benny said as he held the door.
    Jedediah nodded. “Appreciate it.” He left, his mind toying with why Cody stayed in Nevada City. The man didn’t have a job, and no one seemed to know where he came from. Jed gave his head a shake. He’d just have to keep his eyes peeled for any signs of trouble in the making. He’d developed what he figured was sort of a sixth sense about people through years of law work, and something definitely rubbed him wrong about Cody . . . besides his flirting with Patience.

    While supper simmered on the stove, Patience slipped out to the front porch to her rocker, hoping for a cooling breeze. The kitchen was always warm, even with all the windows open. She unfastened the button at her throat and loosenedher collar, glancing over at Cody finishing up the last of the painting on the front railing.
    Soon she might have to hire someone else to help her with the workload, she concluded as she fanned her face with a discarded Montana Post . She now had eight residents, give or take one or more on any given week. There was room for only four more. Hmm. An idea for the help she needed popped into her mind. Cody isn’t going to want to change beds and do laundry, but maybe there is someone else . . .
    She fanned harder as she watched him work. “Cody, why don’t you take off that big neckerchief and loosen your shirt?” she suggested. “I don’t know how you stand the awful heat today.”
    â€œI’m used to it,” he told her. “The neckerchief catches the sweat. Besides, I’d feel funny without it.”
    Patience shook her head. “Whatever you say. I do like the fresh white paint on the railing. Everything looks so clean now. Thank you for all you’ve done. I do appreciate it.”
    â€œI have an idea for how you can thank me, Miss Patience,” he said, lifting a foot to the edge of the porch. “I’d like to take you to the dance Saturday night. What do you say?