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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Gabe set a fast pace straight for the Sheriff’s office. Sheriff Bill Spraggins, a man whose lanky frame reminded Gabe of a crow, reclined behind a battered wood desk. The toes of his cowboy boots, propped on the scarred surface, faced the door. A black Stetson sat low over his eyes. Gabe slammed the door.

  Sheriff Spraggins grunted and let his chair fall back into place with a thud. “Gabe Williams. Didn’t see you come in.”

  “Maybe ‘cause you were sleeping.” Gabe grinned. The sheriff must have had a rough night. The two didn’t always see eye-to-eye, considering Gabe rarely came to town and often had a beef with Amos when he did, but he figured a positive attitude might help the sheriff be more willing to listen to what he had to say.

  “What brings you in, Gabe?” The sheriff leaned his elbows on the desk. “Haven’t seen your face in months.”

  Gabe pulled the tobacco tin from his pocket and tossed it in front of the sheriff. It clattered to a stop on the desk. “First of all, found this on my land right after a fire that almost destroyed everything I’ve worked for. On two separate occasions, someone lets my cows loose. The last time, the culprit shot me.”

  “Loose? It’s free range out here.”

  “Not for me. I keep them fenced in a pretty little valley not far from my house. I haven’t used free range since a year ago. Not since things started happening.” Gabe didn’t wait to be asked. He swung a cane bottom chair around and straddled it. “If I lose my house or my cattle, I’m done for.”

  Sheriff Spraggins picked up the tin. “Any idea who this belongs to?”

  “I’m guessing Amos Jenkins.”

  “Guessing.” Spraggins dropped the tin into a desk drawer. “I’ll look into it Gabe, but without proof, there isn’t a lot I can do. You can’t go around accusing law-abiding people without proof of some kind.”

  “I know it’s Amos, and so do you.” Gabe frowned, crossing his arms on the back of the chair. “He’s wanted my land ever since I married Maggie.”

  “You mean he’s wanted Maggie’s land. He is co-signer.”

  “Not if I meet the stipulations set in place.” Gabe stood forcibly enough to send the chair crashing to the floor. “And I intend to do just that.”

  “What kind of stipulations?”

  Gabe took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He still didn’t understand Maggie’s motivation. “The land had to be developed in five years. If Maggie died while married, the same terms applied to her spouse. And by developed, the terms state a wood framed house.” He glared at the sheriff. “Seems silly to me, but who knows why she made such a deal. Amos must have got her dander up good. A house is a house, but if I want to keep what I’ve sweated over, I’m up against a wall.”

  “Don’t step outside the law, Gabe.” Spraggins used his index finger to push his hat back. “Jenkins has a lot of stock in this town. Folks’ll side with him easy enough.”

  “I noticed you didn’t comment on the fact I was shot, so it’s easy to see whose side you’re on.”

  “A sheriff only takes sides between law-abiding and law-breaking. ‘Sides, you’re still breathing so no real harm done.”

  “I hope you do choose the right side.” Gabe spun and stormed outside before he said something that would get him into trouble or locked behind bars. He didn’t care how much money Amos had or how many influential friends. What he wanted was to be left alone to farm his homestead and raise his family.

  He headed to the feed store. As he turned the corner by the bank, Amos strolled from the saloon, his arm around a pretty gal. Gabe froze and locked gazes with his nemesis. “Jenkins.”

  Amos’s eyes widened, then narrowed as his lips curved into a cold, thin smile. “Williams.” He ruffled the girl’s hair, then let his hand trail down her bare arm. “See you later, sweetheart.”

  Gabe grimaced. “Bet you’re surprised to see me, you back-shooting, cow stealing, scoundrel.”

  “Such words from a Christian man. Having problems?” Amos took a shiny tobacco tin from his pocket and rolled a cigarette. “If it’s too much for you, I have a solution to your predicament.”

  “Nothing you say will change my mind.” Gabe crossed his arms, fairly certain the tin shoved back into Amos’s pocket was a new one to replace the one the sheriff now had. “But shooting a man in the back? That’s low, even for you.”

  Amos lit his cigarette and took a slow drag, then blew the smoke in Gabe’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Gabe squinted and stepped closer, putting his face inches from the other man. “Watch yourself, Amos. I won’t be so easily taken the next time.”

  ###

  Charity strolled into the mercantile. A bell tinkled over her head, and she breathed deeply of pickles, tobacco, and wood smoke. Immediately the children ran to the counter and perused the candy, standing on tip toes to peer into jars. Charity dug the shopping list from her reticule and approached the portly man behind the counter. He wore a spotless starched apron and a wide smile.

  “Charity! Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”

  “Mr. Harper.” She held out her hand. “It’s good to see you again, too.”

  “Haven’t heard of anyone’s laundry business doing quite as well as yours did. I don’t sell as much soap, that’s for sure. Of course, a Chinee man moved in with his wife. Heard tell they were starting up a laundry, but they ain’t as pretty as you.” He clapped his hands on the polished wood. “How may I help you?”

  Charity handed him her list. “I’d like to browse a bit, see if I want to add to this, and pick up my purchases in the morning. Will that be all right?”

  “Whatever you want. It’s nice to see your face again. These your children?”

  “Yes. I married into a ready-made family.”

  “Yep, heard tell you married Gabriel Williams. He’s a good man. You couldn’t have done much better.” Mr. Harper stuck her list under his statement book. The bell tinkled over the door, and he frowned over Charity’s shoulder.

  She turned as Amos Jenkins sauntered inside. The man acted as if he owned the place. He flicked what was left of a cigarette at the spittoon and missed. With a grind of his boot, he crushed the burning end into the floor. Charity stuck her nose in the air and moved to the yard goods. Amos followed.

  “Mrs. Williams, if I remember correctly. “

  “The children give away the fact of who I am.” Charity fingered a bolt of yellow calico which would make a fine new dress for Meg. “Seeing as how you know their father.”

  He sidestepped in front of her. “We ought to get better acquainted, Mrs. Williams. We’re practically kin.”

  “How so?” Had Gabriel withheld another secret from her? Wasn’t this the man he placed his silly wager with? Every time Charity turned around she learned another nugget of information her husband neglected to tell her. Pain stabbed her heart. When would Gabe trust her with all his secrets?

  “I’m his late wife’s cousin. Which means, those young’uns are more mine than they are his And it isn’t often I forget a pretty face. Why, I remember when you used to do my laundry. You’ve moved up in the world.”

  Charity moved quickly to the counter and pulled the children close to her. Absolutely no way would she allow him to touch one hair on their heads. She remembered him, too. Tight fisted with his money, and quick to complain about the service.

  “Gabriel married their mother. That counts for something.” It had to. Life in the wilds of Montana didn’t guarantee anyone would live to an old age. If it weren’t certain Gabe could keep the children, then Charity definitely couldn’t if she were widowed.

  Meg pressed against her leg. “We don’t know you, mister.”

  “That’s enough, Amos.” Mr. Harper came from around the counter. “Best you leave Charity and these little ones alone. I’m sure a man as important as you think you are has better things to do than harass my customers.”

  Amos narrowed his eyes. “Careful, Harper. I can make things difficult
for you.”

  “I don’t cotton to threats. If you ain’t buying, skedaddle.” Harper crossed his arms over his round paunch.

  Amos tipped his hat in Charity’s direction. “Ma’am. Until we meet again.”

  She gave him a cool nod and watched him leave. “Thank you, Mr. Harper. I’m not sure why he felt the need to accost me.”

  “Amos thinks he owns this town. Guess he might have enough money to at that, yet it never seems to be enough. Anyway, most folks are afraid of riling him.” Mr. Harper moved back behind the counter. “I wouldn’t fret. The feud between him and your husband has been going on for years. It’s harmless enough. While you continue to browse, I’ll start filling your order.”

  It didn’t seem harmless. Gabriel may not have said anything, but Charity began to suspect that the wager was behind the disappearing cattle and the fire. The afternoon of shopping lost its luster. If not for the expectant looks on the children’s faces, she’d leave the store and wait in the buckboard for Gabriel. As it was, she made a mental note of the things she wanted to purchase for Christmas, then wrote them on the list Mr. Harper had.

  “Can we have a peppermint now?” Meg tugged on her sleeve. “And I want to buy Pa a new shirt for Christmas. Do we have enough money?”

  Gabriel hadn’t given her a spending limit, but there was nothing wrong with being frugal. “How about the fabric for a new shirt? You can help me sew it.”

  “What about me?” Sam said. “I can’t sew a shirt, nor darn socks.”

  “How about a pair of store bought socks, then.” Mr. Harper showed Sam a thick pair of grey wool socks. “Ought to keep him warm doing winter chores.”

  “We’ll take them,” Charity said. “Do you have any books?”

  “Got Great Expectations by Charles Dickens in trade for some mining supplies.”

  “I’ll take it, too.” It ought to give Gabriel something to read when the sun set and the snows fell. Something other than Bible verses every night. Maybe he read the Bible because he had nothing else to read.

  Probably not. Gabriel believed every word he read between the leather. Each time he read, Charity found something else to do, but the look in his eyes when she did tugged at her conscience. She’d have to make a better effort to listen to what he read.

  Gabriel might not think books a worthy expense, but Charity did. There was never enough to read. Nor the time for that matter, except in winter. “In fact, I’ll take whatever books you have.” She could use them to teach the children to read.

  She pulled out her pouch of gold. This would be a Christmas Gabriel would never forget.

  ###

  What a pretty lady. Amos lit a cigarette and melted into the shadows beside the livery. Especially when her eyes flashed as they had when he’d made his comment about the children. He hadn’t really appreciate her looks when she’d washed his shirts.

  He’d need to tread lightly. That she-cat wouldn’t step aside easily if she thought her loved ones were in danger.

  Gabe stepped from the sheriff’s office and tugged his hat brim before turning toward the mercantile. Amos watched with an ache in his gut as Charity exited the store and linked arms with her husband. The children skipped around them. Gabe bent his head to hear something Charity said, then threw his head back in laughter.

  A slow-burning fire rose in Amos’s stomach. He followed, ducking behind corners when one of them looked back, until they entered the diner. They sat at a table beside the window, Charity and the little girl on one side, Gabe and his son on the other.

  That should be Amos’s family enjoying a meal out. Amos’s beautiful wife smiling up at him. His wife whose lovely lips touched the water glass. He dropped his cigarette and ground it into the dirt, imagining he smashed Gabe’s face.

  Somehow, someway, Gabe Williams would pay for depriving Amos of the life he deserved. And Amos had all winter to work on that plan.

  18

  Charity rolled her glass between her hands, barely listening to the excited chattering of the children as they relayed to Gabriel all the good things available at the mercantile, and how the packages had stacked up on the counter. Instead, her mind raced with the implications Amos had spoken of.

  Finding out he was a blood relation to the children could change everything if something happened to Gabriel. Somehow, Charity had to keep her husband safe. Not only for the children’s sakes, but for hers. She didn’t want to lose any of them. In a few short months, they had become her family and filled some empty spots in her heart.

  She studied the line of Gabriel’s strong jaw and the width of his shoulders as he laughed at something Sam said. Gabriel still held himself a little stiff as if his stitches pulled, but otherwise, no one would be able to tell a bullet cut a crease in his side. He’d recovered quickly and nicely, laying Charity’s and the children’s fears to rest. At least for now.

  The waitress brought their meals of stew and biscuits, then retreated to wait on other customers. The tantalizing aroma of meat broth teased Charity’s stomach. She dipped her spoon into it and pulled her gaze away from Gabe’s chiseled face.

  The sun set behind the mountains. Gas lights flickered on inside the restaurant. Charity didn’t want to be anywhere but where she was—sitting across from a handsome man she called husband and watching the lamplight flicker in his eyes when he glanced at her.

  How much did she really want, or need, gold? With winter fast approaching, her chances of actually striking it rich were diminishing by the day. But if not gold, what else did she have of value to offer Gabriel to entice him to let her stay? If he sent her away, she would definitely need riches in order to survive, or go back to doing laundry. Only the former appealed to her.

  “You seem deep in thought this evening.” Gabriel smiled at her over the rim of his glass.

  “Just thinking of the shopping I did today.” Charity gripped her spoon tighter to keep her hands from shaking. She had never been a good liar. “The children enjoyed themselves so much picking out Christmas presents.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  Oh, how easily the falsehoods leaped to her tongue. “Very much.” She didn’t dare tell him about Amos accosting her. There would be no telling how Gabriel would react.

  She forced an answering smile. “Did you accomplish everything you wished to?”

  “Mostly. I’ll need to stop at the mercantile myself in the morning. The livery should have the feed loaded early enough we can be home by supper.”

  “That will be wonderful.” Charity bit into a piece of venison soaked in stew juices. She tasted onions and pepper and made a mental note to add some to her own pot when she cooked. Home by supper. It really did sound wonderful, although the thought of being cooped up in a sod house for months wasn’t any more appealing than it had been a month ago.

  What if Gabriel decided he didn’t like her after having nothing but her company all day? She wasn’t skilled in social graces or flirtation. She was plain, simple, Charity. After a while, she couldn’t even use the children as a buffer. She didn’t go to sleep as early as they did, either. She was doomed for failure and felt her heart break a bit at the thought.

  Well, O’Connell’s never gave up. Neither would she. She kept the smile forced on her face and focused on Gabriel. The Irish were full of blarney, and Charity’s da had been the best teacher a girl could have. Certainly, she had learned some of his charming ways.

  She lifted her glass. “Here’s to a prosperous winter.”

  ###

  Gabe grinned and returned Charity’s toast. Something was on her pretty little mind, but he wouldn’t force her to tell him until she was ready. Hopefully, it had nothing to do with fears about spending the winter with him. He was actually looking forward to some alone time with her. Getting to know the real Charity O’Connell Williams.

  He glanced out the window to full dark. Supper had been pleasant enough to make him forget the passing of time. “We should head to the hotel.” He dug the cost of
the meal out of his pocket and tossed it on the table.

  With the children ahead of them, Gabe placed his hand on the curve of Charity’s back, and steered her outside. Her flesh warmed his palm through the thin calico dress, alerting him to her womanly softness. He would like to wrap his arm securely around her, but didn’t relish getting punched. Her feistiness was one of the things he loved about her.

  His steps faltered. Loved about her? Heaven help him. Had attraction deepened to something much stronger?

  Charity peered up at him. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure, just tripped over something.” His crazy thoughts.

  An orange glow like the end of a burning cigarette showed by the livery, then fell and was snuffed out. Gabe narrowed his eyes to see through the night. A light flickered on in a nearby window and illuminated the man’s face. Amos? “Charity, take the children back to the hotel. There’s one more thing I need to check on.”

  “Now?” Charity frowned. “Nothing is open except for saloons. You aren’t going gambling, are you?”

  “Pa?” Sam tapped his shoulder and pointed. “I think that’s the man we saw at the mercantile today. He said he was our cousin and was bothering Ma.”

  Amos sauntered across the street. The strike of a match glowed on his face as he lit another cigarette.

  Gabe turned to Charity. “Why didn’t you tell me he bothered you today?”

  “It was nothing, Gabriel. Really. Mr. Harper ran him off.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Please don’t go after him.”

  “He shouldn’t be allowed to bother my family.” Heat rose up Gabe’s neck and into his face. “Now, do as I’ve asked.”

  She stiffened. “Come along, children. The master has spoken.” She took them by the hand and marched down the sidewalk, heels clicking, skirts swaying, toward the hotel.

  He hadn’t intended to make her mad, but he sure seemed to do that a lot. Gabe tugged his hat more firmly on his head and jogged in the direction in which Amos had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what he’d do once he caught the man. He knew what he wanted to do, and acting on that want would land Gabe in jail, not to mention give him one more thing to repent of. Something he definitely did not want.