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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Her bottom lip had been split. Blood dried in the corner. One eye was swollen twice its size, and he doubted she’d be able to open it when she woke. A bruised lump rose on her cheek. Her sweater hung in tatters. His gaze traveled over the rest of her as he examined the torn and stained dress.

  He’d kill the man with his bare hands.

  “He didn’t take her, did he?” Tears spilled from JJ’s eyes.

  Jacob shook his head. His voice trembled. “I don’t know.” He didn’t see any reason to tell the boy what he believed to be the truth. “Run for the doctor, would you?”

  He darted out the door before Jacob lifted his head. “Grandma, could you fetch a rag and cool water?”

  “Already done.” The woman handed him a pan. “You wash her face. I’ll take care of her arms and legs. That beast took what only a husband should have, didn’t he?”

  Jacob nodded, and brushed the tears from his face. “Where’s Viola?”

  Her gaze pierced his. “She ain’t come home since JJ left to look for his sister.”

  Jacob shrugged. He’d find out what she meant about things being her fault when she returned.

  Phoebe groaned when he touched the scrap of soaked cotton to her swollen eye. She reached up and tried to push him away.

  Jacob captured her hand in his. “Don’t, honey. You’ve been hurt.”

  “Eli.” Her words sounded hoarse.

  “Don’t talk now. We’ll ask you questions later.” When the sight of her bruised body no longer caused him to clinch his fists with a need to punch someone, and the desire to kill left him. Then, he might be in the right frame of mind to talk.

  She gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. “Eli got angry because I kissed you.”

  “How would he know about that?”

  “I told him.” Viola’s sobs shook her shoulders. “I got mad and thought telling him would be a good way to get back at Phoebe.” She turned her red-rimmed eyes to Jacob. “I never thought he’d do this. Honest. He told me he loves her.”

  Jacob gritted his teeth hard enough to send a sharp pain through his temple. The girl’s stupid jealousy could’ve gotten Phoebe killed.

  “Get out of my sight.” He spit the words between tight lips. “We’ll talk more about this later. Make yourself useful and go take care of the little ones.”

  She choked back another cry and whirled to do his bidding. Her younger siblings sat the kitchen table, tears streaming silently down their cheeks. Jacob gave Viola another glare before turning back to Phoebe.

  “I’ll kill him. I swear I will.” He continued swabbing her face.

  “Get in line, young man.” The door slammed shut. “I’m Ben Lillie, and this is my house. I’ll see that justice is done. Who did this to my girl?”

  Jacob jumped to his feet. “Eli Coffman, sir.” The man stood close to six feet, only an inch above Jacob’s height. His brown beard held bits of dry leaves. A strong odor of yeast emanated from him. Sticking out of the bib of the man’s overalls was the handle of a sawed-off shotgun, a hog’s leg, the mountain people called the gun.

  “Where’s JJ?”

  “I sent him for the doctor.”

  Ben nodded then knelt beside his daughter. “Phoebe, I’m here. I’ll take care of this for you.”

  “No, Pa.” She tried to rise to one elbow and fell back.

  Jacob squeezed past her father, ignoring the man’s stern look. “Stay still.”

  “I can’t help if you kill him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ben took off his floppy hat and slapped it against his leg.

  “Putting away the moonshiners.” She peered at him through one eye. “I have to continue to play along so you can find out who’s behind it. So we can clean up the hollow.”

  “Look what he’s done to you. He took something precious from you.” Ben pulled a deep breath through his nose. “The man’s crazy to lift a hand against you. If you don’t want me to kill him, then I’ll make sure he wishes he was dead.” He pushed to his feet. “I’ll have him looking every bit as colorful as you do.”

  “I’d like to go too, Mr. Lillie.” Jacob squared his shoulders and stuck out a hand. “Jacob Wright, at your service.”

  “Didn’t the pip squeak already shoot you once?”

  “Just a graze.”

  Ben nodded. “You the one my girl loves?”

  “I hope so.” Jacob cast a glance at Phoebe.

  “All right. You can hold me back from actually killing the man. Make sure I don’t do something that will land me in jail. Viola, you come on. Someone will need to watch his children while I pound on him.”

  With one more glance at Phoebe, Jacob followed her father out the door. They walked in silence, the only sound was the fall of their footsteps on the road. A muscle twitched in Ben’s jaw. Jacob fought back the urge to ask the man where’d he’d been for the last few weeks and how he found out about Phoebe’s beating.

  A mixed-breed dog bayed at their approach, and Eli stepped onto his porch, cradling a shotgun. “Down from the mountain, Ben?”

  “Got me some business to tend to.” With slow movements, Ben pulled the hog’s leg from his bib. Jacob shot out a hand to stop him. Ben shrugged him off and propped the gun against a tree. “Viola, scoot into the house.”

  Eli stepped aside and allowed her access before dropping his weapon.

  “What possessed you to lay a hand on my Phoebe?” Ben crossed his arms.

  Eli shrugged. “She’s my intended and kissed another man. Now, ain’t no other man that will want her.”

  Jacob stepped forward. “I want her.”

  This time, Ben stopped him. “I ain’t heard no words of y’all marrying. You haven’t asked my blessing.”

  “Didn’t see no need. She’s a grown woman.” Eli leaned against a post. “Before I take her as my wife, she needs to learn her place.”

  “So you left her, injured and unconscious, lying in the cold beneath a bush?” Jacob clinched his fists. If Ben didn’t charge soon, he’d lose his chance to Jacob.

  “Can’t show weakness.”

  Ben charged with a roar. The impact of his body drove Eli into the porch railing with a crack as sharp as gunfire. The sound of pummeling fists drowned out anything else. Viola’s pale face shone from the window.

  Jacob hovered over the men thrashing on the ground. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to join in the melee. It was clear, Ben would emerge the victor, but Eli’s wiry strength kept the fight going longer than Jacob had anticipated. When Eli bent over and spit out a tooth, Jacob intervened and dragged Ben off him.

  “He’s had enough.”

  Ben wiped a bloody lip on his sleeve. “You touch my daughter in any way that isn’t cherishing again, and I’ll kill you.” He grinned. “But I doubt she’ll let you get close to her now. Mayhap she puts a bullet in you herself. Come on, Viola.” He grabbed his hat from where it had fallen and headed up the road.

  Eli laughed. “Don’t forget who you work for, Benjamin Lillie.”

  14

  Phoebe brushed her fingertips over the bruises on her face. Her right eye was still swollen, although it had opened a slit. Her lip hurt when she talked or laughed, so for several days, she’d done neither. The only good thing to come out of Eli’s rape was that Pa tended to stay close to home.

  Tears threatened. Phoebe sniffed. She also avoided Jacob, and that hurt more than the cuts and marks from Eli’s attempt to lay claim to her. The man might have taken her body, he might have temporarily taken her spirit, but he would never take her heart. Although her love for Jacob hadn’t dimmed a bit, she knew he couldn’t want her now. Not out of anything but pity.

  “I’m so sorry.” Viola stared up at her from the bed. “I had no idea this would happen.”

  Phoebe drew breath sharply through her nose. “This is what jealousy does.” She turned so her sister could get a good long look. “I’m trying not to let my heart harden toward you, but right now, I can’t bear
to lay eyes on you. You who have it all.

  “Men follow after you like dogs after a bitch in heat. Yet you couldn’t let me have this one thing. All I’ve done is work for this family. Care for you young’uns. This is the reward I get.” She grabbed her shawl from the hook, not caring when it caught and ripped. The sound was like the sound of her heart breaking. “I hope you’re happy.”

  She closed her ears to the sound of her sister’s sobs. It had taken all her strength to lie in bed while the traitor lay next to her. Well, no more. She would take up Pa’s rifle and keep working at clearing the mountain of illegal moonshine. At least of the magnitude that was going on right then.

  She’d grown up with whiskey on the gums of a teething baby or poured open a wound to disinfect, but what was happening on the mountain was way past anything they’d had happen before. Someone would end up dead before it came to an end, and she’d do everything in her power to make sure it wasn’t one of her family members.

  Without acknowledging Grandma or Pa, Phoebe took the rifle from the mantel and stormed out the front door. Feet pounded behind her.

  “Where you going, girl?” Pa stopped on the top step of the porch.

  “To get me a coon, where do you think?” She whirled and glared.

  “I took care of him. He won’t be bothering you. You can’t go shoot a man in cold blood, sweetheart.” Pa walked slowly toward her, his gaze on hers, one hand stretched to take the rifle. “I would have killed him myself if not for the teacher.”

  Phoebe sagged to the ground and let her sobs overtake her. “He won’t want me now.”

  Pa knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms like he used to do when she was a child. “He says he does. Told Eli he did. Now, he don’t seem like a liar to me.” Pa rocked back and forth. “You’re the same sweet Phoebe you was yesterday.”

  “I’m not.” She rubbed her face against his coat, breathing in the familiar scents of tobacco and wood smoke. “I’m harder and broken, all at the same time.”

  “God can heal you.”

  “God has forgotten about me.”

  Pa pulled her to her feet. “Come on into the house, daughter. Let’s get some food in your belly and then you put your feet up and work on that purty quilt by the fire. We’ll all take care of anything else. You deserve a rest.”

  “I missed you, Pa.” She slipped her arms around his waist.

  “I ain’t going anywhere.”

  She hoped not. A girl had her limits, and at the age of nineteen, Phoebe had reached hers.

  *

  Jacob rode his mule past the Lillie place. Everything in him wanted to stop and check on Phoebe, but Ben had sent word to let her have some time. Half a mile down the road, he spotted Viola duck into the woods, a cardboard suitcase in her hand.

  Not wanting the girl to race away before he could see what she was up to, Jacob slid from the mule’s back and tied the reins to a tree. He followed in the direction Viola had gone until she appeared again in a small clearing. She ran into the waiting arms of John Wood.

  What was the girl up to now? He ducked behind a juniper bush.

  “Where are we going?” Viola handed her case to John.

  “We’ll get hitched in Compton, then come back to live with my folks, what did you think?” John shook his head. “I ain’t got no money. All I have is the family dirt, unless you want me making moonshine.”

  “No.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I just want to get married and get away from my family. They hate me, John. My sister can’t stand the sight of me. If they knew I was carrying your baby, well …”

  So, the little minx had gotten herself in trouble. No wonder she was in such a hurry to snag a husband. Since she couldn’t get Jacob, she’d settle on the baby’s father. Something she should have done in the first place. Ben was going to tan her hide.

  Jacob ran his hands over his unshaved face. His palms rasped across the stubble. Should he confront her and lead her back home or let her come back after she was safely wed? What did he know about the Woods family?

  There were a lot of them. Ten under one roof. All the children, except for John, attended Jacob’s school in dirty, patched clothing. One thing was for certain—Viola wasn’t bettering her station in life. A pity, with her looks. She’d most likely have three or four babies by the time she turned twenty. Mind made up, Jacob stood and stepped into the clearing.

  Viola and John whirled. John grabbed a nearby hog’s leg shotgun and aimed it at Jacob’s chest. “State your business, teacher.”

  “I’ve come to take Viola home.” Jacob took care to keep his hands in the open.

  “I’m not going home, Mr. Wright.” Viola lifted her pretty chin. “They hate me there.”

  “No, they don’t. It’s all a big misunderstanding. Come home and let your Pa help you with your burdens.”

  She narrowed her eyes and folded her hands over her stomach. “You calling my baby a burden?”

  “You just turned seventeen.”

  John shifted his gun. “My ma will help.”

  “You ma has her hands full.” Jacob took a step forward.

  “Stop.” John shook his head. “You don’t know anything, mister. You come in here with your city ways and try to tell us how to live, what to learn, how to talk. Stealing our women. Trying to turn us from our way of life.” He pulled the trigger.

  The bullet kicked up the dirt at Jacob’s feet.

  Viola screamed and stepped in front of John. “Don’t shoot him. Enough has been done on my account. Mr. Wright, tell my sister that I’m sorry, and we’ll be back in a day or two.” She took John’s arm and led the young man in the opposite direction.

  Jacob had no choice but to let them go. He added another failure to his long list. How was he going to tell the Lillie family one of their own had flown the coop? He kicked at a rock, scuffing his new boot. Fitting.

  Shoulders slumped, he made his way back to the mule and climbed onto the animal’s back. He might as well finish his trip to Dixon’s place. He needed to purchase a few items to take to the homes of his students when he started his weekly visits.

  A proud people, he’d have to be careful what he took. Coffee, maybe. A tin of biscuits. Nothing that would make a big difference in any of their lives, but might possibly give them a taste of something finer in life.

  John’s words about Jacob trying to change the hill folk drifted through his mind. He didn’t want to change anyone. Was there anything wrong with wanting to show the people that there were other things available to them than backbreaking poverty or money earned by making and selling whiskey?

  He glanced at the scudding clouds overhead. Lord, help me help these people without offending. Too much harm had already been done.

  *

  “Where is that girl?” Grandma turned from the sink of dirty dishes and waved a wooden spoon in Phoebe’s direction. “She knows she’s got to pick up the slack while you’re ailing.”

  Ailing? Phoebe snorted, not glancing up from her quilting. She didn’t give one whit about where her no-good sister had gone to. She jabbed the needle through the fabric and into her finger.

  Hissing, she stuck the injured appendage into her mouth and eyed the shotgun hanging in its place above the fireplace. She still wanted to shoot Eli. She didn’t reckon that feeling would go away anytime soon. But she didn’t want to shoot her sister. Slap her, maybe, or pull her hair.

  “She’s probably off sulking because I wouldn’t forgive her for her loose tongue.” Phoebe checked her finger to make sure it wasn’t bleeding before picking her needle back up.

  Grandma nodded. “She’s got to learn that tears don’t always make everything better.”

  The front door banged open, and Pa barged in. “Where’s Viola?”

  Heart in her throat, Phoebe jumped to her feet. “Grandma and I were discussing the very thing. We don’t know. What’s happened?”

  “The oldest Wood boy is gone, too.” Pa sighed. “That girl will be the death of me
. I’ll skin her hide to where she can’t sit for a week.”

  “She’s a woman grown, Ben.” Grandma pointed at his seat at the head of the table. “Eat. She’ll turn up.”

  “Like a bad penny.” Pa’s chair scraped across the floor. He glanced at Phoebe. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I already did. You were out so early this morning, we’ve all finished.” She moved to the next square in her quilt. Usually, the repetitive motions soothed her. Not today. All she saw in every stitch was Eli’s drunken sneer.

  The quilt, aptly named An Old Maid’s Ramble, was sure to be a beauty and should fetch a good price at the spring fair. After falling for Jacob, Phoebe had almost hoped this quilt would be the last she made until after stitching one to go on her marriage bed. Fitting how this one should haunt her. She’d be an old maid for sure.

  The fact she hadn’t seen Jacob in a while, confirmed the fact he only courted her to get close to the moonshiners. That man had a hard hankering to right some wrong. Well, he wasn’t going to use Phoebe to do it. Tears clogged her throat. Regardless of how she felt about him, it was best to let him move on and find a woman worthy of him. She’d tell him as soon as she could face looking at a man other than Pa.

  The way she was now, just the thought of a man laying eyes on her, much less touching her, made her stomach roil. What kind of a wife would she make now? She clapped a hand over her mouth. What if she carried Eli’s baby in her womb? She cast a startled glance at Pa. He’d commit murder for sure.

  Ma’s voice drifted from beyond the grave, telling her not to borrow trouble, for the day had enough of its own. That was a certainty.

  A knock on the door sent Phoebe scurrying into the bedroom she shared with her Grandma and sisters. True to Grandma’s word, the boys had been sent to the loft and the girls given the bedroom. Phoebe left the bedroom door open enough to peer out of.

  “I’ll get it.” Pa clutched his rifle and swung the door open.

  A very battered Eli stood, hat in one hand, flowers in the other, on the porch. “I’ve come to ask Phoebe to be my wife.” He held up the hand holding the flowers. “Hear me out, Ben. I know I did her wrong, but I was in a drunken stupor and not in full capacity of my senses. Surely, you believe that.”