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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Opening his eyes required strength he didn’t have. Worry and rage over the possibility of Phoebe being killed had driven him past the pain. Even if the bullet had struck something vital, he’d have done the same thing. As long as he drew breath he’d save her with whatever strength God gave him.

  “He’s turning white.” Noel poked him in the chest. “I think he’s already dead.”

  “Did the bullet make a hole?” Grandma twisted around and peered at him.

  Noel lifted Jacob’s shirt. “Naw, just a groove, but it’s bleeding something fierce.”

  “Darn. I’ve got a new silk handkerchief we could have pulled through a hole. Would’ve healed him right up. Nothing to do for a groove but stitch it and wait.”

  Jacob sucked in a breath. “I’m not dead. Just frozen.” And he’d die before letting her pull anything through a hole of his. Before he knew it, he found himself pressed upon by every member of the Lillie family besides Grandma and Phoebe. The warmth of their bodies lulled him to sleep.

  The wagon lurched to a halt. Jacob opened his eyes and allowed the children to help him from the wagon bed. Grandma shuffled through the door ahead of them.

  “Viola, bring in your pa’s cot.” She reached above the mantel and grabbed a metal box. Inside sat a brown resin looking lump beside a pipe. “Shave off a bit of this and let him chew it. He’ll feel good until the doctor gets here.”

  “What is it?” Jacob chewed his bottom lip.

  “Gum opium. Take off your shirt. Noel, get me the kerosene.”

  Viola returned with the single-size bed and shoved it against the wall. Jacob collapsed on his back, his feet hanging off the end. Grandma cut a chunk of opium the size of a pea.

  “I’m not letting you put that in my mouth.” He bolted upright, glancing at Phoebe for help.

  She smiled. “It will make you feel better, Jacob.”

  “I’m sure it will.” He peeled off his shirt. With his prior addiction to alcohol, he didn’t dare succumb to drugs no matter who gave them to him.

  Grandma placed a hand on his shoulder, pushed him back onto the cot, took the bottle from Viola, then poured it over his wound. A thousand fire ants ate through him.

  “Whoa.” He jerked back to a sitting position. “Please, can we wait for the doctor? Or at least use whiskey to cleanse?”

  “Whiskey costs more. I’ve healed more people in more years than you’ve lived, boy.” Grandma poured more kerosene into the wound, renewing the burning. “But I ain’t stitching you up. Don’t worry.”

  Jacob hitched his breath then released it in a sigh. He’d been crazy to move to such a backwoods place. Didn’t these people know opium was against the law? Much less shooting people. “Why aren’t we calling the sheriff?”

  “You ain’t dead, boy.” Grandma gathered up her supplies. “Eli didn’t mean any harm. He’s just smarting because Phoebe seems to enjoy your company more than his. He wouldn’t have shot you if he’d been sober. No need to call the law. They got bigger fish to fry down in the city.”

  *

  Phoebe laughed as Jacob argued with Grandma. She shook her head. Jacob acted like he’d never been doctored at home before. His grumbling reassured her he’d be all right, and she turned her attentions to planning dinner.

  Before the blond-headed giant arrived on their doorstep, weeks would go by before the sound of joy escaped her lips. Now, it bubbled inside her and escaped like water from the soda springs.

  Sitting down with him for a slice of cake at church had almost seemed like they were married. Facing him across a table every night wouldn’t be a hardship. Not with his looks or his unthinking willingness to help anyone in need. Her grandmother pinned the man correctly on the night he’d arrived. An angel sent straight from heaven to help the Lillie family.

  JJ burst through the door followed by Doctor Fox, a big burly man with a face red from a love of whiskey. Dr. Fox headed straight to the cot.

  Jacob leaned on one elbow. “Thank the Lord. Grandma Lillie poured kerosene in me and tried to get me to chew a chunk of opium.”

  The doctor’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Kerosene won’t hurt, and when I start stitching, you’ll most likely wish you’d chewed the opium. I’ve nothing to numb you with but that or whiskey.”

  “I beg to differ on the kerosene, Doc. It hurt quite a bit. As for the whiskey and opium, I’d rather grit my teeth and bear it.”

  “Suit yourself.” The doctor opened his black bag and bent over Jacob.

  Phoebe stepped to his side in case the man needed help. “Hold my hand, Jacob.”

  He slipped his hand in hers. “I feel better already.”

  “Always the flirt, Mr. Wright.”

  “Honest.” He clinched his jaw with the first thrust of the needle and squeezed Phoebe’s hand tight enough to grind her bones together. Together, they hissed like a couple of spitting cats.

  When the doctor finished, he handed Jacob a bottle of pills. “For infection. Stay in bed for a few days, and you’ll be able to run around again after Thanksgiving.” He winked. “Next time someone shoots you, don’t tackle them to the ground. You did more damage than good.”

  Jacob laughed. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Phoebe patted his shoulder. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when supper’s done.”

  She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stepped outside. With the sun setting, the temperature dropped. Her breath plumed out from her mouth like dragon’s fire.

  Phoebe leaned against the side of the smoke shed and stared into the night sky. Could she pluck a star from the sky? If she could, she’d give it to Jacob, declare her love for him, and tell Eli Coffman to jump in the lake.

  She hadn’t been afraid when the shot rang out. Gunfire was something you heard a lot on the mountain. But when she’d seen the blood spreading through Jacob’s coat, her heart had stopped. It didn’t matter that he’d fought Eli afterward. She’d seen herself how a bear can keep running after taking a bullet. It’s when the body stops long enough for the mind to register the damage that matters. Some men have been shot, continued the fight, and then dropped dead once the pain registered.

  Remembering Jacob’s shocked expression when Grandma started caring for him, Phoebe smiled. City folk. Most of the homegrown mountain remedies worked just fine.

  She loved the fact he’d be around for a few days. Grandma wouldn’t let him go back to his house no matter how much he whined. The woman loved having someone to care for. The Lillie children didn’t count much anymore. All but Maggie could take care of themselves, unless sick or hurt.

  “Phoebe.”

  She jerked. “Pa? You’ve got to stop sneaking up and scaring me like that.”

  He stepped from around the corner of the shed. “I heard someone got shot.”

  “Just a graze. Jacob Wright, the new teacher, won my cake in a bid against Eli. Eli didn’t take the news well.” Phoebe laughed.

  “You could’ve been killed.”

  “He was drunk. He didn’t mean anything.”

  Her pa ran his hands through his hair. “It’s the Devil’s brew, Phoebe. That’s why I’ve got to put a stop to it. It’s tearing this hollow apart.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “Why you, Pa?”

  “Because the men trust me. I’m one of them. An outsider wouldn’t get close.”

  “How involved is Eli?”

  “Right smack in the middle.” He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “There’s something I want you to do. Tomorrow morning, go to Dixon’s store. Tell that old coot about the teacher being shot. Tell him we’re out of the whiskey we use for medicine and ask if you can buy a pint. I’ll check with you in the evening to see whether you were successful.”

  “Dixon doesn’t sell that at his store.”

  “I’m not sure if he does or not. If he says no, ask for the cough syrup in the red jar. That’s the stuff.” Her pa kissed her cheek and dashed back into the woods.

  Phoebe shook
her head and unlatched the shed door. She hacked off a chunk of ham, locked things up tight, then headed back to the house. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t her pa know whether Dixon sold the stuff or not? Was he trying to trick the man?

  She decided that was it. He wanted to know who was doing the right thing in Pine Ridge through the process of elimination. Her steps quickened. Finally, something constructive she could do to help.

  Jacob’s snores greeted her when she stepped into the warmth of the cabin. The children played quietly in front of the fire, while Grandma darned socks.

  Phoebe dropped the ham in a pan of simmering beans and went to check on Jacob. She laid the back of her hand across his forehead. Cool.

  “Stop drooling over the man.” Viola tossed a ball of yarn she’d rolled into the basket at her feet. “Just because he knocked you down, doesn’t mean he cares for you. Jacob is the type of man that would take a bullet for anyone.”

  “And I suppose you wish he would’ve taken one for you.” Phoebe put her fists on her hips. “Men swarm around you like bees to honey. Why do you think you have to have Jacob too?” She blinked against the tears stinging her eyes and knelt beside the cot.

  Jacob’s eyes fluttered open and he laid a hand over hers. “Viola doesn’t stand a chance, Phoebe. You’ve already stolen my heart.” With a deep breath, he went back to sleep.

  He’d spoken the words so softly Phoebe thought maybe he hadn’t said them at all. Maybe they’d been a dream she wanted so badly, she imagined them. A quick glance at Viola’s cherry-red face soothed her fear. She smiled and laid her cheek against his hand.

  11

  “Where are you going?”

  Phoebe paused with one hand on the door and turned toward Jacob. “To Dixon’s store.”

  “Wait. I’ll go with you.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “You’re supposed to rest. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “I don’t want you out alone with Eli running loose.”

  “If anything, Eli will apologize. He doesn’t pose a threat to me.” Phoebe squared her shoulders and stepped outside. If she stayed any longer, Jacob would know she lied. People always told her that whatever she felt showed on her face. She was nothing more than an open book.

  Icy branches cracked over head as Phoebe set off down the road. Despite the cold, she chose to walk. It gave her the chance to think.

  When she’d vowed to help her father, she hadn’t known she’d be an errand girl. The monotony of her life left her craving the action she read about in books. She could shoot as well as her brother. With her fixed shoe, she could move as quickly as the next person. And her brain worked faster than most around the hollow.

  A cardinal flew overhead, its scarlet plumage startling against the tree’s bare branches. Despite the harshness of life in the hollow, beauty still resounded. Phoebe needed to remind herself every day. Life got better. Jacob’s arrival proved that. At least it provided light in her dreary life.

  By the time she arrived at the store, the brisk air had invigorated her. She smiled at the two men just inside the door. With the cold weather, whittling was set aside and they hunched over a checker board in front of a wood burning stove. They nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to their game.

  “Phoebe.” Dixon clapped his hands together. “What can I get for you?”

  She sidled up to the counter and in a low voice, said, “We’re out of our medicinal whiskey. The teacher was shot yesterday.”

  “I heard that sad news, but we don’t sell whiskey here.”

  “What about the stuff in the red jars?” She winked.

  “You got something in your eye, sweetie?” Dixon scratched his chin. “I’ve got baking soda in red cans, but that’s it. Are you sure you’re thinking about the right stuff? Don’t you know where your pa buys his moonshine?”

  Phoebe straightened and shook her head. “I was hoping you did.”

  “Sorry. If I was to sell it here, the Feds would shut me down.” He leaned across the counter. “Knock on any neighbor’s door. My bet is nine out of ten of them have some or can tell you where to get it. Hope Mr. Wright is up and about soon. It won’t do to have our teacher down.”

  “It’s just a flesh wound. He’ll be fine.” Phoebe captured her bottom lip between her teeth. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and moved outside.

  One of the men followed. “Miss Lillie.”

  “Mr. Owens.” She turned to face the husky man in faded overalls and patched flannel hunting jacket.

  “I’ve got some in my wagon over there. A dollar ninety-five a pint.” His bloodshot eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t get it from me.”

  Phoebe swallowed hard and slipped two dollars from her pocket. “I swear.” Did Pa actually want her to buy some if Dixon couldn’t provide? She handed over the money. The man would be suspicious if she changed her mind now. Not to mention, he gave her the creeps. His eyes traveled over her with the speed of a snail. She shuddered and wished for a hot bath.

  He sneered and pocketed the cash then handed her a mason jar of clear liquid. “You won’t find better anywhere in these parts.” Mr. Owens spun on his heel and headed into the store.

  Wonderful. Phoebe glanced around and hoped no one would see her clutching an armful of illegal brew. She opened her coat, stuffed the jar inside, and zipped up around it. All the way home, its sloshing reminded her of what she carried. She’d never had the unpleasant task before. There always seemed to be a jar in the pantry. She’d never questioned how it got there.

  Phoebe halted in her front yard and watched as Noel pushed Peter in a tree swing. She needed to leave Pa a note, but sneaking to the back of the house and into the woods would alert the younger boys’ curiosity. They’d be sure to follow. She sighed and pushed open the front door.

  “Where you been?” Grandma waved a wooden spoon in her direction. “I don’t mind getting breakfast for the family, but a little warning would be nice. Instead, I’m shook awake by children whining.”

  “I’m sorry. I took a walk.” Phoebe climbed the loft to her bed, avoiding Jacob’s gaze.

  “A walk? Must be nice to have a life of leisure. Taking a nice stroll before chores. Today’s wash day too. You know it’s going to take a while since the sun’s hiding behind them clouds.” Grandma’s grumbling followed her as she shoved the pint beneath her cot and tossed a dirty dress on top of it. Having a family her size didn’t allow for privacy. She’d have to find a way to get out of the house after dark.

  She rushed to her grandmother’s side and washed the dishes from breakfast. Prior experiences from childhood told her she’d have to skip the morning meal. If you aren’t there to eat on time, you don’t eat. In Grandma’s word, the Lillie household wasn’t a fancy mansion with servants to wait on a person hand and foot.

  Jacob shifted on his cot. Phoebe tossed aside her rag and rushed over to place a hand on his forehead. Cool. She smiled. The city man had more spunk then she’d thought. She brushed a curl away from his face. Had he really said she possessed his heart? Could a man this beautiful love a girl from the hills?

  *

  Jacob remained still and enjoyed the feel of Phoebe’s hand on his skin. Soft as a feather and as soothing as a summer rain. He fought to keep a smile from his lips. If she knew he faked sleeping, she’d raise the roof. Someday, her Irish temper would get her in trouble. Hopefully, he’d be able to save the day, riding in on a chocolate-covered mule like a tarnished knight.

  A great sense of emptiness fell on him when she rose and moved away. Fool. He should’ve opened his eyes. Then she would’ve stayed and talked. No, he needed to allow her to finish her work. Then maybe she’d keep him company.

  He peeked through his lashes. She stood at the sink drying plates as Grandma washed. His gaze traveled from her shapely calves to slender waist to thick hair. What a feast for the eyes God made when he crafted Phoebe Lillie. Jacob sighed.

  She turned and wrapped the dish towel around he
r neck before hurrying to his side. “Are you in pain, Jacob?”

  “No.” He grinned. “Just enjoying the view.”

  “Stop.” She whipped the towel from around her neck and popped him in the leg. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “And you’re injuring a wounded man.” He reached for her hand and pulled her to sit beside him. “What’s your response to my statement last night?”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?” Her gaze flicked to where Grandma disappeared out the back door.

  “About you stealing my heart.”

  Her face reddened. “It made me feel good.”

  “But?”

  “There’s the problem of Eli.” She twisted the hem of her apron with her free hand. “And Viola.”

  “Not really. We’re both openly courting you, and Viola needs to pester some other guy. I want to move past the dating phase and right into a serious relationship. But as far as anyone else is concerned, you haven’t decided between me and Eli.” Did he move too fast? Although Phoebe seemed to have the strength of iron, she was as skittish as a rabbit. Her self-esteem was lower than a frog’s belly.

  Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You want a relationship with me?”

  Jacob squeezed her hand. “Not like that. I want to marry you, Phoebe Lillie. I want to shout it from the mountaintop. I know you’re helping your father right now and Eli plays into that. I’ll wait.”

  Her breath shuddered. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to be your wife. It is soon, Jacob. What if you don’t want to stay in the hollow? This is my home. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  He leaned back against the pillows. The lure of a home outweighed the wanderlust he’d held on to for the last five years. A wife and children beckoned him to stay. Then another woman’s face reared to the forefront of his mind. A blond porcelain-skinned stranger.

  He’d been responsible for her death as sure as if he’d pulled the trigger that stopped her heart. He hadn’t jumped in front of a bullet that time. Whiskey had dulled his reflexes, and the city streetwalker fell in a pool of her own blood, all because of the five dollars in Jacob’s pocket. She’d been the first to die because of his gun.