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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Maybe.” She increased her pace, willing to grasp at any hope. Maybe Pa was passing time with some of his cronies at one of those hunting camps. He’d never done it without saying anything before, but something could’ve held him up.

  “Here.” Jacob pointed at faint tire tracks. “How many people up here have automobiles?”

  “Not many.” She turned in that direction. A sweet scent carried to her on the breeze. “This way.”

  They stepped into a clearing. Phoebe gasped. In the center, a fire blazed beneath a mash barrel. The smell of yeast filled the air. A man dozed beneath a tree, hat pulled low over his eyes. Several barrels, with drips of liquid soaking into the wood formed a line, as if waiting their turn to leave. She grabbed his hand “Back up quietly, Jacob. We have to go.”

  “Let me ask him a couple of questions.”

  “Without your gun?” She tugged harder. “Do you know what moonshiners will do if they catch us? Especially since we’re here without permission?”

  The clatter of a truck bouncing over ruts echoed through the trees. Lord, help them.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ve heard stories.”

  “They shoot first, and ask questions later.”

  4

  “Okay.” Jacob released Phoebe’s hand and stopped at the foot of the mountain to catch his breath. “Maybe you can fly down this rock strewn path, but I can’t. We’re lucky I didn’t break a leg.”

  “We can’t stay here.” Phoebe resumed her hold of his hand.

  “I think we’re far enough away not to garner attention.” Jacob yanked free, straightened, and speared her with a glance. “Is your father messed up with moonshine?”

  Her eyes glittered as her cheeks reddened. “He never touches the stuff.”

  “Maybe that pension check I dropped off yesterday isn’t his only source of cash.”

  The force of her slap drove his head back. “How dare you? You can’t come into our Hollow and start throwing words like that around. Those are fighting words.” She aimed the gun at him.

  Jacob lowered himself to a fallen log and gripped his hair with his hands. He’d traveled far and wide to put the temptation of drink behind him. Now, an entire still beckoned from the distance of only a few miles. Help me, God. “I’m sorry. If you say your father isn’t making the stuff, I believe you.”

  But she didn’t say he wasn’t a middle man. He shook his head to wipe it clear of such thoughts. Most of the men around here probably knew how to get their hands on the stuff. Didn’t mean they were active in the making of it.

  Her lip curled, and she lowered the weapon. “It’s getting dark. We’d best head home.”

  “Please.” He rose and grabbed her arm. “I really do apologize.” Seemed he did a lot of that around the prickly woman. “I want to help you find your father.”

  “It’s none of your business. We tend to our own.” Phoebe marched away, leaving him in the growing darkness of the woods. “Turn right. You’ll run into your place.” She tossed the directions over her shoulder.

  Great. Jacob glanced around him. Alone, in a country full of bears, cougars, wolves, and makers of moonshine. He could see the headlines now. Pine Ridge Teacher Eaten Before Opening School. Made him wonder what happened to the teacher before him.

  And how could he break through the wall built around Phoebe Lillie? This wasn’t the first time he’d worked around mountain people. They had pride and a self-sufficiency that left him wanting what they had. In a few more years, the world would infringe on the people of Pine Ridge. Gone would be their idyllic simple life.

  With the rest of the world struggling through a Depression, they’d soon discover the fertile soil around the Buffalo River bottoms. Would these people be able to handle their problems with a gun then?

  With a glance over his shoulder, Jacob hurried home and lit the only oil lamp in the cabin. He latched the door and fell onto the cot. He’d dug himself a hole. One full of whiskey and a blue-eyed woman. He wanted to pick up his things and leave, but jobs were almost impossible to find in this day and age. Besides, the new Jacob Wright didn’t quit. God sent him to this place for a purpose. He aimed to find out what it was and fulfill it. Despite the Lillie family.

  He slapped the mattress with the palms of his hands. Better think of something else.

  In the morning, he’d hike back to Dixon’s and post a notice about school starting. Maybe try to get a list of his students so he could visit the families. And, he’d need some way of getting around. His legs wouldn’t hold up on the long trails.

  He folded his arms across his stomach and felt the crackle of the money. The ten dollars in his pocket seemed to be burning a hole in his pants, reminding him of something that would make his troubles seem to disappear. He threw an arm over his eyes. He’d tried that route before and lost everything.

  *

  Phoebe latched the cabin door behind her and glanced to where her grandma dozed in the rocking chair. After kicking off her shoes, she tip-toed to the fireplace and hung the shotgun in the rack.

  “No use sneaking around. I know you’re back.” Grandma opened one eye. “Guess you didn’t find him.”

  “No.” Phoebe’s lowered her aching body into the chair opposite the older woman.

  “What did you find?”

  She raised her head in surprise. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  Phoebe sighed. “Jacob and I stumbled across an active still. About three miles up the mountain. He accused Pa of having a hand in it.”

  “Well, the man ain’t from around here. Wouldn’t know, would he?” Grandma closed her eye and leaned her head back. “Don’t worry. Your Pa is a God-fearing man.”

  “He wants to help me look for Pa. What if he’s a cover for the Feds? What if Pa is mixed up somehow?”

  “That’s a lot of ifs.” Grandma resumed her rocking. “Think on something else for a while. Like Viola’s seventeenth birthday next week, or Callie’s twelfth the week after. Then there’s Thanksgiving. If your Pa has found himself in a peck of trouble, JJ will have to hunt the turkey.”

  Already? Phoebe’s mouth went dry. Wasn’t Grandma worried at all about her son? The woman seemed to know something Phoebe didn’t and the thought wasn’t reassuring. She hadn’t denied the possibility of Pa having a hand in moonshine. Lots of God-fearing men did, thinking it a way to make ends meet. And most of them ended up dead.

  She’d make herself crazy thinking that way. Better to concentrate on something she might be able to handle.

  The younger kids all needed new shoes before the winter, and Peter’s pants hung way above his ankles. Maybe she could sew a larger hem on them by using one of Pa’s worn overalls. She slumped in the chair. That would just take away from Pa’s clothes. None of them had extra of anything.

  Why’d it all have to fall on her anyway? She loved her family but hadn’t asked for the job. Now, she had to worry about that whiskey still in addition to finding out what happened to Pa. Maybe he laid dead somewhere. They might never find out.

  “And not to heap more on your head, but the corn meal is running out too. Gotta take some corn to the mill to be ground tomorrow.” Grandma rose. “I’m going to bed. Starting tomorrow, the boys get the loft. My old bones can’t keep climbing that ladder.”

  Should’ve made the move years ago, but the elderly woman resisted, saying she didn’t have one foot in the grave yet. Tears welled and escaped, running down Phoebe’s cheeks. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t raise six young’uns and care for an old woman. Not without her Pa. Maybe she should accept Eli’s offer of marriage.

  The thought made her stomach acid churn. She’d send JJ to the mill tomorrow. No way did she want to face Eli who was certain to be working. Instead, she’d browse Dixon’s shelves for birthday gifts and see how far she could stretch Pa’s pension check.

  Philippians 3:14 ran through her mind. She could do all things through Christ who strengthened her. The last year proved it. But shouldn�
��t life offer a little fun? Some brightness once in a while to lift the burden of heavy days?

  She lifted the skirt of her dress and wiped her eyes, noting how faded the fabric had gotten. Remorse flooded through her. Instead of rejoicing over the gift of newly even legs, she grumbled about things she couldn’t control. To top it off, she’d been rude to the man presenting the gift. She sighed. There’d be a way of making it up to him. She’d make sure.

  Their hound bayed out front, pulling Phoebe from her musing. She peeked out the hole drilled in the door. Blackness greeted her. The dog continued its noise.

  Something struck the side of the house, sending Phoebe’s heart into her throat. She opened the door an inch. “Boomer, come here.”

  The dog leaped to the porch and faced the yard. The hair on his neck bristled. A rock bounced off his ribcage, and he yelped.

  Phoebe darted to the shotgun, grabbed it from its holder, and stepped onto the porch. “Who’s there? Show yourself, you yellow-striped coward.”

  Another rock struck her in the shoulder. Pain radiated down her arm and the shotgun slipped. When the second missile missed her head by inches, she backed into the house, Boomer skittering between her legs, and slammed the door.

  “What is it?” JJ burst into the room, hooking the strap of his overalls in place.

  “I don’t know.” Phoebe handed him the gun. “Someone’s throwing rocks at the house. They hit me. My arm’s numb.” She fell into her pa’s kitchen chair.

  JJ propped the shotgun beside the door and peered out. “Can’t see a thing. It’s as dark as the bottom of a well.” He jumped back as another thud hit the house. “Good thing this old house is built solid. Best we ride it out. They’ll quit sometime.”

  “Jacob Wright and I stumbled across a still today.” Phoebe shuddered. “I wonder if Pa ran across it before he disappeared.”

  JJ nodded. “Flatbed trucks loaded with sugar and barrels have been going up and down the mountain all week.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “To who?”

  He was right. The only law they had was each other and God’s Word. Not a lot of good if moonshiners moved in. Phoebe rose and opened a drawer next to the sink. “I’m mailing a letter to Compton tomorrow. That’ll get the Feds up here.”

  JJ stopped her hand. “No, sis. Not until we find Pa.”

  Her heart stuttered. “You think he’s involved?”

  “Don’t want to, but I don’t believe in coincidences. Now that you and that city teacher found the still, ain’t none of us safe. We’ve got to pretend you didn’t see anything. Keep our mouths shut. If we don’t do anything, they’ll leave us alone.”

  Phoebe nodded. Her brother made sense. If her conscience left her alone, they could continue surviving as they were. That’s what the rocks were for. A warning to mind their own business.

  5

  Phoebe stepped on the front porch as the sun made its appearance. Ten fist-sized rocks littered the ground. Good thing she’d had the shutters closed so they didn’t go through the window. Her pa would’ve pitched a fit if something happened to one of his glass pride and joys. Phoebe’s throat swelled as she fought back the tears. If breaking a window would bring him back, she’d break one herself.

  “Got the eggs.” Callie handed her a basket. “Didn’t get pecked once.” Dimples winked from her cheeks. “Viola’s almost done milking, and JJ started cutting the Timothy grass.” She patted Phoebe’s arm as she passed. “Don’t worry. We’ll make do until Pa gets home. Even the little boys can help. Noel said he’ll feed the hogs, and Peter will take care of the chickens.”

  Phoebe blinked the moisture from her eyes. Her sister was right. She didn’t have to do everything herself. The other family members were more than capable of helping. What did she feel she had to prove? She followed Callie into the house. “I think we can spare some of these eggs for breakfast. It’s a good payment for everyone’s hard work.”

  Grandma rocked in her chair and stared into the smoky embers of last night’s fire. With her son’s disappearance, she seemed to have aged. The lines in her face deeper, the slump of her shoulders, rounder.

  “Grandma, are you all right?” Phoebe laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “Just feeling life, girl. Get breakfast so you can get to the store. I’ll mind the others while you’re gone.”

  “Are you sure? I can stay home today and go tomorrow.”

  “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.” She laid her hand over Phoebe’s. “I’m capable of watching things around here. Don’t bury me yet.”

  Phoebe nodded and moved to scramble the eggs. While she worked, she went over in her mind what she’d need from Dixon’s store. Pa’s pension check must stretch until the next month.

  They had a bit of money left from the sale of what little fruit and vegetables they didn’t can for their own use, and JJ could shoot and fish well enough to keep meat on the table and hanging in the smokehouse. They’d be all right.

  Normally, there was no problem having enough for the things they couldn’t provide for themselves. In addition to the two gifts, they needed to buy coffee, rice, beans, flour, and fabric. Not to mention overalls. She hoped Dixon had the latest copy of the Sears Roebuck catalog.

  Breakfast served, eaten, and cleaned up, Phoebe grabbed her sweater. “I’m taking the buggy.” She definitely didn’t want Dixon sending Eli to deliver her purchases.

  “Figured you would.” JJ poked his head through the doorway. “Already hitched it up.”

  “Thank you.” Phoebe hurried outside and climbed in the simple wooden buckboard. With a flick of the reins, she set the long-legged sorrel toward Dixon’s store.

  Despite the autumn chill in the air, the sun caressed her head. A breeze played music in the tree branches, showering the road ahead of her with gold and crimson. A bird chattered from a nearby oak tree. The smoke from someone’s fire swirled into the sky. A hawk soared overhead, diving in circles.

  For a moment, Phoebe pushed the worries about her pa and the moonshine aside. She allowed the stress of feeding and clothing her siblings to lift from her shoulders. God would provide. She needed to keep reminding herself of the fact. The Bible said He remembered the sparrows. Well, the Lillie’s were more than birds.

  She spied Jacob Wright hiking the road and halted the buggy. “Need a ride?”

  “I’m heading to Dixon’s.”

  “Hop in.” She waited until he sat then flicked the reins. “That’s where I’m going.”

  “I’m surprised you stopped for me, considering the way we parted yesterday.”

  Phoebe shot him a sidelong glance. “No sense holding a grudge over a difference of opinion. That’s how feuds start. Do they hold on to things in the city?”

  “Pretty much.” Jacob laid both arms along the back of the seat and slouched. “Thanks for the ride. All this walking can’t be good for a man.”

  “We’ve a mule you can use until harvest time.”

  “I’m obliged.”

  “Once my business at Dixon’s is finished, I’ll give you a lift to my place and you can pick him up.” It still rankled that he thought her pa was involved in moonshining, but the fact she could shove aside her feelings lifted her spirits. Phoebe convinced herself it had nothing to do with the way the sun highlighted his curls or the way his lips tilted at the corner like he kept a funny secret. Or the cleft in his chin. She wondered how her finger would fit. Or her lips. Her cheeks heated

  They pulled in front of the store and Phoebe jumped out to tie the reins to the hitching post, keeping her face averted. Jacob followed her inside and pulled a flier from his pocket. Leaving him to his business, she strolled to the counter.

  “Good morning, Phoebe.” Dixon grinned and motioned toward her leg. “No limp.”

  “Mr. Wright fixed my shoe to accommodate my disability.” She handed him the list and watched as he scanned the items. “I’ve got two dozen eggs to sell you.”

&nbs
p; “I’ll give you a nickel for them. Do you want these other items on your tab?”

  “No, thank you.” How many times did she have to tell him they didn’t like credit? “I want the twenty-five pound bags. We’ve need for the sacks. The girls are growing out of their clothes faster than Grandma can sew them.”

  While he filled her order, she browsed the items on the counter, picking up a small envelope with Kool-Aid spelled across the front. “What’s this?”

  “Something new. You mix it with sugar and water and have a sweet drink. Only a nickel a package.”

  A whole nickel? “With sugar as high as it is?” What would people think of next? She started to put the drink back, then thought of the two birthdays coming up. The fancy idea would be a special treat. “Is it as good as grape soda?”

  “Some people think it’s better because of the convenience. One package makes a whole quart and only uses a cup of sugar.” He hefted a sack of sugar on the counter, followed by one of flour, beans, rice, then the precious coffee. “What else can I get you? Tobacco for your pa?”

  “No, thanks. He’s got plenty.” How did Mr. Dixon not know about her pa missing, but Eli did? Phoebe decided she’d have to look further into her pa’s dealings with Eli Coffman. “I need a couple of birthday presents. One for Viola, the other for Callie.”

  Mr. Dixon’s smile widened. “And I’ve got a special treat for you. A new shipment of books came in yesterday.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. The newest in the Tarzan series and The Great Gatsby.”

  Could she afford two? “Can you cash my pa’s pension check?”

  “Sure, I can. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give you back what’s left.”

  Jacob joined them at the counter. “That store-bought dress would be perfect for Viola.”

  Phoebe’s smile faded, and she whirled to face him. “Are you sweet on my sister?”

  *

  Jacob stepped back. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why would you pick out a dress for Viola?”