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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Delly collapsed, shivering, to the ground and laid her head on her knees. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life. These skirts are a nuisance. Not only did we have a falling bridge to worry about, but I almost landed in the river head first when I got caught on a nail.”

  “We’ll have to think of something.” Zeke squeezed her shoulder. “Go get a fire started so Junior can dry off. I’m going to check on the Johnsons. At the very least, we’ll have to change a wheel.” He took a few steps before turning back. “When I give a direct order, I expect it to be followed.”

  “I wasn’t going to leave the children.” Delly planted her fists on her hips. “No matter what bossy man told me to.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of knowing what’s best for my nieces and nephews.” His back stiffened.

  “And as their mother, I know best.” She lifted her chin. “They were left in my care. Mine. I will make the decisions regarding them.”

  He stepped closer. “I’m the wagon master. My orders are for everyone here. Mind that you remember that.” He stormed away.

  After a sleepless night spent dwelling on a stubborn man, Delly stared into her open trunk. No more skirts and petticoats for her. Yesterday’s scare had taken years off her life. She pulled out a pair of Junior’s britches. With a grin, she yanked off her petticoat, donned the male pants and slipped into a flannel shirt. The freedom! Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She tied the pants tight with a piece of rope and belted the shirt around her waist.

  The scent of frying bacon drifted through the wagon’s bonnet. Delly took a deep breath and jumped to the ground.

  Zeke paused in sipping his coffee. “What are you wearing?”

  She straightened her shoulders. “A pair of Junior’s pants.” She rolled up the legs to the top of her moccasins. “You told me to think of something. I did.”

  “Take them off. You aren’t running around dressed like that.” Zeke scowled. “People can see your…well…your shape. It’s not seemly.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “Yesterday, I almost killed myself falling from the wagon. All on account of feminine silliness. This is more practical and a lot more comfortable. I may never wear a dress again.” She glared at him. “It’s either these, or my bloomers. And they have a hole in the leg.”

  “You will not run around in your undergarments.” His face darkened.

  “I’ll do what’s necessary, and first chance I get, I’ll modify the girls’s dresses into split skirts for them.”

  “Over my dead body!” His eyes flashed beneath his hat. “I demand you change back into a dress.”

  She marched to the fire and poured a mug of coffee. Blowing into the fragrant brew to cool it, she avoided his eyes. Demanded, did he? She’d see about that. Let’s see how he handled a woman with a mind of her own.

  Sadie disappeared into the wagon. Several minutes later she reappeared dressed in an outfit more ridiculous than Delly’s. Junior’s clothes hung on her like a scarecrow’s garment. When Dorcas reached between her legs and pulled her skirt through to tuck into her waistband, showing the ruffled edges of her bloomers and pale legs, Zeke’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped.

  “What?” Dorcas straightened. “This will do until I can ask Alice for a pair of Seth’s old pants. If Ma can wear ‘em, I can too.”

  Delly choked on her coffee, spewing it into the dirt, and glanced at Zeke. All seriousness had fled. His lips twitched then he exploded in laughter.

  Once he’d caught his breath, he shook his head. “My pa once told me there was no understanding women. I’ve seen it all now. Wait until Luke gets a hold of his bride.”

  Still shaking his head, he stalked away, muttering. When Junior paused to take in the hysterics of those around the fire, Zeke held up a hand. “Don’t ask. Just keep walking.”

  It wasn’t that funny. And what was to understand? Safety before convention Delly believed. Relieved the minor disagreement with Zeke was over, she set her coffee on the ground and reached for breakfast. The men would soon see the sense in the women’s new clothes and that would be the end of it.

  The call to move out rang through the camp, spurring them to action. Movement in pants allowed a quicker cleanup, and Delly climbed onto the wagon seat with a lighter heart.

  They traveled up the Sweetwater Valley and the weather turned noticeably cooler. One of the mountains to the side of them wore a bonnet of snow. No wood or grass could be found beside the river, but the water ran clear and slow. When they stopped for the night, the men swam the stock across to feed where the grass was more plentiful.

  With the fall of dusk, Delly’s good mood vanished. She slapped her neck. “I don’t know what’s worse. The dust or these mosquitoes.”

  Sadie strolled past with an armload of dirty laundry. “I’ll take the dust. It doesn’t try to eat you.”

  Delly joined her on the river bank and grabbed one of Zeke’s shirts. “I’ll be drained of blood by the time we move on.”

  “Mind if I join you?” Alice squatted next to them with her own basket of laundry.

  Delly smiled. “I’d like nothing more.” She eyed the woman’s protruding stomach. “How are you feeling?”

  “Little Ben is pretty active.” Alice stood and arched her back. “I was a little worried over the excitement of crossing that bridge back there, but everything seems to be fine. I’m glad to have you on this trail, Sadie, when my time comes.”

  Sadie nodded. “Is your cow still giving milk?”

  “Some. I drink a little every day, like you said. It’s hard though, when my children need it more.”

  Sadie scrubbed the last pair of pants. “It’s that baby inside of you that needs the milk. You keep drinking it. Same thing I tell Delly, here.” She tossed the washed pants into a basket. “And mind that you do as I say. You’re looking peaked.” She lifted the basket and strolled back to the wagon.

  Alice turned and watched her leave. “She’s a bossy little thing, ain’t she? You in a family way?”

  Delly nodded. “She can be, but I’ve found she’s usually right. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s been so much help. Please, don’t tell anyone of my condition. I’d like to hide it until we get to Oregon if I can. My hands are already so full, not to mention how Mr. Williams will blow his lid when he finds out.”

  Alice nodded and plunged a shirt into the water. “I know it ain’t none of my business, but my Ben says he sees your oldest gambling a lot. It ain’t fittin for a boy his age.”

  “I was afraid he was still doing that.” She paused in helping Alice. “But I don’t know what to do. He’s making money, and seems like he’s going to do what he wants. I’ll have to leave him to God to convict of the wrongness of gambling.”

  “Well, people are also talking about you and Sadie wearing men’s britches. Little Dorcas too.” She rose and picked up her laundry. “Said it ain’t lady like. Or civilized.”

  “Let me carry that for you.” Delly took the basket. “Let people talk. This is more comfortable and a lot safer.”

  Alice fell into step beside her. “Ben would throw a fit if I were to do the same.”

  “I’ll wear a skirt on Sundays, when we stop for our day of rest.” She set the basket next to the Johnson wagon. “I’m not worried about what others might think. This trail is hard and has enough trials of its own without me worrying over every little thing.” She gave her friend a quick hug.

  “But now Abby wants a pair.” Alice frowned. “I caught her with one of Seth’s yesterday. I thought Ben would have a fit of apoplexy.”

  Delly laughed. “Let her wear them. It’s only for a couple more months. There’s plenty of time for them to be girls when we settle.”

  20

  Zeke shattered the ice on the water bucket so Delly could make coffee, avoiding her gaze. His heavy handed attitude from the day before embarrassed him, but the woman needed to learn to follow orders. He couldn’t watch her every second of every day. There were o
thers he was responsible for.

  Movement to the west caught his attention. A small band of Indians rode by, wrapped in skins against the frigid morning. He nodded a greeting. They glanced expressionless toward the white people who emerged from their beds, and continued past. The ten braves were accompanied by two squaws who pulled a litter piled high with furs.

  Delly stepped close to his side. “Are they dangerous?”

  He shrugged. “Seem peaceable enough, but I didn’t see or hear them until they were on top of us.” Might have something to do with the train his thoughts took, but he’d take an arrow to the leg before admitting to Delly how often she entered his mind.

  He glanced around for Hiram. The scout should’ve noticed the group approaching.

  “Maybe they want to trade.”

  “Doesn’t appear so. They almost rode by like we weren’t here.” He frowned. “I think we should pull out. They didn’t seem aggressive, but not friendly either.”

  “You do think they’ll be trouble, don’t you?”

  “Anyone can be if they’re hungry enough.” He patted her shoulder then lifted his saddle to the back of the horse. “Get a quick breakfast together. I’m going to ride around the circle and let the others know.”

  They made eighteen miles that day and camped a short distance from Pacific Springs. As Zeke informed everyone to water the stock and refill water barrels, he turned to head back to his wagon. Several braves watched from the bushes. Zeke quickened his step and rounded the wagon to the sight of Delly slipping the rifle from under the wagon seat.

  “Put it down.” He took the rifle from her. “Don’t show signs of aggression.”

  “But…”

  Three of the braves came forward. One held his hand out. “Hungry.” He pointed toward the barrels of food seen through the wagon’s bonnet. He said something else and waved a squaw forward. Her arms were loaded with furs. “Trade.”

  The woman laid the furs at Zeke’s feet and scuttled back. The Indians muttered among themselves when Luke appeared.

  “I don’t think they’ve ever seen a black man before.” Zeke held up a hand to stop Luke. “Delly, pack them some food.”

  “I’ll stay back here. Sadie, come by me.” Luke drew his wife into the crook of his arm.

  At the sight of Sadie, the Indians began speaking rapidly to each other. The one Zeke dubbed the leader marched to Luke, touched him on the forehead, then turned to say something to his comrades. The rest moved forward and stopped in front of Luke and Sadie, touching their skin and grabbing at their hair.

  “Ouch!” Sadie slapped the squaw’s hand who tried taking some of her hair. The bun she wore came loose and ebony curls fell around her shoulders. “Luke, do something. They’re going to scalp me bald.”

  He pushed Sadie behind him at the same time Zeke stepped forward. “Stop.” He leaned the rifle against the wagon and stepped between the Indians and the others before motioning toward the box she’d packed. “Take the food and go.”

  The group stared at the gun, back to Luke and Sadie, then lifted the box and melted back into the brush. Zeke rolled his shoulders to release the tension and turned to Hiram who sprinted to his side. “A group of us stayed right out of sight in case you needed us.”

  “I appreciate that, but it’s over now.” Zeke replaced the rifle beneath the wagon seat. “They’re just hungry.”

  “Hungry, my foot.” Sadie crossed her arms. “They almost pulled my hair out.”

  “At least they didn’t ask you to cut off your hair.” Delly scowled.

  Zeke laughed. “They were just curious. They didn’t mean you any harm.” He hoped, glancing toward the trees. “I thought about sending men to hunt, but I think I’ll wait until tomorrow.” Harmless or not, the Indian’s behavior left him uneasy. Hunger did strange things to people, and those Indians appeared hungry and downtrodden.

  ###

  The next morning, Delly stepped to the breakfast fire where Zeke nursed a cup of coffee. “Junior said some of the stock is missing. Our goat and kid too. The children couldn’t bear to lose them after Old Blue.” She glanced around the circle. “Do you think those Indians took them?”

  He tossed his coffee grounds into the dirt. “That’s my guess. Luke, me, and some of the others are going out to look for them.” He untied his horse from the back of the wagon. “I’ve asked Junior to stay behind with you. If the Indians took the stock, they won’t have gotten very far.” He mounted Cyclone.

  Delly turned to Sadie. “Now’s a good time to catch up our mending. Junior, why don’t you check over the harnesses. Dorcas, get your primer and read to us.” She glanced in the direction the men had gone. “If we stay busy, the time will pass faster, and Lord knows, there’s no end to work to be done.”

  “I’d rather look for the goats,” Junior stated. “And I ain’t seen the dogs all morning.” His chin quivered. “The only thing I got to claim as mine is those dogs.”

  He tried so hard to be a pain, but once in a while the little boy came through, and Delly couldn’t resist that. “I bet the Indians lured them off so they could steal from us.” She marched to where the rifle sat propped against the wagon. Those mutts meant a lot to her son. She wouldn’t let them be taken along with everything else.

  Besides, this would give her and Junior a chance to talk about his gambling without anyone around. They’d only be gone a short time. “Come on. We’re going to find them.”

  “Are you sure?” Sadie frowned. “Mr. Williams said to stay put.”

  “We’ll be fine. I’ve got this rifle, and Junior has his. We’ll be back before the men return.” Delly hitched up her pants, propped the rifle over her shoulder, then led the way into the woods bordering the trail. Zeke would have a fit at her disobeying orders again, but she hadn’t missed the sheen of tears in Junior’s eyes as he spoke about the dogs.

  Pine trees stretched above them, blocking out the morning sun. “Will you be able to find our way back, son? How do you know they came this way?”

  He pointed to some dung and whistled for his pets. Not receiving an answering bark, he headed forward. “I know the way back. Do you think they could have circled back to water?”

  Delly trudged along behind him. “I don’t see why. We give them water every night.”

  Damp leaves muffled their steps. After an hour, she sat on a fallen log, laid her rifle at her feet, and glanced around her. Her stomach rumbled. Not expecting to be gone so long, she hadn’t thought to bring food or drink. If Zeke made it back before them, he was going to be furious.

  An occasional bird warbled from the trees. Delly took a deep breath of cold air, letting the crispness bite the lining of her lungs. Junior slumped on a stump across from her, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “It’s no use. The dogs are gone. Same as Mabel and the kid.” His chin quivered. “The little ones are going to be sad.”

  “So will we.” She started to rise, and froze. Cold perspiration stuck her shirt to her back. Her palms sweated and acid rose in her throat. She should’ve listened to Zeke and stayed in camp. “Junior, don’t move. Stay perfectly still.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a bear behind you.” Delly moved in slow motion and stooped to retrieve her rifle.

  “A bear!” He leaped to his feet and whirled.

  The animal rose on its hind legs and roared. His huge paws raked at the air. Junior darted to Delly’s side.

  “I told you to stay still.” Her arms trembled as she raised the rifle. God, help us.

  The bear fell back on all four legs. It huffed and slapped against the ground. Delly’s breath stuck in her throat.

  “Back up real slow. Don’t startle it or make it mad.”

  “I’m scared, Ma.” He raised his rifle.

  “So am I.” Her heart pounded and drowned out the forest sounds. Together, they backed away, pausing with each step. Delly struggled to force herself to take small, quiet breaths.

  Junior stepped on a dry twig.
The sound snapped through the woods as loud as a gunshot. They froze.

  The bear roared, and charged.

  Delly shoved the boy out of the way and squeezed the trigger. The gun’s recoil knocked her to the ground and she dropped the weapon. She whimpered and scrambled through the leaves until she clutched it in her fist. She crawled frantically toward the thick underbrush. God, help us! She glanced over her shoulder. The bear swung its massive head toward her. She leaped to her feet, and ran.

  The animal thudded the ground behind her, quickly gaining ground. A fallen tree blocked Delly’s path. She tried scaling it and fell when her foot caught on a branch. The bear swiped at her, raking her shoulder. Fire burned through her.

  She dropped the rifle and curled into a ball. Escape eluded her. All reason left her. Survival became of the utmost importance. She tried melding with the ground. The musty odor of forest floor and leaves clogged her nose. Her shoulder throbbed, and she wrapped her arms around her head. Don’t cry. Don’t scream. Don’t breathe. Tears forged a course down her cheeks.

  Breath, hot and rancid cascaded over her, rancid and sour. Bile rose in her throat. The bear continued to batter her like a rotten log, rolling her back and forth, like a cat with a toy. Each breath became a burning agony. Delly chanted silently for God to save her.

  “Hey!” Junior fired his rifle.

  The enraged bear turned, its back paw slicing across Delly’s thigh. She lost control and screamed.

  The bear roared and rose. Junior fired again. The animal fell to the ground with a moan. Delly closed her eyes. Pain washed over her with the intensity of the desert sun.

  “Ma!” Junior knelt and shook her.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “You’re bleeding awful bad.” His words caught. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. You told me not to move and I did anyway. Can you get up?”

  “I don’t think so.” She kept her eyes closed, fighting not to vomit. Every move, no matter how small, shot fire through her body. She forced her words through her clenched teeth. “You’ll have to go and get help.”