Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series

by Cynthia Hickey

  Her hand flew to her throat. “Mr. Williams, you startled me.”

  “My apologies.” He removed his hat and worried the brim with his fingers. Women being the foreign creatures they were, he’d never had cause to propose before. Should he get down on one knee like in the books? No, this was a business proposition, nothing more. A way to save reputations and insure safety. He hoped. He must’ve stared because she crossed her arms and tilted her head.

  “What is it, Mr. Williams?”

  “Um.” He crumbled his hat. “I’m thinking we should get hitched.”

  “You think so?” Her eyes flashed lightening.

  Zeke swallowed against the mountain in his throat.

  3

  “Have you fallen in love with me, Mr. Williams? Is that why you wish to marry?” Delly’s blood turned to ice. She’d thought for sure Ezra’s brother would be a gentleman. Not someone interested in a body to warm his bed. “Has my beauty struck you dumb?”

  Zeke took a step back. “No, ma’am. I mean, it isn’t that you’re homely, far from it.” His face paled, and he took a deep breath. “Since we are traveling in such close proximity, I thought you’d want to marry to protect your reputation.”

  If not for her outrage, Delly would’ve laughed at the mortified expression on his face and the way he worried his hat. “My reputation is just fine, Mr. Williams. I believe the children are sufficient chaperonage. If it bothers you, stay away.”

  Her heart fell with a thud to her feet. It wasn’t that she wanted to marry the man. She hardly knew him. But once again someone wanted her for what she could do for them rather than for herself. He’d said to save her reputation, but she didn’t believe it for a moment. Years of riding the trail had left him lonely, plain and simple.

  She took a deep breath. “Thank you for the consideration, Mr. Williams.” She blinked away the gathering moisture in her eyes and climbed back into the wagon, the peace of the night shattered.

  If only she hadn’t promised Ezra to see the deed to his brother. If only there was somewhere for her to give the children a good life rather than take the difficult trail west, promises of a better life or not. She hung her shawl on a hook and crawled onto the small area of the mattress her sleeping children had left her.

  The oiled canvas overhead shut out all of the starlight. From the direction of the corral a cow mooed and a cowboy’s gentle lullaby hushed it. A peaceful place despite the many wagons, and yet as lonely as if Delly were the only person present. Tears welled and rolled down her face, soaking the flattened pillow beneath her head.

  She’d thought marriage to the charismatic Ezra would cure her own loneliness and give her a feeling of self-worth and love. Instead, she was worse off than ever. Sure, the children cared for her. But was that out of necessity or the lack of anyone else to tend their needs? Her heart clenched. She did love them so, from Ezra Junior, who so wanted to be a man, to tiny Sarah and her pudgy cheeks. Thank you, Lord that Zeke wasn’t married and thus want to claim the children as his own. The loss would crush her.

  Sarah snuffled and threw a chubby arm over her sister. Delly ran a finger over the soft skin of Sarah’s hand until the little one frowned and rolled over. What was she doing? Delly had no idea how to survive through Indian territory in a wagon.

  God and sheer determination would have to be enough.

  ###

  A loud voice jerked her awake. Delly blinked against the sleep in her eyes, grabbed her shawl, then parted the canvas of the wagon to peer out. Dawn peeked above the horizon, casting the morning in a rosy glow. Women crawled from tents and wagon beds to start breakfast.

  A red-faced man, and a woman about Delly’s size, with skin the color of creamed coffee, stood in the shadows of a nearby oak tree. A red scarf covered the woman’s hair. The brown dress she wore was only a shade darker than her skin.

  The man towered over the woman who stood with head bowed while he screamed at her. Delly strained to hear the woman’s quiet replies, and the inhabitants of nearby wagons stopped their morning preparations to stare.

  “Where’s your master, girl? We don’t take to runaways here.”

  “I’m freed, sir.” She flinched at the man’s raised fist and clutched a calico-wrapped parcel to her chest.

  “Ain’t no such thing. There ain’t nobody in Missouri gonna free the likes of you.”

  “I ain’t from Missouri. I have papers, too.” She reached inside her dress; her voice soft and lilting with a touch of drawl.

  “You ain’t nothing but a lying…” He struck her, landing a blow to the side of her face. She fell to the ground with a small cry and wrapped her arms around her head.

  Anger as hot as a smoldering fire welled in Delly. No man had the right to strike someone who is defenseless. Especially with such a size difference. Before it registered what she was doing, Delly scurried from the wagon and stood before the huge man, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

  She pulled her frame as tall as she could. “Who gave you the right to strike my servant? You step back this instant or I’ll have no choice but to call the sheriff. We haven’t started on the trail yet. All it’ll take is to send a rider back across the river.”

  Her knees shook beneath her nightgown, and her mouth filled with cotton. Could a simple mountain girl pull off such a daring stunt? Surely the man would see right through her drawl. She thanked God for the soft morning light and prayed it would hide the fear in her eyes and the trembling of her hands. She breathed through her mouth to block out the stench from the man’s unwashed body.

  “Yours?” He blinked down at her like an oversized owl. “If she’s yours, why is she running around at this hour? Besides, she told me she was freed.”

  “I said servant, not slave. Our business is ours alone, and since it is no longer dark, and my servant has returned, you have no complaint here. I will personally deal with her wandering off.” Delly stooped and helped the other woman to her feet then pulled her closer to the safety of the wagon. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long helping dear Mrs. Miller care for her cough.” The poor thing trembled against Delly with eyes as soft and wide as a doe, but Delly caught her nearly imperceptible nod. Good she understood.

  The man took a step in their direction.

  Delly stepped in front of the cowering woman and gritted her teeth. She lifted her chin and locked gazes with the stranger. “Are you going to strike me too? I may not be as easy to subdue.”

  The man laughed. Shivers skittered down Delly’s spine as he reached for her. “A little bitty thing like you wants to tussel with me? This ought to be fun.”

  ###

  “What’s going on here?” Zeke stepped from behind an oak tree. He’d heard the shouts during his morning rounds and it hadn’t taken him long to assess the situation. Delly, not reaching the man’s shoulder, stared down the stranger like a dog protecting its bone. The woman had grit, that was for sure.

  Zeke ran his gaze over her in the thin dressing gown and shawl, then glanced away and frowned. What was the woman thinking coming out dressed like that? The rising sun illuminated shapes better left covered in mixed company. Especially with men like the stranger roaming around the wagons. Not to mention the cattle drovers and other single men headed west with Zeke’s train.

  “Mr. Williams.” Delly’s cheeks sported bright spots of crimson. “This man struck this woman and knocked her to the ground. Her lip is bleeding, and I believe he’s threatened me.”

  “That right?” Zeke sauntered closer, keeping his hand poised over the gun at his hip. He stood a couple inches taller, but the other man outweighed him by twenty pounds or more. Although he didn’t cotton to fighting for the sport of it, Zeke wasn’t the type to back down when things warranted a punch being thrown. He released his pent up breath when Hiram, clutching his rifle, stepped from behind the wagon.

  “This is one of them runaway slaves.” The man thrust out his massive chest. “I aim to get one of them rewards.”

&nbs
p; Zeke glanced at Delly. She shook her head. Her eyes pleaded.

  He puffed out his cheeks then expelled a deep breath. What was he getting himself into? “Looks like you’re mistaken, mister. Seems to me this woman belongs here. What train are you traveling with?”

  “That ain’t none of your business. I’m with God-fearing folk, and we don’t hold to women wandering at night. Especially ones of color. They’re either a slave or a harlot. Makes me wonder about the other one too, coming out dressed like that.”

  Delly sucked in her breath with a hiss. Zeke held up a hand to motion her to remain quiet.

  “These women appear to be neither. Go on your way and there’ll be no harm done.” Zeke removed his hat and offered his hand. “We’re heading out today. I’ll watch over these two personally.”

  The stranger refused the hand and instead glared. “If you’re sure she ain’t no runaway.” He shook his head, and with one last glower at the women, turned back to town.

  “Thank you, Mr. Williams. My knees were shaking like wind-blown corn stalks.” Delly placed a hand against the wagon to steady herself. “I declare, I thought my heart would bust right out of my chest.”

  “Might as well call me Zeke since it appears I’m going to get you out of one scrape or another.” He slapped his hat on his head, then rubbed a hand over his chin. Drat the woman! “I don’t ever want to see you facing down a drunken man in nothing but your nightclothes. Not ever again. Is that understood?” It took all his willpower not to shake the little minx. “Walking around without the proper clothing is a distraction I don’t want the men on this train to have to deal with.” Or himself. The picture she made with tousled curls and eyes still droopy with sleep would be an invitation not all men would turn down.

  “Was he drunk? I didn’t notice. The unwashed smell was strong enough to hide anything else.” She smiled, a dimple winking in her cheek. “And, although I’m fully covered, I’ll not venture out of my tent or wagon in such attire again. You have my word.”

  “Perfect.” He sighed and turned to the stranger. “Are you a runaway?”

  The woman clutched her parcel to her chest. “No, sir. I’ve got my papers right here.” She pulled a folded slip of paper from her pocket. “My name is Sadie. My daddy was a poor white farmer, my momma a slave. Right before he died, he freed my momma and me. She died of a fever on the way to Independence.”

  Zeke read the paper before handing it back to her. “Why didn’t you show this to that man?”

  “I tried to. Don’t think he can read. Said it was just words on paper. Something I made up. I can read, though. I’m not a liar, sir.” Sadie bowed her head.

  “Look at me.” Zeke waited until her gaze met his. He didn’t cotton to men beating on women. He sighed. He couldn’t leave her here. “You’re a free woman with papers to prove it. Act like one and people will treat you like one.” Her eyes widened, and he turned back to Delly. “Can she ride with you? She might be a welcome help.”

  “Sure she can.” Delly grabbed her hand. “If she wants.”

  “I’d be right proud to help you.” Sadie tossed her parcel into the wagon. “My momma taught me some healing things, and I’m right handy when there’s a birthing.”

  God preserve them from a birthing. “I’m getting everyone ready to leave in an hour.” Although he swallowed hard against the topic of babies, Zeke’s mood lightened with the thought of another person to help Delly and the children. Plus, the new addition ought to put a stop to any gossip about improper chaperonage. “Today, Thursday, May fifth, is the day we start traveling, ladies, just in case you want to keep a journal. Lot’s of folks do.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, Mr., uh, Zeke.” Delly’s cheeks brightened again. “I will consider it. Thank you.”

  He knew she thanked him for more than the idea of journaling her travels. He tipped his hat. “Get the children up, feed ‘em, and tie down everything you can.” Good Lord, what am I thinking taking on another lost lamb?

  “You’re a mite touched in the head, ain’t you?” Hiram lowered his rifle. “Taking on another woman?”

  “I might be at that.”

  ###

  Delly rushed to the wagon and climbed up, calling over her shoulder. “I need to get dressed, Sadie. Would you mind fixing up some cornmeal mush if I hand down the ingredients?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She paused before swinging her leg over the wagon bed. “It’s Delly Williams. Not ma’am.” She couldn’t help the leap of joy in her heart. Just the night before she’d cried out to God in loneliness and now He’d sent her a friend. She quickly gathered cornmeal, lard, salt and raisins and handed them to Sadie. “We need enough for us two, three men, and five children.”

  “Five children!”

  Delly didn’t think it possible but Sadie’s eyes grew even wider. “Yep. Ranging in age from two to twelve.” She flashed a grin and withdrew, leaving the other woman to mutter to herself while fixing breakfast. “I’d best wake them.”

  She folded blankets and shook shoulders, all the while keeping an eye out for the guidebook. Where could Melvin had stashed it when he loaded their supplies? She wanted to make a habit of studying the pages since they were starting out.

  The children grumbled at being woken so early, but did as they were told. Delly let out a cry of delight when she came across a notepad and small bundle of pencils stored in the gift crate from the mercantile. And the promised guidebook. She flipped through the pages, before something else caught her eye.

  A corner of the deed stuck out from beneath the leather cover of her Bible, where she’d placed the night before after changing into her night clothes. She ought to give it to Zeke, but knowing the power that sheet of paper gave her, stayed her hand. No, she’d hold onto it until they reached Oregon and she stepped foot on Ezra’s, her, land.

  By the time she unburied her trunk, the children were dressed and outside waiting for nourishment. She dressed quickly and slipped the guidebook into her apron pocket.

  Sadie had everyone served by the time Delly joined them around the fire, and most were scraping the last of the food into their mouths while they stared at the dark-skinned stranger serving them.

  Delly smiled and accepted a tin plate of corn mush and a mug of coffee before settling on a three-legged stool. “This is Sadie, y’all. She’s going to share our wagon.” Five heads nodded as if used to Delly inviting folks to bed with them. By the time she finished eating, the oxen were harnessed and Sadie was cleaning up the dishes.

  The camp broke out in raucous conversation, shouts of greeting, and whistles. Junior jumped up to tie Mabel to the tail of the wagon, leaving the kid to follow, then dashed away. Dorcas shooed the other children inside the wagon, while Delly sat feeling as useless as a splinter. She knew things moved fast once it was time to go, but figured there’d be a horn or something to signal folks. A whistle split the air. A little late in coming. She crammed the last of her breakfast into her mouth and jumped to her feet.

  Zeke strolled by and tossed her a pair of leather gloves. “Hope you know how to drive a team. It’s either that or walk, and I could use the men somewhere else besides driving.”

  “Of course I know how to drive a team.” With a small farm wagon, of course, but she could learn.

  He smiled. “Don’t have the little ones ride in the wagon if we go over steep hills. Too many accidents happen that way. They can walk or ride your mule.”

  “Where’s Junior?”

  Zeke frowned. “I thought he was here.” He shook his head. “We need to be moving within five minutes. There’s another load of wagons getting ready to cross the river.”

  Delly glanced to the opposite bank that disappeared beneath a sea of rippling white canvas. “I’ll find him.” She couldn’t expect the others to wait because a twelve-year-old decided to wander off. The guidebook quoted several incidents of lost children, and she wouldn’t leave one of her own behind. Delly climbed to the wagon seat and stood so she
could see the area surrounding the wagons.

  Already the front of the line was pulling out of the circle. Within minutes it would be her turn. She donned the gloves which were a size too large then climbed into the driver’s seat.

  The oxen’s massive horns curled above their heads. Delly’s heart lodged in her throat. Would they follow her commands or be as ornery as Old Blue? Four cantankerous animals of their size would be a match for a man, let alone a woman. She glanced over as Junior trotted to the wagon with a bulge in his shirt and a blue-tick hound loping behind him.

  “Junior,” she warned. The question in his eyes tugged at her heart.

  “Please, Ma. Look how skinny she is. She’s been following me all morning.”

  “What’s in your shirt?”

  “A pup!” He pulled out a miniature replica of the dog at his heels.

  Delly shook her head, knowing what her answer would be before she spoke. She couldn’t deny the look of longing on her son’s face. If a couple of dogs brought him comfort in the wake of his pa’s death, then so be it. “They are your responsibility. Now, git. Your uncle was looking for you.” How was Zeke going to feel about two more strays?

  Sadie joined her on the seat. “How you plan on feeding them dogs, Miss Delly?”

  Delly shrugged. “No idea. I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. The mother can hunt for herself, I reckon. The pup can eat scraps.” The wagon in front of them pulled forward, and she gripped the reins. Here we go. Lord, be with us.

  4

  The wagons rolled westward across timbered land surrounded by seas of tall grass and wildflowers. Ruts dug deep in the ground from earlier travelers. As each wheel rumbled through a hole it produced a bone-jarring thud that vibrated along Delly’s spine. Sadie sat, silent beside her, hands folded in her lap.

  Delly arched her back and glanced at the azure sky where a hawk danced on a windy current. Between the oxen’s ears, the trail wound steadily westward, appearing to grow narrower until it disappeared over the horizon.