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

by Cynthia Hickey

  The animals passed, and she turned to face him. “I thought we’d lost you.” Her gaze flicked down him. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s just a graze.” He smiled. “What a pair we make. Bloody and torn. Imagine what we’d be like if God weren’t looking out for us.”

  “Don’t jest.” Her eyes sparked. “You could’ve been killed. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  His heart jolted. “What do you mean?”

  “Every day is a trial.” Her chin shook. “Every breath a blessing. I’m losing my faith with these day-to-day tribulations.” She laid her head against the rock face. “I haven’t even asked for a Bible reading in weeks.”

  “But I wasn’t killed.” He pulled her into a hug. “We’re almost there. God never promises us life will be easy, just that our reward will be great. The others are waiting at the bottom of the hill for us. How about a piggy back ride? We’ll be camped beside the Green River tonight with another ferry ride in the morning.”

  “It isn’t good for the baby, Zeke.”

  23

  “What baby?” His heart settled in his stomach like a rock slide.

  Delly took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. But don’t worry. It’s won’t be born until we reach Oregon.”

  Don’t worry? She was pregnant. With his brother’s child. On the dangerous trail to Oregon Territory. Well, he’d squelch any romantic feelings growing for her. He couldn’t do this either. Not with Delly’s talent for getting herself in danger. His blood ran cold. Weekly, something happened to where he’d almost lose her. Now, with a baby to worry about, in addition to the nieces and nephews he already had … he couldn’t do it. He was a strong man, but not that strong.

  The stricken look on her face told him she understood the thoughts running rampant through his mind. She tilted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Please, help me back to the wagon. I’ll ask Sadie to look at your side.”

  Without speaking, he hefted her in his arms and carried her to the wagon. After setting her inside, he stormed away. He’d take care of his own wound. His heart hurt more than any scrape by an oxen’s horn.

  ###

  Delly woke to continuing chilly temperatures. Why bother getting out of bed? Cold, pain, and the stormy countenance of Zeke weren’t reason enough. She glanced at the chubby cheeks of baby Sarah. There was her reason. Her and five more like her.

  Junior ran by announcing the price of another ferry, and Delly crawled to peer out the front of the wagon. “Eight dollars! It ought to be a sin to charge so much.”

  It seemed the farther west they got, the more expensive the tolls. She crossed her arms and stared over Sadie’s shoulders. Even with Junior playing poker, secretly he thought, they’d be lucky if their money lasted.

  A white man and an Indian woman stood beside the river, donned in layers of calico and fur. Delly yearned to be able to get down and march over to reason with them. To top things off, the men planned to swim the livestock again. Well, she wouldn’t watch. There was nothing she could do if disaster struck. She couldn’t do anything but sit in the back like an old woman while Sadie did all the driving. She stroked the fur of the bear skin she sat on, and smiled sadly. At least they had a beautiful rug to adorn the floor in front of a fireplace in their new home. At the expensive price of her independence.

  “What day is it, Sadie?”

  “Close to the middle of August, I think I heard someone say.” She flicked the reins to move the wagon onto the ferry.

  “A little over halfway,” Delly murmured. Could she continue the monotony, the daily dangers? According to the guidebook, which she was just about ready to chuck out the back of the wagon, they’d traveled the easy half of the journey. She laid her arms along the buckboard and rested her head on them. Her gaze fell on her Bible. That’s her problem. She’d forgotten where her strength was supposed to come from. Pride caused her to fall. A sense of self-importance, thinking she could do it herself.

  Another glance outside showed more of the same she’d seen day after day. Dirt, sand, and sage brush. A ridge of mountains lay a day or two travel ahead of them. She shivered against the cold wind and drew a quilt over her shoulders. The gentle pitch of the ferry carried them across the river without mishap and into air that stank of death.

  Nausea rose, and Delly fumbled around her neck for her face rag. Cattle carcasses dotted the trail. Poor animals too tired and undernourished to go any farther. Vultures swooped in a macabre dance. Household items littered the ground. Chests, armoires, bed springs, mattresses, books, and tools lay among the dead animals.

  For the first time in her life, Delly gave thanks for having so little. There’d be no need for her to discard a cherished possession to lighten the load.

  When they camped that evening, Zeke announced that everyone needed to toss what wasn’t absolutely necessary. She eyed the guidebook again. Stupid thing. Hadn’t been right yet. Full of easy days and tranquil nights. She tossed it into the fire and derived satisfaction from the flames devouring the pages.

  “Toss as little as possible, Sadie. You’ll be setting up house in Oregon, don’t forget.” She held up a cast iron skillet.

  Sadie shook her head. “You take it. I only cook with a dutch oven anyway, and I’d rather have this.” She caressed the arm of a rocking chair. “Most of the widow’s clothes are serviceable and can be used to make dresses for us and the girls. There’re some shirts for the men from her husband’s things. They’re a bit worn, but still have some wear. Maybe we can keep more if we distribute stuff between us.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Delly squealed with delight. “Here’s a Bible for you. Oh, look, some novels.” She sighed. “But those aren’t a necessity.” Neither were the few she’d brought with her. She’d already read them many times, but something about tossing books tore at her heart. She handed Sadie the Bible. She’d keep the books unless she absolutely had to toss them. “The clock will have to go, and those tools. Keep the hoe, and this sewing kit. Praise the Lord, there’s two bolts of calico!”

  “Do you have room for this?” Sadie held up a gorgeous blue and white flower patterned tea set. “I don’t want it. Can you see Luke and his big hands holding something this delicate?”

  “I’d love it. You can visit and have tea any time you want.”

  Zeke strolled by and frowned. “I hope you ladies are being sensible.” The look on his face told Delly he thought her anything but.

  She held the set to her chest. “We have so little. Surely, I can keep a few of these things.”

  He nodded. “Set aside what you want, and I’ll check it over before we hit the high pass.”

  She’d make up her own mind. If she had to get rid of something later, then she would, but she wouldn’t have a man that wasn’t her husband dictate what she could and couldn’t do.

  Half an hour later, she straightened an aching back and glanced with pleasure at the small pile of new possessions. She’d taken the calico bolt of blue, and Sadie claimed the rose. The tea set had been repacked in a smaller crate and cushioned with bunches of dry grass. The iron skillet sat on top of the box. Sadie’s pile sat in the seat of the rocking chair; dish towels, tin dishes, a dutch oven, and the Bible. Necessities for making a home in a new land.

  “Go on to the wagon,” Sadie said. “You’ve done enough for one day. I’ll have Luke bring your share by later on.”

  Delly glanced at the sun setting over the mountains and leaned on her crutch. Streaks of crimson and purple painted a navy sky. She reached up and released her hair from its bun, allowing the curls to bounce against her shoulders and ward off a slight breeze.

  The emigrants all seemed to be traversing a small hill. Their laughter and conversation gave the impression of a party. Delly hobbled after them, not wanting to be left out.

  “Let me help, Ma.” Junior put an arm around her. When had he grown taller than her?

  “Thanks, Junior. You’re quite the gentleman.”

  He beamed.


  When they reached the top, another bear could’ve been next to her and she wouldn’t have noticed as she gazed at the valley below them. The river, a silver ribbon, wound lazily through a prairie of moon-kissed shrubs. The sunset had changed to a panorama of red, orange, and yellow as vibrant as any artist’s paint-splattered canvas.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. There’s nothing to obstruct our view. It’s like a dark ocean spread at our feet. How can something so desolate during the day be this magical at night?”

  Zeke stepped beside her. “I stop here every time I travel through. I never tire of looking at this view. It is truly one of God’s masterpieces.”

  Luke’s eyes glistened. “I’ve seen so much ugliness in my life. Something this beautiful truly restores my soul.”

  “Wait until you see our land. The parcel you can farm is on the edge of our property.” Zeke patted Luke’s shoulder. “It’ll be great having you close.”

  So he’d invited them to stay. The idea warmed Delly, although she wished he’d told her. She twisted her mouth. Why should he? They barely spoke anymore. Not since she’d told him she was expecting anyway.

  Like the Israelites wandering in the desert, Delly feared the last couple of months had cast her into a wilderness of her own.

  24

  Delly rose from the pile of blankets and put most of her weight on her healing leg. She squatted, stretched, and smiled. Other than a slight twinge in her thigh, her wound appeared well enough to allow her to walk rather than ride any longer in the bumpy wagon. It’s been a long month of recovery time.

  She donned her britches, grabbed her crutch, and climbed outside to limp alongside the wagon as it traversed its first mountain. Her breath showed itself in puffs of white in the frigid air. The cold stung her lungs.

  A steady rain the night before left the trail muddy, and Delly’s crutch continuously got stuck. Despite a steely determination to make it to the mountain top, exhaustion forced her to the side of the road. The Johnson wagon rumbled past, and Dorcas left her friend’s side to squat beside Delly.

  Delly lifted a hand to ward off her daughter’s protests. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to rest.” She propped her mud-caked crutch against a tree and closed her eyes. “I’m cold, I’m wet, and my leg hurts.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Williams.”

  Her eyes flew open. Ira Bodine stood in front of her, a smirk on his handsome face. Dressed in black pants, an inky-colored duster that brushed the tops of his shiny boots, and a purple brocade vest over a blinding white shirt, he looked the epitome of wealth and good fortune. Not a speck of dirt dared marred his ensemble. Too bad his insides didn’t appear as spotless.

  Delly glanced at her own splattered pants and moccasins and pulled her tattered wool coat closer around her. “You’re a fool for coming around here. Especially after the stunt you pulled the last time. Our wagon master would like nothing more than to shoot you.”

  “I’ve been called many things, but never a fool.” The smile vanished from his face. His eyes hardened as he glanced at her crutch. “Seems you’ve been injured. Pity. I had such plans for you, my dear. Oh, well.” He smoothed his moustache with his finger. “With your looks, I’m sure the men would overlook a little limp. And your daughter will still fetch me quite a price.” He drew his hand down Dorcas’s cheek. “If nothing else, I’ll hold you ransom for the land deed.”

  Dorcas whimpered and pressed closer to Delly.

  Delly straightened and struggled to her feet wishing she had a gun within reach. She forced her gaze to meet Bodine’s lifeless snake eyes. “Leave. Our friends will come and fetch us soon.”

  He glanced up the trail where Zeke rode toward them. Bodine tipped his hat. “Until next time, ladies.” He stepped back and disappeared into the trees.

  “Was that Bodine?” Zeke held down a hand to help Delly climb up behind him.

  “Yes.” She swung a leg over. “I think he’s following us. He’s getting bolder. It’s not just me he wants, but Dorcas too. I’m giving you the deed. I don’t want to hold onto it any longer.”

  He lifted Dorcas and positioned her in front of him. “I’ll shoot him if I see him again.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be much of a deterrent.”

  “We’ll see the next time we come face-to-face with that gambling scoundrel.”

  Delly wanted nothing more than to lay her cheek against his back, feel the wool warm from his skin on her face. Have her heart beat in time with his. But it couldn’t be. Not with Zeke still suffering from his wife’s death. Not since she carried another man’s child.

  But they did have something in common. Although she’d abhorred bloodshed, she’d violently defend her family if the need arose. With Ira Bodine shadowing them, she feared a confrontation between the man and Zeke only waited for the right time. She prayed this would be an instant when the good guy won.

  She ought to shoot the man herself.

  ###

  Zeke called a halt in a meadow half-way up the second mountain. Above them rose snow-covered peaks. Below, a green valley where a tribe of Indians had established a village. Wary of what had happened before, he had the travelers put the extra stock in the middle of the circle. The trail was quickly taking its toll on the animals, and they couldn’t afford to lose any to thievery.

  “Mr. Williams.” A middle-aged man tethered his horse beside Cyclone. “We waited to leave Missouri with you because you told us we would cross these mountains before bad weather. We could’ve left with an earlier train, but were told you were the best. My children are crying because they’re cold. Maybe we should’ve rethought our decision.”

  “This isn’t bad, Mr. Robbins. Bad is what would be waiting if we’d left a month later.” Zeke tried to move past him. The man blocked his way. “Look, no one stopped you from leaving with an earlier train. You wanted my expertise on this trail, and the experience of Hiram. Paid good money for it, too.”

  “My children are hungry. My wife’s fingers are too cold to start a fire, and our rations are running low.”

  Zeke gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry about that, sir. If you followed the guidelines I gave you, you’d have plenty of rations to get you through. These woods are full of animals for hunting. Feel free to do so, and if your wife’s fingers are too cold, why don’t you start the fire for her?”

  Other men crowded around, adding their opinions. Their voices steadily rose in volume. Zeke stilled his horse who skittered sideways at the crowding bodies. “We will be out of these mountains within the next day or two. Then it will be the heat and lack of water you’ll be complaining about. We’re all tired, folks. We need to make the best of things and keep moving.”

  Delly stood on the fringe of the crowd, her face pale beneath her bonnet. Did she think Zeke failed her too? Was she like the other doomsayers? He turned his head, not wanting to see any sign of condemnation on her face. Not that he didn’t deserve it, especially after the way he avoided her after the breaking news of her pregnancy, but coming from a family member … well, he couldn’t take losing her trust to lead her safely to Oregon.

  “The Israelites complained against Moses when he was leading them to the Promised Land.” Luke spoke up from behind them where he leaned against a tree with his arms crossed. “The Lord led them through, just as He promised to. Just as He will use Mr. Williams to lead you through.” He marched to Zeke’s side and stood as sturdy as an oak.

  “This man is willing to go forward with an injured woman and a passel of children. Nothing more than any of you have to endure. We left our pasts behind for hope of a better future. Anything worthwhile requires work and hardship. Go on back to your wagons and let Mr. Williams be. Look around and count your blessings.” Luke parted the way for Zeke to pass through the now silent men.

  Zeke clapped Luke on the shoulder. “That was quite a speech, my friend.”

  “It’s human nature to grumble when things are hard. Just as it is our nature to forge
t the bad when we come to finally see what we’ve been striving for. They’ll come around.”

  “You ought to be a preacher. Are you a learned man?”

  “Can’t read or write. Not even my own name.” Luke slid the saddle from Zeke’s horse. “But my daddy knew the Bible from his daddy, and my momma could read some. They wanted to raise me right. Even under the bondage of slavery.”

  “Well, they sure did, Luke. You’re wiser than most educated people.” Now, if only Luke’s wisdom could bridge the valley wide gap between Zeke and Delly.

  25

  The next day they emerged from the mountains and stopped beside a soda spring. The children took Delly’s face rag and let the water suck it into a hole then spit it back out. They shouted with laughter. Delly shot out her hand and confiscated the scrap of fabric. “What if it doesn’t give it back? I’ll be eating dust the rest of the way.”

  “Delly.” Ben Johnson approached, twisting his hat in his hands. “Sadie says to come. It’s Alice’s time.”

  “It’s too early.” Her heart beat faster. What could she do? She didn’t know a thing about birthing babies.

  “Babies don’t always wait. Sadie says get your medicine box and whatever clean towels you can find.” He nodded and dashed back to his wagon.

  Delly shoved her rag into her pocket. “Dorcas, boil some water and wait for me to call you. Keep an eye on the little ones.” She retrieved the requested supplies and limped as quickly as possible to the Johnson’s wagon. Alice’s deep moans drifted across the camp.

  “Alice?” Delly tossed the box up and climbed inside. “How are you doing?”

  The woman’s face glowed red with the effort of labor. Sweat ran in rivulets down her cheeks. “Slow…at first. They got…worse after…we stopped.” She groaned and laid back against the quilts Sadie piled behind her for support. “I didn’t want…to say anything…earlier.”