Ben Lillie grasped her arm and pulled her into the shade of the trees. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m doing. Not even Grandma. Tell her I’m stringing wire for the REA. Anything.”
The Rural Electrification Administration hadn’t moved this far north. “She might believe it.” She peered through the dark at his face. “She’s making herself sick.”
“There’s evil moving, Phoebe. A darkness I don’t want my family involved in. Especially the young’uns. You know how hard headed JJ is.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “What’s this I hear about you accepting Eli Coffman’s proposal? The man’s dangerous.”
“Is that why his name is on that list you gave the Widow Williams?” That meant the sheriff was involved too. Phoebe’s blood ran cold.
Her pa shook her. “Mind me, girl. Stay away from him.”
“I can’t. I want to help you. You know I can. Pa, you’re involved in moonshine. JJ and I found the stash of corn and sugar. I can pretend as well as you. Lots of folks make the stuff for extra money. They’ll think the same of us.” He had to believe her. “You can’t take on something this big by yourself. I’ll send for the Feds if you don’t let me help.”
“No. It’s too early for that.” He released her. “You got anyone that can look out for you? Someone that can be trusted to keep their mouth shut?”
“Are you accepting my help?”
“Yes, God help me, I am.”
She nodded. “The new school teacher can be trusted. I like him, Pa. And I think he feels the same about me.”
He drew her into his arms, smelling of whiskey and tobacco. “That’s fine, Phoebe. Real fine.” He tightened his hold. “Just remember not to believe all the stories you’ll hear about me.”
“I couldn’t.” Tears coursed down her cheeks.
“Be careful with Eli. I realize what you’re trying to do, but you’re playing with fire.”
“I’ll take care.”
“You know that oak that’s been sawed in half, leaving the inside empty?
She nodded.
“I’ll leave you messages there. Check every day, okay? If you don’t hear from me for two days straight, call in the Feds. That means I’m most likely dead, and our cover’s been blown. My turn at watching the still will be over soon, and I’ll be able to come home for a few days. I’ll be there for turkey day.” He kissed the top of her head, released her, and then melted into the woods.
The urgency in her pa’s voice kept the fear pulsing through Phoebe’s veins. At the same time, relief flooded her that he still lived. She turned back to the house. Jacob’s silhouette appeared in the lit back door. Would he help her? She’d find a way of asking after she got rid of Eli.
“I need to talk to you.” She squeezed past Jacob into the house. “In a bit. It’s important.”
She stopped in front of Eli. “It’s time to go. I’ll walk you out.”
He frowned. “Kind of early, ain’t it?”
“I’m worn out from the cooking and baking, and you’re children are waiting on you. Your daughter’s barely old enough to care for herself much less her siblings.” She forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He rose and kissed her cheek. Phoebe fought not to shrink back, instead enduring the scratch of his whiskers and the stench of his cigar-scented breath. Once he’d left, she nodded at Jacob and headed again to the back of the house. She took a deep breath, folded her hands, and began.
“My pa spoke to me when I was out here earlier. He’s fine, but involved in something dangerous. I aim to help him.” She lifted her chin and focused on the shadows of Jacob’s face. “Eli is involved somehow. That’s why I’m allowing his attention. I need to gain his trust.”
Jacob grinned. “I thought it was something like that.”
“I’m asking for your help, Jacob. The only way my pa will let me assist him, is if there is someone I can trust to look out for me.”
It warmed her heart that he didn’t hesitate to help in any way she needed. Had God ever made a finer man than Jacob Wright?
“I’ll help in whatever way you see fit. But the idea makes me nervous. With me and Eli both courting you, I’ll be around the same as him. What, exactly, is your father trying to do?”
Phoebe shrugged. “Take down a passel of moonshiners single-handedly, it looks like.”
9
The ground sparkled with ice. The last of the leaves lay withered and dry beneath the crust. Phoebe took a deep breath; the air cutting in its coldness. She pulled a tattered wool coat around her and stomped to where JJ and the rest of the family waited in the wagon.
Viola proudly held a lopsided chocolate cake in her lap while Grandma cradled Phoebe’s famed carrot one. The smile hadn’t left her face since Phoebe told her about Pa working for the REA. Grandma seemed to think money would no longer be hard to get. That, with the coming of electricity, came the means to riches. How would she respond when she found out it was a lie?
Phoebe shuddered from more than the cold. The dreaded cake and pie sell-off was after church. Having to eat lunch with whatever man bought your baked goods seemed ridiculous to her. She shrugged. The money would go toward buying new hymn books for the church. She didn’t want to be a hindrance to a worthy cause.
She cast a glance at the darkening sky, and thanked God the bake-off would be held in the Tuckers’ barn. Her leg ached when chilled and today’s temperature went straight to the bone. There’d be snow before the day was through, and JJ would be hunting their Thanksgiving turkey in it tomorrow.
Climbing onto the buckboard, she flicked the reins and wished for an automobile. She’d never ridden in one, but the pictures she’d seen made them look warmer than a horse-drawn wagon, and a smoother ride besides. She clicked her tongue and they clopped the five miles to church. The sight of Jacob and Eli waiting in front of the white building, made her want to keep moving.
Grandma laughed. “Those two are making spectacles of themselves. Pick one and put them out of their misery. I’ll help you when we get home. We’ll write their names on slips of paper and stuff them in your bodice. You’ll dream of your future husband tonight. I guarantee it.”
She already did without the benefit of superstition. It was Jacob’s face that filled her thoughts while sleeping.
Viola scoffed. “I don’t know why they’re focusing on Phoebe. I’m prettier than she is.”
“Depends on who’s doing the looking. Anyway, pretty is as pretty does.” Grandma handed Phoebe her cake then waited for JJ to help her down. “Careful or folks might see deep inside you and see things you don’t want them to.”
Viola narrowed her eyes at Phoebe then waited for JJ to turn to her. Grandma rushed off to tell her friends about her son getting a job with the REA. Phoebe cringed. Folks would expect to see electrical wires before long, and her pa would have to come up with another falsehood to cover his tracks.
It didn’t take long for most of the eligible young men of the hollow to swarm around Viola once her feet hit the ground. Her giggle drifted across the cold air on wisps of smoky exhalation when she breathed.
Phoebe sighed and glanced back to where the two men competing for her hand stood. Jacob dashed forward and took the cake from her hands, trying to peek beneath the lid. She slapped his hands away. “You aren’t supposed to know which one is mine.”
He leaned closer. “What if I say your Grandma told me?”
“Then you’d better come up with a plan to keep Eli from buying it. He’s probably got more money laying around than you do.” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder and strode into the building. He’d cared enough to find out what kind of cake she’d brought. Oh, please, Lord, let Jacob be the one to buy it.
The temperature inside the church rose several degrees as the parishioners crowded inside. Several people exclaimed over Phoebe’s lack of a limp, and her face heated. The burn continued as Jacob and Eli sat on each side of her on the polished wooden pew. Several sets of eyes glanced i
n their direction. Women’s eyebrows rose. Men snickered behind beards or moustaches. Phoebe crossed her arms and slouched.
They rose, sang some hymns, and then sat again. Eli’s and Jacob’s closeness made Phoebe claustrophobic. She struggled to concentrate on the pastor’s words of thanksgiving, even during the difficult times the hollow would face during the years of the Depression.
She was grateful. For a lot of things. The ability to walk without a limp, her father being alive, Jacob’s attention, food on the table, and a few dollars stashed in a mason jar under the porch. But the fear and worry over what she’d volunteered to do to help her father cast a shadow over the brightness of her blessings.
Life always seemed to hold something better right out of her reach. Like a carrot dangled in front of horse. She didn’t want a big fancy house or a life of lying around pampering herself, but some easing of burdens would be nice. Maybe she should stop reading so many books. They filled her head with things she couldn’t have.
Her gaze flicked to Jacob’s strong profile. There were things close at hand that were every bit as wonderful. A man as handsome and romantic as what a girl could find between the pages of a book. She glanced at Eli and stifled a giggle. And a villain as nasty.
He caught her looking and scowled. “Pay attention to the sermon. You’re a grown woman, Phoebe. Not a squirmy child.”
A man worried about behavior in a church building that made a living running moonshine. Who would’ve thought? Phoebe forced a smile to her face and lowered her eyes.
Jacob nudged her knee with his, brightening Phoebe’s spirits. Although secret, their mutual fondness lit her world with a ray of sunshine brighter than any star that burned over the mountain. She’d chosen who she wanted for a husband. His name was Jacob.
*
The women’s pies and cakes spread across a table-cloth covered plank of wood set across sawhorses. Flavors of every type enticed the single men to lay down their hard-earned money for the opportunity to have lunch with a pretty girl. If he hadn’t been told a head of time, Jacob wouldn’t have known which cake to pick.
It would’ve been easy to pick Viola’s. Every man in the place seemed to know which was hers, and crowded around that end of the table. Jacob stood off to one side, not wanting to point to Eli which one was Phoebe’s. He should’ve thought to tell her to make a fallen, bad tasting one. Then he’d be the only bidder.
The pastor stepped behind the table and pointed at the first item for bid. A double-layer vanilla. Jacob bid ten cents. Eli bid twenty. Jacob smiled and waited for the next one.
As the game progressed, Jacob’s smile grew wider and Eli’s face redder. Jacob’s pockets lightened, along with the other man’s, and he prayed he’d whittled Eli down enough that he could win the bid on Phoebe’s concoction. He checked his money. Two dollars. It would have to be enough. Only two cakes remained.
The pastor moved to Phoebe’s cake. Jacob glanced at Eli and grinned. Eli yelled twenty-five cents.
“Thirty.” Jacob raised his hand.
“Forty.”
“Fifty.” Jacob winked at Phoebe who twisted the bottom of her sweater in her hands.
Eli slapped his hat against his thigh. “One dollar! Ain’t no city boy going to outbid me.”
The room grew silent as those attending the bid transferred their attention to the rivalry at the front of the room. Jacob motioned for a dollar fifty.
“Where you getting that kind of money, boy?” Eli pulled out his pockets and counted his cash. “A dollar sixty-five is it. You’re taking food out of my babies’ mouths.”
Jacob strolled to the front of the room. “A dollar seventy-five, and the cake is mine.” He waited for Eli to say something, while hoping he wouldn’t. Eli shoved his hat on his head and stormed out the door.
The smile on Phoebe’s face was worth the money. Jacob lifted the cake and motioned his head toward a smaller table set up with two chairs. She nodded and followed.
“I got a little nervous for a minute,” she said as Jacob pulled out her chair.
He laughed. “You and me both. But my plan worked like a charm.” He sat across from her. “These types of things are the safest way for me to see you without Eli going berserk.”
Phoebe cut two slices of the cake. “How’s school?”
“Surprisingly good. Attendance stays regular, except for the Coffman kids and one or two others.” He accepted the piece she gave him. “And we’re off this week for Thanksgiving. I’m organizing a Christmas program. I’d like you to sing and play.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t do that in public.”
“Why not? You’re good.” Jacob stuck his fork of cake in his mouth and tasted heaven. “But not as good as this cake.”
She laughed. The sound as musical and beautiful as a babbling brook. It’s infectious sound made Jacob join in. The first time he heard her was over a piece of cake. He made a vow to hear her laugh more often.
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes twinkled. Jacob couldn’t remember seeing a more beautiful woman. His gaze flicked to where Viola held court with a dark-haired young man. The younger sister’s attractiveness didn’t hold a candle in his opinion. Her hazel eyes, though wide and innocent looking, couldn’t compare to the intensity of Phoebe’s. The rosebud mouth might be considered alluring if not kept in a perpetual pout. No, Phoebe was the woman he wanted to see when he went to sleep each evening and especially when he woke each morning.
The murmurs and chuckles of other couples filled the barn with a sense of gaiety. One side of the barn held tables for the men and their baker. On the other, families and married partners sat on bales of hay and ate their simple lunches.
Gone was the cloud of oppression hanging over Jacob’s head from his travels across an impoverished country. The guilt over the death of a young woman showed signs of leaving.
Tucked away in a little known hollow in the Ozarks, life continued much the same as it had for centuries. Modern conveniences showed here and there, like the phone at Dixon’s store, or the trucks running the back logging roads. If not for the moonshine issue, peace prevailed in the little town, and Jacob found himself wanting to be a permanent part of it. Wanderlust no longer had a grip on him.
“Jacob?”
“I’m sorry.”
Phoebe crossed her arms. “Am I so boring you need to stare into space?”
“Not at all.” He took the last bite of his dessert. “I’ve realized how much I like Pine Ridge, and want to stay.” He placed a hand on her arm. “Especially with you by my side.”
“I’d like that.”
“So, you choose me?”
Her cheeks turned the prettiest pink he’d ever seen. “Yes.”
“Let’s tell Eli.”
Her smile faded. “We can’t. Not yet. Not until I’ve helped my father.”
“But I can protect you as your fiancée.”
“I’ve got to let Eli believe he still has a chance. He needs to trust me, Jacob. Then he will lead me to where the main still is.”
“We found the still.”
She shook her head. “That one isn’t big enough. Not by a long shot. It couldn’t possibly provide enough whiskey for flatbed trucks. That’s an independent still. A lot of folks up here have them.”
Jacob scratched his head. “I’ve never heard of something this large. Prohibition should have ended it.”
“But it didn’t.” Phoebe covered the cake and rose. “Walk me out. I’m yours until we reach the wagon.”
“Then let’s walk real slow.” He tucked her free arm in the crook of his elbow.
Her rising must have been the clue for the rest of the family because the kids stampeded outside. Grandma rose from her gaggle of friends, and Viola hooked her hand through the arm of the young man she’d eaten with.
Phoebe smiled into Jacob’s face as he led her outside. They stopped and Jacob blinked against the brightness of the sun on a light layer of snow. Marring the pristine surface stood Eli with
his shotgun aimed at Jacob’s chest.
A shot rang out.
10
Jacob dove, taking Phoebe to the ground with him. Her breath whooshed past his cheek as she grunted. His side burned like someone stuck a hot match to it. The cake plate shattered, splattering them with frosting. A shard of glass drove itself into Jacob’s hand.
He cupped Phoebe’s face with his uninjured hand and stared into her eyes to make sure she was okay before he struggled to his feet. With a howl, he rushed Eli, striking the man with his shoulder and driving him into a tree. Two other men grabbed Jacob and pulled him off. He tried yanking free but the rush of adrenaline began to subside, letting him feel the pain of his wound.
“Are you crazy?!” The man’s whiskey soaked breath washed over Jacob’s face. “You shot me and could’ve killed somebody.”
“The only person I want dead is you.” Eli shoved against Jacob’s chest. “If I hadn’t had a drink, you’d be six feet under by tomorrow.”
Jacob rose and hauled the man to his feet. “Go home, Eli. You’re drunk.” He yanked the shotgun out of his hands. “I’ll return this when you get control of yourself.”
He backed up, keeping an eye on the inebriated man until Eli cursed and stumbled down the road. Jacob lowered the shotgun and sagged against the tree.
“You’re bleeding.” Phoebe shoved aside his coat. “JJ send for the doctor.” Her brother dashed away.
Jacob’s knees trembled. “I’m fine. It’s just a graze.”
“You’ve got glass in your hand and blood soaking your clothes. You are not fine. I’m taking you home.”
“Best words I’ve heard in a long time.” He grinned.
“Stop funnin’ me, Jacob. Get in the wagon.”
“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?” He tossed the shotgun in the back and climbed in beside the kids. Adrenaline wearing off, fatigue set in. He leaned against the side and closed his eyes.
“Don’t die on me, Jacob.” Phoebe yawed to the horses and slapped the reins.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Every jolt and bounce sent waves of agony through him. Despite the frigid temperature, perspiration beaded on his forehead. How in the world had he managed to take Eli to the ground?
Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series Page 76
