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

by Cynthia Hickey

After pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his brow free of sweat. The day promised to be a scorcher, and they hadn’t had rain in weeks. Maybe laying a floor in the coolness of the sod house wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  He climbed from the wagon and unhitched the horses. “Come on young’uns. Let’s get these horses put away and build your ma a floor.”

  By the noon hour, the three of them had carried or dragged enough lumber to cover the dirt. Once placed, Gabe would sand it, one section at a time. They ate cold ham and stale biscuits for lunch and supper.

  By nightfall, Gabe stood back and looked with pride on a pine floor. Every muscle in his body ached, and the children had collapsed into bed over an hour ago, but the floor was finished. He hung his tools on a nail by the door and moved to his bed.

  He’d never realized how quiet the place was before Charity came. He smiled, preferring her sharp comments over the silence. He shed his shirt and pants, draping them over a peg. Meg had certainly brightened with another female around the place. What would Charity say if Gabe asked her to be his wife in every sense, come what may? Even if he lost his land?

  He shrugged and stretched out on the cornhusk mattress. She’d most likely scoff and say a deal was a deal. After less than a week as Mrs. Williams, she had no idea what kind of a man Gabe really was. He folded his arms behind his head. He had a year to convince her to stay, and what a year it promised to be.

  *

  Charity lay on her pallet beside the cold fireplace and stared through the dark at the ceiling. More tired than she could remember ever being, she willed her mind to slow. The day’s activities, everything from cooking to gardening tips swirled through her mind like a dust devil she’d once seen. Already her pad of paper contained recipes, tips, and household advice from a woman who had been married most of her adult life.

  From a few feet away, the Stoltzes murmured to each other that secret language between a husband and wife. Charity rolled to her side in an attempt to find a comfortable position on the hard wood floor and tune out their voices.

  When Hiram had come in from working the fields, he’d gone straight to his wife and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. The memory caused tears to sting Charity’s eyes. Her da had tried tender caresses with her mother, but Ma had always shrugged him off. Yet somehow, Charity had known that marriage could be a joyful thing and she’d kept an eye out for a husband of her own ever since.

  No one had caught her fancy until Gabriel. Now, he wanted her only as a temporary solution to a problem. Charity sighed and rolled in the other direction. Da told her once that every human had another half. If they looked hard enough, they’d find the person who fulfilled them. Charity wasn’t sure she ever would.

  8

  “Good morning.” Mabel grinned down at Charity. “The sun is shining, God is in His heaven, and all is right with the world.”

  Charity blinked away the fog from sleep. How could she have overslept? What would Mabel think of her? She got groggily to her feet. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry. You worked hard yesterday.” Mabel tied her apron around her ample waist. “After breakfast, I will teach you to make soap. I know you already do laundry well, but I’m guessing you bought your soap.”

  “Yes.” Charity folded the blankets that formed her pallet and stacked them neatly in the corner. “I stayed too busy to learn anything else, and now there don’t seem to be enough hours in the day.” Please, don’t think me ungrateful.

  Mabel patted her shoulder. “Once you learn what you need to know, and set up a schedule, you’ll have time to simply be. You wait and see. There are many evenings when Hiram and I sit under that old oak tree and speak of the day’s events.” She laughed. “Not that a lot happens way out here, but it’s nice to just rest together. You leave it all in God’s hands. He’ll see you through.”

  Not likely. Charity measured ingredients for buttermilk biscuits. The day before, Mabel had interspersed talk of God during their conversations, leaving Charity uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in the Almighty, she just didn’t have time to spend with someone who chose to take away everyone she cared about.

  Gabriel seemed the same as the Stoltzes, bowing his head and giving thanks for the meals and thanks for Charity’s care of the children, almost as if God were someone a mere human could speak with as they would a friend.

  “You’re faraway,” Mabel said, scrambling eggs. “Missing Gabriel and the children?”

  “Very much.” Charity set the biscuits in the stove.

  “He told me of the arrangement between the two of you.”

  Charity straightened so fast she hit her head on a low hanging shelf. Putting a hand to the sore spot, she turned.

  “I gave him a good talking to.” Mabel grinned. “Now, my Hiram, if he decided to be so devious, would receive a clunk on the head with my skillet.”

  Charity smiled. No condemnation reflected from the other woman’s eyes. “I thought to finally have a family and home of my own.”

  “You do.”

  “For a time.” Charity glanced at her fingers. Small flecks of blood dotted the pads. “Seems I’ve hurt myself.”

  “You poor thing!” Mabel set the pan of eggs aside and grabbed a rag, before helping Charity into a kitchen chair. “Sit and let me have a look.” She parted Charity hair. “Just a scratch. You’ll have a headache at the least.” She dabbed at the cut. “Do you regret wedding Gabriel?”

  Charity shrugged. “I don’t think so. My worry is that it will be too difficult to leave when the time comes. Already Meg and Sam own my heart.”

  “And Gabriel too, I’ll wager.”

  Charity cringed. Mabel was closer to the truth than she knew. Gabriel was claiming a piece of Charity’s heart way faster than she liked.

  “I see.” Mabel sat across from her. “Why does the mention of gambling trouble you so? Or is it my mention of your husband?”

  Charity twisted the rag in her hands. “Me Da made good money once upon a time, back in Ireland, running the stables for a wealthy Englishman. Mother and I had no idea he was gambling to add to his salary. Then, he got the idea of striking it rich in America. Ma died soon after we arrived. A little over two years ago now, Da lost everything, and Ma passed. I’ve been on me own ever since.”

  “Then Gabriel came along and promised you something more.”

  “It was never meant to be permanent.” Charity pushed back from the table. “Let’s finish breakfast and get to soap making, shall we?”

  “Gabriel isn’t your father, Charity.” Mabel returned the eggs to the stove. “He made one mistake, but he’s a good man. He’ll do right by you. You trust in God and wait and see.”

  After they ate breakfast and washed the dishes, Mabel sent Charity around the corner of the barn to collect rainwater for the soap from a barrel stashed there. Charity eyed the small amount. Without rain for weeks, folks that didn’t live near a creek would be hurting before long.

  Filling two buckets, and depleting the amount to a drastically low level, Charity trudged back to the front yard. Mabel shouldn’t have to give up precious stores of water because Charity didn’t know how to do the simplest of chores.

  “I’ve already collected the oak ash we need.” Mabel poured the water carefully into a barrel. “The ash filters the lye. We’ll be replacing and draining every day this week. On Saturday, we’ll test it by floating an egg inside. I figure this will make both of us enough soap to last a while. Once you’ve gotten better at it, you can add some lavender or sunflower oil to make it smell pretty.”

  Charity studied the ash and rocks in the bottom of the barrel. Purchasing one’s soap was definitely easier and faster.

  “This afternoon, we’ll work on cutting out a pattern. We’ll start with an easy project, like an apron. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you about canning, then the next day something fun. We’ll learn knitting and quilting.” Mabel clapped her hands. “I feel as if the Lord has blessed me with a daughter
after all these years.”

  “I have a little skill with a needle.” She’d mended many ripped trousers and shirts for the miners in Virginia City. Her heart warmed at Mabel’s words. Maybe she wouldn’t be a total loss as a prairie wife, after all.

  “Wonderful. The learning will go fast.” Mabel wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ve some ham left. Let’s fix some sandwiches for lunch and get started right away.”

  Was this what it was like to have a mother who took the time to teach her daughter valuable skills as she raised her? A mother who had a love for life and wanted to pass that same love on to her child? Charity’s mother hadn’t done much but sit and stare out the window since Charity turned six and Ma had lost a newborn baby girl.

  It was Da’s love that filled the empty spaces in her childhood. When he was sober and at home. Now, he had left her penniless and alone.

  Charity glanced at the mountains rising behind the farm. “Are there any gold mines around here?”

  “Hiram has found a few small nuggets in the creek that sets aways back in those trees.” Mabel tilted her head. “You aren’t contemplating searching yourself, are you? Panning or mining is hard and dangerous work. Isn’t that how your father died?”

  Charity jerked. “How do you know that?”

  “Bad news spreads through town like a plague. Even faster was the news that an eligible young woman was left without a protector.” Mabel strolled into the house. “How you stayed unwed for this long remains a mystery.”

  “I do intend to be rich, Mabel.” Charity marched to the stove. “One way or another, I will locate gold.”

  “Seems to be that you’re driven by the wrong need, young lady.” Mabel grabbed a knife and sliced into a fresh loaf of bread. “There’s a hole in your heart that only God can fill. Not a husband, children, and definitely not gold.”

  “Please do not speak religion to me.” Charity gripped the board that served as Mabel’s counter and squeezed until her knuckles turned white. “Life is what I make it, and I choose to make it one where there is plenty of money. My Da used to say, ‘May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.’ I intend to do just that.”

  “Oh, you poor child.” Mabel folded her hands and brought them to her chest. “I will pray long and hard for you to find the truth.”

  “May I go outside for a moment? I have a need for some fresh air.”

  “Certainly.”

  Charity nodded and brushed past Mabel. Outside, she quickened her pace and marched past the barn and corral and into a stand of aspens. Once there, she collapsed with a flutter of her skirts and covered her face. Mabel could pray as long and as hard as she wanted, but Charity intended to only do what was required of her as Gabriel’s wife. God might choose to help some people, but He didn’t choose to help Charity.

  *

  Gabriel praised God he’d cut extra pine planks for flooring as he nailed the last one into place for his new house. Having the foresight to do so sped up the building process. With the foundation complete, he could start hammering boards into place for rooms. He’d spend as many days of the winter as he could in the barn building furniture. Things were finally heading in the direction he wanted them to go.

  He glanced in the direction of the Stoltz farm, too far for him to see, yet he still searched for a woman with hair the color of ripe strawberries. It had been unsettling the last few nights, knowing she didn’t sleep on her side of the quilt. No gentle snores or rustling of blankets. Sam and Meg did their chores, but without laughter. Even the kitten failed to elicit shouts of glee from them.

  A dust devil rose, towering over the plains. If they didn’t get rain soon, they’d lose their crops and some of the livestock. The creek was getting low, and the grass turning brown. Even the aspens looked as if they labored under the sun.

  Sam handed him a dipper of water. “When’s Ma coming home? You said she was away learning to cook, right? I’m tired of the same old thing every night.”

  Gabriel took a long drink then dumped the rest over his head. “We’re picking her up in the morning.”

  “I’m going to go pick some wildflowers.” Sam tore toward the creek.

  Gabe smiled. If there were any flowers left, the creek would most likely be the only place around to find them.

  “Pa?” Meg stopped in front of him, holding the kitten like it was a baby. Maybe Charity was right. The children needed a toy or two. It was something for Gabe to think about for Christmas instead of the usual fruit and nuts and the occasional new item of clothing.

  “What do you need, Meg?”

  “I miss Ma.” Tears shimmered in her dark eyes. “I don’t like being the only girl here.”

  “You were the only girl for a good long while.” Gabe pocketed the last of his nails and stood, popping the kinks from his back.

  “But not anymore!” Meg glowered up at him, squeezing the kitten hard enough to elicit a meow from the poor animal.

  “Charity will be back in the morning.” How would the children react when Charity left in the spring? One stupid wager left Gabe’s life hanging upside down. An impulsive offer to a beautiful woman set it to spinning, and he had no idea how to set it right.

  He stared at his daughter’s face. Meg would never forgive him. Tears ran down her cheeks in silent suffering. Gabe sighed. “Get your brother. We’ll fetch your ma now.”

  *

  Charity crossed her arms and stared over the prairie. The sun brushed the top of the mountains with indigo and purple. A slight breeze ruffled the dry grass and carried with it the faint scent of honeysuckle.

  A cloud of dust hovered on the horizon. Most likely another infernal dust devil invited to stay by the lack of rain.

  Mabel had stuffed Charity’s head as full of womanly knowledge as she could in a week’s time. Confident with the skills she’d learned, Charity would head home in the morning, ready to show Gabriel exactly what she was capable of.

  The dust cloud moved closer. Charity squinted. Could it be? She poked her head into the house. “Gabriel’s here.” Early. What happened? Did something happen to one of the children? Charity hefted her skirts and took off down the road at a run.

  She skidded to a halt at the surprised look on Gabriel’s face. Behind him, Sam and Meg peered over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Charity asked, a hand at her throat.

  “The children missed you.” Gabriel continued toward the house, calling over his shoulder, “We’ve come to take you home.”

  Home. What a wonderful word. Charity dashed back to the house and thundered inside, hurriedly gathering together her meager belongings and pad of paper. She grinned at Mabel. “They’ve come for me.”

  “Of course they have, child.” Mabel pulled her into a hug. “You give that man time. Before you know it, he’ll realize the treasure he has in front of him.”

  She hoped so, she really did, but Charity didn’t count herself as much of a treasure. Once she found gold, then she’d have something of worth to give Gabriel. She returned Mabel’s hug. “Thank you so much.”

  “We’re family now,” Mabel said. “Don’t be a stranger. We’re less than an hour’s ride away. Once winter hits, you’ll be snowed in. Let’s get our visiting in while we can.”

  “Fourth of July.” Charity stepped back. “Come for a picnic. I’ll cook and show you my much improved skills.”

  “We’d be happy to.” Mabel gave her a gentle shove toward the door. “Go. Your man is waiting.”

  If only her words were true.

  9

  Weeks passed with life settling into a routine of chores and stolen glances. Every time Charity’s work took her outside, she made an effort to take Gabriel a drink of water or a bit to eat as he worked on the new house.

  The frame stretched to the Montana sky, offering a glimpse of what the structure would someday look like. Two stories with a porch that stretched the length of the front. She tried to hope she would be around to live within its fine walls, but more ofte
n than not, Gabriel refused to meet her eye. Oh, but he did look her way. When he thought she didn’t notice. The knowledge kept a spot warm at the bottom of her heart, a spark that needed but a bit of encouragement to flame.

  Charity lifted her hair off her neck. This infernal drought! Tomorrow was the Fourth of July, and they were expecting the Stoltzes. She wanted to show Mabel the fine floor Gabe laid while she was gone, and have the other woman sample some of Charity’s cooking.

  She had forged ahead in a sweltering kitchen to bake apple pies, corn pone, and the ribs from a hog Gabriel obligingly slaughtered for the occasion. She’d even had time to fashion fabric from one of Maggie’s old dresses into a new dress for Meg.

  What she hadn’t had time for was panning for that ever elusive gold. Sometimes, when Gabriel caught her staring out the door at the creek or mountains, she thought maybe he knew the thoughts that ran through her mind. Yet, he never said a word. Charity had moved the ‘fool’s’ gold from her pocket to the mantel where she could lay eyes on it every day. Whenever she went to the creek for water, she scanned the bottom for a glint of something that might be real.

  She reached out to check the laundry hanging on the line. Almost dry. It didn’t take long in the hot summer, almost drying before she clipped them to the line.

  From the open door of the sod house came the delectable scent of baking bread. She’d have to be careful not to burn it. The last thing she wanted to do was sit inside beside the sweltering stove and watch the bread bake. A sod house might be cooler than a log one, but with heat this intense, it didn’t provide much relief.

  Grabbing the bucket she used to carry drinking water, Charity strolled to the creek, filled it, and headed to where Gabriel and Sam mucked out the barn.

  Gabe nodded and accepted the dipper of water. “Thank you. I’m parched.” After drinking his fill, he handed the dipper to Sam. “We haven’t had a summer this hot in a long time.”

  Charity started. Was he actually talking to her? “Hmmm, guess not, but I’ll be glad for cooler weather.”