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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Goodness, Miss Delly.” Sadie let the reins droop across her lap. “You sure are out of sorts this morning.”

  “I’m sorry. I woke up cold, and I’ve been grouchy ever since.” She ducked her chin into her chest. “Don’t you think it’s time you dropped the Miss?”

  “Wouldn’t be proper. Folks’ll frown, and that might cause problems for you. And don’t worry. It’ll warm up. In a few weeks, you’ll be boiling hot and grumbling about something else.”

  Junior dashed back to the wagon. “There’s a narrow bridge up ahead that’s owned by Indians. They’re demanding a toll.”

  Dorcas jumped up and down beside the wagon. “I want to see the Indians.”

  “Not now. You can see them when we cross.” Delly leaned over the side and tried to see for herself. “How much do they want?”

  “Seventy-five cents.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “That seems like a lot of money. It’s not like they’re ferrying us across the river. Is there any other way?”

  “No, Uncle Zeke said it’s best to pay. Tomorrow we hit another dangerous river that we’ll have to ford. It’s called the Elkhorn. Here’s the money. I’ll have to pay to cross the mule and goat too.”

  “Nonsense. Just tie them to the back of the wagon and give your uncle back his money.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Just do as I say!” Delly slammed back against the seat. The impact took her breath away, sent a stab of pain through her back, and increased her irritation. She ought to be glad for the distraction the Indians provided. It’d been the same view every day. The back of the oxens’ heads, and the wagon in front of them had a tear in the bonnet that Delly’s fingers itched to fix. The incessant buzzing of flies attracted to the animal’s sweat was enough to make her want to scream.

  Junior marched off to fetch the animals. They’d only moved a few feet by the time he returned and tied them to the back. When they finally reached the bridge, Zeke stood ready to translate. Next to him stood two male Indians, dressed in buckskin britches and flannel shirts.

  Dorcas frowned. “They don’t look much like Indians to me, ‘cept for the long hair and dark skin.”

  “Mornin’.” Zeke tipped his hat, his gaze settling on Delly. “Seventy-five cents for the wagon and another for the mule and goat.”

  “I won’t pay but one fee.” Delly stared straight ahead, not making eye contact. She refused to use Zeke’s coins and she had precious little money left. She wouldn’t squander it on greedy Indians. “They’re attached to the wagon.”

  The corner of Zeke’s mouth twitched. The Indians made wild gestures with their hands. “They say seventy-five cents twice. They think you’re trying to rob them.”

  “That’s silly.” She turned her head to glare at them. “Tell them I wouldn’t rob anyone. It’s the other way around, the way I see it.” She crossed her arms. Sadie glanced from her to Zeke, her smooth brow creased with worry. “Stop fretting, Sadie. I know what I’m doing.” She hoped.

  The Indians laughed and slapped each other on the back. They pointed at Delly and guffawed.

  Zeke shook his head. “They admire your spunk. One of them is interested in buying the pale faced woman with hair the color of a raven and eyes like a thunderstorm. Interested? He says he’ll trade me two ponies for you.” The corner of his mouth twitched again. “I could probably use them for my ranch.”

  Her mouth dropped. “No! Tell them I’m taken or something.”

  He clapped one of the Indians on the shoulders and whispered something. The three men guffawed, and he turned back to Delly. “One toll it is.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That you were more trouble than seventy-five cents would buy.”

  Neck heating hot enough to challenge the sun, Delly paid the toll, nodding at the Indians as they passed. She took a deep breath and willed her heart rate to return to normal. When had she acquired her stubbornness? She’d never balked at rules before. And how dare Zeke ridicule her in front of the savages.

  “I don’t know how you stayed so calm.” Sadie handed back the reins. “My hands are shaking. I thought for sure they’d scalp us. And for them to want to buy you, mercy, I couldn’t hardly breathe.”

  “They didn’t look very dangerous to me.” Quite the opposite, in fact. Delly was beginning to suspect the guidebook wasn’t entirely true about what the emigrants would encounter on their journey.

  Sadie sat back and removed the kerchief covering her head. Ebony curls fell to her shoulders. “They did to me. How did you know they’d compromise?”

  “Their toll was robbery, and they knew it.” Delly removed her glove from her right hand and fingered Sadie’s hair. “You have the most gorgeous hair. I wish mine was as thick. Yours is as soft as down.”

  “The blessing of having a white daddy. Besides, yours is as fine as silk and as dark as those Indians’. Makes you look like a fairy tale creature. Seeing as how the Indians like it so much, I’d keep it covered if I were you.”

  Delly laughed. “Best we appreciate what we possess then, huh?” She shook her head. “I’m going to have a fit if we have to pay a toll every time we cross a bridge or a river. I didn’t know anyone owned this land out here.”

  “And I wasn’t aware you had such a temper.”

  “You have no idea,” Dorcas shouted from behind them. “It just takes a while to rile her, then watch out!”

  ###

  They rode into the late afternoon before stopping on the bank of the Elkhon River. Delly despaired. The scene reminded her of Independence. Everywhere she looked wagons waited to cross. A sea of white rippled as far as she could see. The breeze whipped the canvas and filled the air with the sound of buffeting sails. The wagons must have counted in the hundreds.

  “I don’t believe it.” She climbed from her seat. “This is ridiculous. Dorcas, help me get dinner started.” She stomped around the camp like a caged animal, grumbling about yet another delay.

  “I’m driving tomorrow, Miss Delly.” Sadie glared at her. “You’re unpleasant to be around. Maybe you need to lie in the back like a lady of leisure and rest. Must be the strain of sitting on your bottom all day that has you so riled.” She took the kettle from Dorcas. “Go get us some of those fine biscuits from yesterday, Miss Dorcas. Maybe gnawing on one of those will settle your ma’s temper.”

  Delly stretched, placing her hands on the small of her back, and laughed. “You’re right. My whole body aches.” She glanced around them. Her moods changed with each minute it seemed. And she hadn’t set eyes on Zeke all day. That couldn’t be the reason for her behavior, could it? If it was, she’d have to get over the notion right quick! They’d both made it more than plain that romance, and marriage, weren’t in the picture for either of them.

  Trees lined the banks of the river and overlooked shallow bluffs. “This might be a pretty place if there weren’t so many wagons. But it’s cold again. The weather is as unpredictable as my deceased husband’s chance of winning at poker. There are so many people there’s nowhere to go for…any privacy.”

  “Looks like we’ll have to be inventive. We’ll walk a ways with some of the other women and form a circle. I heard some folks saying that one person gets in the middle to do her business while the others shield her with their skirts.” She demonstrated by picking up her skirt and holding it out on both sides.

  Delly frowned, picturing it, and not liking what she saw. “I guess it’ll work. Still doesn’t give us much, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Sophia Miller sashayed around the wagon. “Uncouth, if you ask me. Everyone will know what you’re doing.”

  “As if they don’t when you disappear behind a bush?” Delly rolled her eyes. How the woman did put on airs. They’d see if she still acted so fine by the time they reached Oregon.

  Sophia snorted and crossed her arms.

  Ben and Alice strolled up. “We’ve got to dismantle the wagons. Take off the wheels and float the beds across,
” Ben told them. “According to Mr. Williams, we’ll take the women and children first then come back for the supplies. Leave behind anything that isn’t necessary.” He glanced at the small pile of firewood Delly had piled.

  Her wood? “But what if we can’t come by any more for a while?”

  “Then you’ll burn something else. The boys and I will be by soon to help you dismantle.”

  Junior ran up, his hat in hand. “You women should see this! It’s sheer pandemonium. They’re floating the wagons like big rafts, using long poles to steer. The poles keep falling into the water, and the wagons start floating down the river and run into each other. Those that don’t have wagons are crossing on the backs of their horses or trying to swim. One man already drowned.” He stopped to take a breath.

  “Uncle Zeke told me to come get the mule. He’s got a better idea about crossing. He’s bound and determined to do this orderly. He’s really smart, ain’t he? He said he’s never seen this much commotion just for crossing a river. Said you’d think the west was going to disappear the way people are in such a rush. Wants to get ahead of them if we can. We’ll be crossing first thing in the morning. Pile up your stuff.”

  Sadie’s mouth fell open when he dashed away. ”Land sakes, that boy was running at the mouth.”

  Delly wondered if she looked as surprised. She’d never heard Junior spout off so much as he did on the trail. If you asked him, he’d probably say his uncle walked on water. And there was only one man Delly knew of that could do that, and he didn’t walk with a physical form anymore. She ducked her head to hide a smile, although Zeke did seem more than mortal at times. Especially the way he worked without ceasing as if physical tiredness was something that didn’t dare touch him.

  They worked well into the dark unloading the wagons so the men could take off the wheels, then loaded everything back on with the wheels laid flat on the wagon bed. She’d even had to take off the canvas covering so the wind couldn’t catch it and sail them down river. Perspiration soaked her skin and ran in rivulets down her back. Exhaustion weighed her limbs and left her feeling sixty years old.

  ###

  With her heart in her throat, Delly watched as Zeke swam his horse across with the end of a rope tied around his waist. Cyclone never faltered in the current, putting one massive hoof in front of the other. Zeke rode hunched low over the horse’s ears, his muscles rippling through the red plaid shirt he wore under a buckskin vest. He was the epitome of the western hero in every novel Delly had ever spent time with. She shook herself free of purposeless wonderings and moved to help the others.

  With the help of Hiram and Melvin, Ben stayed on their side and secured the other end to a sturdy tree. When Zeke reached the opposite shore, he tied the rope to another tree and whistled for Ben to begin.

  Because of the way the wagons had stopped the night before, Ben would go first with the bulk of his supplies. Melvin would take the women and children across on Delly’s wagon.

  Ben and Hiram shoved the first of their heavy wagons into the river. The bed settled just above the water line, made waterproof because of the oil Zeke had the foresight to paint over the wood before setting out. The men pulled themselves hand over hand using the rope, until the wagon bed hit the opposite bank. He cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled. “We’ll swim back over on the rope once you women are across. Shove her off, Melvin.”

  Alice grinned. “He’s some kind of man, my Ben.”

  Delly smiled back. “Him and Zeke are both made from a rare cloth, that’s for sure.” Some woman would be very lucky to get a man such as Zeke for a husband.

  The men shoved together, sliding Delly’s wagon into the water. The river splashed up and over, soaking Delly’s precious stockpile of wood. She should have listened and disposed of it. She groaned and tossed the sticks into the water, watching the current swirl them away. While Junior held the raft steady, they finished loading the supplies. Delly and Sadie grabbed the rope, along with Melvin, and Junior jumped off.

  “Get back on here!” What did her son have planned now?

  He shook his head. “Can’t. Got to swim the stock across. Uncle Zeke’s coming back to help me.” He slapped his hat on his head and dashed to where the stock clustered behind a makeshift corral.

  Melvin ordered the children into the center of the bed, nodded for Delly and Sadie to grab hold, and started pulling them across. The river ran swift, tugging the wagon bed away from the rope. “Pull harder,” he yelled.

  They strained against the fast moving water. Delly glanced down. Her stomach heaved. The river roared over rocks, causing the bed to pitch and roll. Several times one of them would slip and almost lose their footing. How many of these nightmares would they have to face?

  They heaved in unison to pull the wagon across the river. Alice’s daughter, Abby, wailed every time the water splashed over the edge, threatening to drench her. If she’d had time, Delly would’ve plopped down and cried with her.

  Sadie tripped over a sack of flour and tottered toward the edge of the wagon bed. She flung her arms over the rope. Her legs thrashed as she struggled to gain a foothold. Delly watched in horror as the other woman slid out of the wagon.

  “I’m losing my grip!” Sadie kicked frantically. “Heaven have mercy, I can’t swim.”

  “Grab her, Mrs. Williams,” Melvin shouted. “I’ll try to hold the wagon steady.”

  Delly let loose of the rope and scrambled across the piles of dry goods. Lord, please don’t let her drown in front of my eyes. She grabbed her friend around the waist, heaved, and pulled her to safety. “You okay?”

  Sadie nodded, her chest heaving. “Just got to catch my breath. I’ll help pull in a minute.”

  Delly grasped the rope and, hand over hand, continued the pull across the water. How she wished Zeke stood on the opposite shore. Something solid for her to focus on. Her mind filled with the urgent need to set both feet on land. She struggled to keep her own footing on the slippery wagon bottom. The extra weight of her drenched dress made her movements slow and clumsy. By the time they reached the shore, her nerves were on edge and nausea soured her stomach.

  Her hands burned, her clothes clung to her body, soaked with water or sweat, she couldn’t tell and didn’t care. There was no strength left in her. Her chest heaved with the effort to breath.

  Sadie held out her hands. Bleeding welts covered her palms. Alice dug through her supplies to find the medicine kit.

  A shadow fell over Delly, and she stared up at Zeke. He grinned. “You women did good. Once the wagons are back together, you can rest. We start again early in the morning.”

  Delly slumped to the ground. Where’d the man get his energy? “I can’t move.”

  “You’ll feel better with some hot coffee in you, and make a habit of wearing gloves every day.” Zeke tipped his hat.

  “Thank you for that bit of information.” He most likely brought up the subject of coffee so she’d make a pot for him.

  He frowned. “Are your hands as bad as Sadie’s?”

  Delly held them up, palm out. “They’ve been better, but no, not as bad.” The skin stung like hornets.

  Zeke took them in his, warming her even through the leather he wore over his own hands. “If not taken care of, these blisters could get infected. Then you won’t be able to do much at all.”

  Did he only care about how much work she could do? “I’m putting salve on them nightly.”

  His features softened as his gaze met hers. “Just don’t want anything to happen to you, that’s all.” He nodded and strolled away.

  Delly watched him go, his long strides carrying him to other emigrants who might need his help. She wanted him to go, yet at the same time, wanted him to stay until the fear of the river crossing became nothing but a memory.

  “My momma would be horrified. My hands look like they belong to a common field worker,” Sadie moaned.

  Alice tossed her a jar of salve. She laughed. “Now you’ll smell like one.”


  Delly pushed to her feet. Her arms felt like they weighed fifty pounds each. Her stomach rolled. If she felt this way after only a few weeks, how would she ever set up a home in Oregon before winter set in?

  8

  The aroma of brewing coffee drifted through the canvas, teasing Delly awake. She burrowed further into the quilts. Her nose felt like the snout of a calf left out in the snow. She poked her hand free of her cocoon and tucked it back beneath the covers. Freezing! The weather in this new land couldn’t make up its mind. Hotter than blazes one day and as cold as the darkest winter the next.

  As quickly as possible, she tossed the blankets aside, pulled on her dress and shawl, then glanced toward the children’s and Sadie’s vacant spots.

  “I thought I heard someone rustling around in here.” Sadie parted the tent flap. “Coffee’s ready, lady of leisure.”

  “Thank you. I need something to warm me.” Delly shivered and stepped outside.

  “Someone thought to bring a thermometer. Said it’s down in the thirties. There’s ice crust on the ground too.” Sadie handed her a warm mug. “Not much wood to be found, but the grazing’s all right.”

  The campers woke around them. Men murmured to the stock while the women coaxed children from cozy beds. Delly waved to Junior, who stood by the Johnsons’ wagon. Couldn’t that boy ever stay by his own fire? He looked, and acted, for all the world like a boy on a grand adventure. Maybe he was. Unless he followed in his uncle’s footsteps, he wouldn’t travel across the continent again.

  Sadie handed her a bowl of corn mush with pieces of bacon and a drizzle of honey. “Eat. We don’t have much time.”

  Remorse filled her. She’d slept that long? How could she, and leave Sadie to care for the children? “Honey?”

  “I did some mending for a woman who brought along a couple of hives to restart her colony when we get west. She had some jars set aside.” Sadie bumped Delly with her hip. “I don’t sleep much, so I’ve been working for others while you lazy people sleep in.”