He shook his head, glancing at their piled cart. “It’s too dangerous for a woman and children without a man. When others pay for me to take them, I have no choice but to do so. You have no wagon and not enough provisions. The list goes on.”
“I’m a man, Uncle Zeke.” Junior glared up at him. “Or close enough to it. Besides, we’re family.”
Delly squared her shoulders and stood as tall as her petite frame would allow. “We have you, and you, Mr. Williams, seem to be stuck with us.”
She studied the tall man. Dripping hair just brushed his shoulder. Hazel eyes that changed with the light and his emotions. A cleft in a strong chin. Handsome, better looking than Ezra. If only he looked less dismayed at the thought of them following him. “Ezra sent us to you. He said you’d look out for us.”
“This is plumb loco.” He slapped his hat against his thigh. Marching a few feet farther away, he growled, then turned to stare at Delly and the children. Tension lines radiated from his mouth. He sighed, obviously resigned. “You’re right. I can’t leave family. Follow me.”
He marched toward the cluster of wagons. “Bring the mule, that noisy goat, and the hand cart, too.”
Delly grinned at Junior and hefted the handles of the cart.
“I knew he couldn’t leave us, Ma. Uncle Zeke’s one of the toughest, but nicest men out there.” Junior grabbed the reins to Old Blue. “Maybe he’ll let me work with the oxen. Do you think?”
“I don’t know, Junior. First thing is to get you into dry clothes and food in your belly.”
“Aw shucks. I’m almost dry, but I am mighty hungry. Almost drowning is hard work.” He bounced Sarah on his hip. “Hope Uncle Zeke’s got a wagon for us to use. I don’t cotton to carrying a baby all the way to Oregon.”
Delly reached over and ruffled his hair. “Neither do I or Old Blue, but with God’s help, we’ll do what we have to.”
Delly and the children followed Zeke through a crowd of wagons. The scent of frying bacon and brewing coffee filled the air along with the lowing of oxen and the bray of a mule. Tall grass tickled Delly’s feet and calves. A butterfly fluttered around the hem of her dress. If Oregon was anything like this, Delly would be a happy woman. Surely, the stories Ezra had told were the truth. Oregon was a land of milk, honey, and the fulfillment of dreams.
Several women glanced up from their cook fires. Some smiled shyly while others stared with open interest. One blonde shot daggers from icy blue eyes. Despite her sore hands, Delly tried to appear pleasant. After all, she’d spend a lot of time with these fellow travelers.
Zeke led them to a wagon. A grizzled man hunched on a three-legged stool and whittled a piece of wood into a sharp point. His gaze scanned Delly and the children, then slid to Zeke. “Boss?”
“Clear them a spot in the smaller wagon, Melvin, then take care of the mule. This is my brother’s widow and young’uns. Seems they’re going to Oregon with us.”
Delly let go of the hand cart. “We can pack away our own things. We don’t want to be a bother.”
Melvin jumped to his feet, knocking over his seat. “No bother atall, Mrs. Williams.”
Rolling her eyes, Delly forced a smile. If the rapturous look on the man’s face was any indication, he was already smitten with her, and her husband’s body barely cold. She’d married for security, and lost that very thing within a matter of days. Now, it was up to her to provide that same security for her stepchildren. She couldn’t rely on someone else. She’d have to find a gentle way to let him know she wasn’t interested. Caring for the children and getting to Oregon were her only concerns. Nothing could deter her from that goal. “Thank you, sir.”
“Close your mouth, Melvin.” Zeke clapped him on the shoulder. “A fly might get in.” He turned to Delly. “You’ve been through enough today. Let Mel help. And I’m sorry, but the hand cart will have to stay. We’ve no way to transport it and don’t need the extra weight.” With long strides, he headed toward the opposite side of the wagon circle. With each step, his shoulders seemed to sag more.
With a smile at Delly, Melvin followed after his boss.
Delly collapsed against the cart. Silly girl. It was only planks of wood and two wheels, but the cart was one of the remaining remnants of home. She felt sick leaving it behind, but saw the wisdom in the wagon master’s decision.
Her gaze shifted to him again. Was it grief over his brother’s death that dragged him down—or the fact he got saddled with Delly and the children? If it were the later, he’d be no cause for concern. She’d manage. She only needed him for protection and guidance. The rest was on her shoulders.
Which contrasted sharply with everything she’d ever been taught. The head mistress of the orphanage drilled into the girls’ heads that men had the ultimate last word and authority over women. Even more so if they were married. Ezra gave Delly a request. As his wife, didn’t that mean she needed to satisfy that request if at all possible? Did Zeke as wagon master overrule the demands of Delly’s dead husband? Her head hurt with all the questions.
Zeke hadn’t asked about the deed. She watched his broad back as he stopped beside the animals gathered in the middle of the wagon circle. Should she tell him Ezra gave it to her? She fingered the buttons of her white bodice. Maybe she’d wait and see whether he broached the subject.
The scent of cook fires continued to tempt Delly’s stomach. What could she fix the children to give them full bellies? With her meager supplies, there wouldn’t be much. What was she thinking, traveling to Oregon with what she could fit in a hand cart? She mentally checked off their provisions. Maybe she could trade services for supplies, at least until they reached Fort Laramie where she’d spend the last of Ezra’s coins.
“Delicious.” Zeke approached with long strides, his shadow stretching across the ground. “Feel free to use any supplies you may need.”
“It’s Delly, and I’ve brought a few things.” Her name might be unique, but she’d never cared for her mother’s strange choice of name.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking forward to a good cooked meal and not the slop Hiram, my guide, or Melvin serve. In exchange for meals and laundry, you have the use of the wagon and any supplies. I noticed you brought a tent so sleeping accommodations are taken care of.”
“Yes.” Although it would be a tight fit. “Could the older two bunk in the wagon? Or the girls in the wagon and the boys in the tent?”
“Whatever you prefer.” Zeke glanced around them, his gaze lighting on Junior. “My nephew can be used tending livestock, since you’ve contributed one mule and a goat.” He grinned, revealing a dimple. Delly’s breath hitched. “Maybe you can do some rearranging and fit all of you inside, including Daniel.” He nodded toward a ring of rocks. “Best light the fire for our dinner. We leave shortly after daybreak.” He tipped his hat, motioned for Junior to follow him, and ate up the distance back to the corral with his long stride.
Bunching her skirt in one hand, Delly climbed into the first wagon and stopped at the sight of wooden crates and sacks stacked clear to the top of the canvas. Thank you, Lord. Zeke had labeled the crates with their contents. His supplies looked like more than three men could possibly need. Had he expected them? Had Ezra planned on taking them to Oregon all along? She wracked her mind for clues and slumped against a stack of flour bags.
Ezra had sold off the milk cow and chickens. Said they’d need the money but hadn’t said for what. He’d built the hand cart. She slapped her palm against her forehead. How stupid could she have been? Well, no sense dwelling on the past. She was here now.
She grabbed flour, coffee, and bacon. Tomorrow, if they stopped in time, she’d fix beans and corn pone. She climbed out and glanced toward the larger wagon where the children played, drawing pictures in the dirt. Melvin rolled their cart toward the smaller wagon.
When he offered to help, she waved him away. It wouldn’t do to get used to someone helping her do something she’d be doing three times a day. She set the supplies next to t
he fire ring, and then coaxed a flame to life. She set water to boil and biscuits to bake before examining the second, smaller wagon.
Besides her trunk and the family’s bedding and clothes, it contained a tightly rolled corn husk mattress, another larger chest, a rocking chair, and crates of ammunition. Delly smiled and scooted things closer together before reaching for the mattress. Unfurled, it filled the floor space, providing room for her and the children to stretch out sideways. Sleeping off the ground was a blessing Delly didn’t expect and one she intended to enjoy to its fullness.
“Good evening!”
Delly poked her head through the slit in the canvas. A pretty blonde woman, the same woman who glared at her earlier, stood with a toddler on her hip and swayed from side-to-side.
“Hello.”
“I’m Sophia Miller.” The willowy woman thrust out a hand. “This is Josiah. My father is Mr. Oglesby. I’ve two scoundrel brothers Joseph and Samuel.”
“I’m Delly Williams.” Delly climbed down. “Zeke’s widowed sister-in-law.”
“I’m a widow, also.” Relief washed over the woman’s face. “Thought you were his wife for a moment. You seem awfully young to have a passel of children, though.”
Delly laughed. “Stepchildren.” She moved the biscuits farther from the fire and laid bacon in a cast iron skillet. Cooking over an open fire on the plain would require some trial and error. “And there are a lot of them. While on his deathbed, my husband requested I hunt up his brother, and here we are.” Strips of bacon sizzled in a hot iron skillet.
“I could introduce you to the rest of the folks, if you’ve a mind to get acquainted.” Sophia set Josiah down and handed him a piece of hardtack from her apron pocket. “I only know a few so far, though. There’s a young couple, the Sorenson’s who’ve got a newborn little girl. Josiah, get away from the fire! Oh, the boy will be the death of me. Plus, there’s other families, some around our age, several older.”
“How long have you been a widow?” Delly poured boiling water over the coffee grounds.
“About a year.” She sighed. “It was real hard until Pa came to St. Louis and fetched me to head west. I wasn’t taken with the idea, but hated being alone even more. You?”
“Less than two days.” Delly blinked against the burning in her eyes. “And married a week, although Ezra courted me for a couple of months.” And kept his love of cards from her. She knelt in the dirt and poured coffee into mugs. If only a cup of coffee could soothe her hurts. Make her feel loved. Give her the strength and wisdom to take five children across half a continent to a strange place.
Help her discover where she fit in the world.
Sophia gasped and clutched a hand at her throat. “You poor thing. Did you love him dearly?”
Delly expelled her breath roughly. “As well as most, I suppose. We didn’t know each other well.” She lifted the lid on the Dutch oven to check the biscuits.
The other woman stood and grasped Josiah’s hand. “It was nice meeting you. Pa most likely has supper done so I’d best get back.” She chuckled. “I never took much to cooking.” With a swish of her skirt to avoid the fire, Sophia pranced back to her wagon.
Delly shook her head. How could the girl not know how to cook having been married and all? She stood and searched the area for her family. The three girls had switched to playing with rag dolls under the larger wagon, while Daniel made faces at the baby. “Dorcas, run and fetch the menfolk, would you?”
By the time the bacon was fried crisp and the biscuits brown and flaky, Zeke and his hired hands sat across the fire from Delly and the children. All three of the men, dug into the food heaped on their plates like they hadn’t eaten in days. Junior rattled on and on about the day’s exciting events, hardly stopping long enough to partake of the meager meal. It wasn’t much, but Delly would do better tomorrow. Not for a moment would she give Zeke a reason to doubt his decision to allow them to head west with him.
She watched him from the corner of her eye. The fire cast shadows on his strong chin and jaw. Now that his hair dried, she could tell it was dark blond and, even tied back from his face, brushed the collar of his chambray shirt. A rough looking man chiseled by God’s own hammer, appearing all the world like Delly always imagined Adam to have looked.
A toddler let out a cry from across the way. Delly glanced over to see Sophia scoop up her son. Zeke didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder. Delly sipped her coffee. Maybe she’d misunderstood the relieved look on the young woman’s face. But she would’ve testified that the woman released a pent up breath at knowing Delly wasn’t Zeke’s wife. From what Delly could tell, Zeke didn’t share the admiration. A smitten man would’ve cast a look back, right?
###
It took all Zeke’s control not to squirm under the studious gaze of his sister-in-law. What could she possibly have to dwell on for so long? He’d washed his face and combed his hair before coming to supper. Even took time to swipe the trail dust from his clothes. The children ate like silent ghosts, their gaze never leaving his face. It made his flesh crawl to be watched like a bug under glass.
Hiram and Melvin must’ve felt the same way because they ate faster than starving men and rushed back to tend the corral animals. Zeke had no idea how to talk to a woman and children. Nor was there time to process the news of Ezra’s death. Something he sorely needed to do. Maybe tonight while he bedded down under the main wagon he could put his thoughts in some sort of order.
Zeke met Delly’s gaze across the fire and heat stronger than any flame shot through him. He could see how his brother fell for the woman, but she barely looked out of short dresses herself!
“Children, help me put these things away and then prepare for bed.” With the gracefulness of a swan, Delly stood and reached for the Dutch oven.
Fatigue lined her face, yet not once did she ask him for help. Did he frighten her? Repulse her? He shrugged. Why should he care? Today was not the day to become infatuated. Nor anytime soon. After he settled in his verdant valley, then he would have the luxury of pondering marriage.
“Are you sure about this, Delicious? The trail ahead is difficult at the best of times.”
She stiffened. “I’m an orphan and a widow, Mr. Williams. There is nothing left for me in Missouri.” Although her voice was soft, her words were like a rod of steel. Only a fool wouldn’t know to step away. With a swish of her skirts, she climbed into the wagon.
Zeke prayed his new responsibilities would survive the arduous journey. He couldn’t take losing another family member on the trail. Not after losing Becky and the baby. After tossing the dregs of his coffee into the sputtering fire, he stood and stretched the kinks out of his back as Junior grabbed a bedroll and dashed toward the corral. Zeke shot out a hand to stop him.
“Not so fast, pardner. You’ll sleep under the wagon with me.”
“But you said I could help with the livestock!”
“I did.” Zeke nodded. “But you’ll be with me, and it isn’t our watch yet.”
Junior huffed and switched directions. “Where are we bunking down?”
“Under the big wagon unless you want to listen to the others moving over your head all night.”
“No, sir! Dorcas talks in her sleep.”
Zeke put an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’d like to talk to you a bit, Ezra, man-to-man if you’ve a mind to answer some of my questions.”
“Sure, Uncle Zeke.” Junior tossed his roll beside the wagon wheel and perched on a boulder.
Zeke pulled up a stool. “Tell me how your pa died and how he got hooked up with Delicious.”
“She wants to be called Delly,” Junior chuckled. “Said her mother couldn’t possibly have been in her right mind to give her a name like Delicious. She’s a good ma. Pa said she looked like an angel when he saw her crossing the street in a pink calico dress. They courted for a few weeks. Ma got booted out of the orphanage when she turned eighteen, escorted a family to Missouri where she met and married Pa. I thin
k he loved her more than she loved him. At least he said it often enough, but she cares for the little ones.” He stared toward the other wagon. “She’s awful quiet, unless you get her riled, then boy howdy, a man can’t win.
“Pa said she had the bite of a grizzly bear and the touch of a butterfly.” He shrugged. “Not sure what the purty words mean, but Ma turned pink when he said ‘em.”
Zeke laughed, wondering how long it would take the mite of a woman to get mad at him. He seemed to have that kind of way with women. If she were as feisty as Junior made her sound, maybe she’d make it across the prairie after all. He pulled out his knife and picked at the splinter in his palm.
“Pa gambled a lot, though.” Junior choked on his words. “Went to the saloon the morning after getting hitched, cheated at cards, and got shot. Ma tended him the best she could, but he died anyway.” He sniffed and made his way to his bedroll.
Zeke let his hands dangle between his legs and hung his head. “Go to sleep, Junior. I’ll be over in a bit.” Knowing his brother died was hard enough, but knowing he died a painful, lingering death was almost torture. There hadn’t been time to enjoy his new bride. Now, the girl was left with five children and no means to support them. Zeke sighed. He had a hard decision to make. His head told him to marry Delly and give her the security of a husband. His heart told him he didn’t want to marry ever again.
The wagon creaked and the object of his thoughts climbed from the wagon bed, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She lifted her face to the sky. A slight breeze ruffled the hair fluttering loose from its bun, highlighting the strands with silver. Moonlight cast a heavenly glow, leaving Zeke feeling as if he dreamed. She looked every inch the angel Ezra had thought her to be.
He pushed to his feet and approached with slow steps lest she disappear like a vision. “Delly?”
Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series Page 2
