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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Ruth laughed. “Thanks for noticing, I think.”

  He returned her grin, loving the musical sound of her laughter—something he heard too rarely. He vowed to remedy that. “As I was saying, I’d like you to look around the town with the eyes of a woman, and tell me what would improve our population.”

  “You mean attract more women.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Hmmm.” She tapped her lips with her index finger. “Deborah might be the best candidate to gain an opinion from. She’s the most feminine.”

  John shook his head. “But you’re the most level-headed. At least from what I’ve seen. I want practical, not frippery.”

  “Well, Deborah wants to open a school. I guess getting a full-time preacher wouldn’t hurt, either. Folks seem to like that. Also, now that the war is over, travel will resume on the river more regularly. That ought to bring people this way. And, this town needs a full time doctor. A store offering a good selection of yard goods would be wonderful.”

  John rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Yeah, those things might convince people to travel up here and stay.”

  *

  Ruth’s gaze roamed over what the residents proudly referred to as Main Street. A muddy road with holes big enough to swallow a horse and buggy Weathered boards made up the buildings; even the church looked drab: peeling paint, a leaning steeple. Not much to lure in parishioners. If not for the beauty of the woods, the bluffs, and the river, the town held little to attract a person.

  A crooked porch ran the length of the mercantile. She hadn’t noticed before, but Painted Bluff almost looked like a busted town that had gone belly up. Her family definitely occupied the best building. No boardwalks lined the dirt road, and one of the saloon’s swinging doors hung by one hinge.

  Ruth grinned at the sight. She’d peeked inside once out of curiosity. The saloon had no girls to entice the gentlemen, one table for those interested in cards, and a scuffed bar. A harmless enough place, considering what she’d seen in other towns. “With progress comes trouble, Sheriff. Are you ready to deal with whatever comes your way?”

  “I’m dealing with the uproar of the Stallings women arriving, aren’t I?”

  “Very funny.” They came to the end of the street, and Ruth stopped. “Since you asked, here’s my answer. You need to clean the place up. Whitewash the buildings, especially the church, repair the warped boards, build a boardwalk so people aren’t walking in the mud. Have the mercantile carry a larger variety of goods for women, so they don’t have to go all the way to Rolling Brook. I know it’s hard so soon after the war, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Don’t take it personally. Now that your brother has returned, the town can focus on improvement.”

  “Okay. Thank you for your ideas.”

  Ruth held up a hand. “I’m not finished. Once the folks start arriving, you need social functions to draw the community together. Christmas plays, picnics, things like that.” Ruth clapped her hands. Straightening up the town would be fun. Not like work at all. She was a good planner and organizer. “I can get a committee together, provided the mayor approves, and whip this place into shape by fall. Then, you can place advertisements in the newspaper of larger cities. Tell people the advantages of living here.”

  John removed his hat and twisted the brim in his hands. “Okay, now how do we bring, uh, romance into the mix?”

  The blood rushed from Ruth’s head. “Excuse me?” Romance? Ruth didn’t know much about that particular quality.

  “The restaurant is doing well, you’ve even had a family or two, but what about couples who are courting? Maybe we should offer them something besides walks, and the occasional church picnic. What could we do to improve the situation once more women arrive?”

  “That’s a progressive notion. But, folks might still go for something like that.” Ruth stared into John’s earnest face. He wasn’t counting their walk as a romantic gesture, was he? No, the man seemed serious. At first, she’d thought he played a simple game of flirtation. Relieved that he wasn’t playing, she still didn’t know why he asked her. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because you’re a woman. Aren’t all women romantics?”

  She frowned. “Not me.” Why did she offer to head up a committee? She’d gone plumb crazy.

  John leaned against a hitching post and crossed his arms and ankles. “I thought maybe you could have a couple’s night at the restaurant or something.”

  Ruth shrugged. “I suppose I could convert the parlor into a cozy eating place just for couples. Grandma would like the idea.”

  John grinned, his dimples winking. “We could try it out first to make sure it’ll work.”

  Chapter 15

  Ruth studied the checkerboard, then moved her piece forward to claim one of Sarah’s discs. Grandma rocked and knitted, while Deborah rolled yarn into balls. A quiet, peaceful evening, except for the occasional thump John’s booted feet made on the floorboards overhead. Ruth glanced around the parlor. What room could they use for their personal space if they gave up this one for a high class dining room?

  “The sheriff suggested we turn the parlor into a couple’s dining room.” Ruth straightened and studied the faces of her family. Her sisters and grandmother stopped what they were doing and stared at her. “In the future, where could we hold our family nights?”

  “I suppose we could turn an upstairs bedroom into a parlor, and I can bunk with your girls,” Grandma said. “I think it’s a good idea.”

  “I’ve also been assigned the task of improving the town in order to attract more families.”

  Sarah moved her piece, then claimed one of Ruth’s checkers. Ruth inwardly groaned. “I’d like all of your help.”

  Sarah glowered at the board. “Not me. As soon as I’m old enough, I’m leaving this place. There’s no need for me to get too attached.”

  “To go where?” Ruth studied the top of Sarah’s head. Strands of mahogany slipped from a blue ribbon and fell forward around her cheeks.

  “Someplace adventurous.” Sarah glanced up and grinned. “Staying and teaching is okay for Deborah, but I thought maybe I’d do something not ordinarily reserved for women. Like go West. Maybe work on a ranch in Montana or Wyoming.”

  Ruth pressed her lips together to prevent a smile. Grandma wanted her to talk and find out her sister’s dreams, so here she was, biting her tongue so she wouldn’t discourage such an outlandish idea.

  “Then, when I’m too old to have fun, I’ll settle down and get married. Definitely by the time I’m as old as you, Ruth.”

  Ruth’s face heated. “Nineteen isn’t that old.” Her sister made her sound as if she had one foot in the grave.

  “I think you’re being silly,” Deborah said. “That’s not something a well-bred young lady should aspire to. You could follow in my footsteps by teaching, then take over the school, when and if I choose to marry.”

  “Oh, you’ll marry, Miss Goody-Two Shoes.” Sarah shoved the game board. “Some well-to-do dandy with his nose in the air and fat pockets. I’ll be surprised if you teach for more than one term.”

  “That’s enough, young lady.” Grandma set her knitting in the basket at her feet. “There’s no need to talk to your sister that way, and stop the foolishness about running off to chase cows. What would your ma say?”

  “Ma isn’t here.” Sarah stood, the movement knocking over her chair. “One of these days, you won’t be able to stop me.” With a swish of her skirts, she thundered up the stairs.

  What just happened? Maybe they shouldn’t have squelched Sarah’s dream. Most likely, she would’ve outgrown the silly notion anyway. So much for a nice evening with the family. At least it hadn’t been her that’d opened her mouth and sent Sarah off in a huff.

  Ruth dumped the checkers into a box and folded the game board before heading to the front porch, taking care to leave the door open so the night breeze could circulate through the ho
use. She lowered herself into a rocking chair and stared across the yard to where the lawn disappeared over the bluff. Fireflies flickered around the grass and bushes. Locusts filled the air with their buzzing serenade. Somewhere, a bullfrog answered.

  With a setting so serene, a person would think their spirit would be as much at peace. Ruth sighed and set the rocker in motion. She hadn’t been at peace since finding her parents’ bodies, or following the Bushwhackers and pulling the trigger on her pa’s gun. Grandma had lost her only son, yet she seemed content. Happy even. How was that possible? How could they lose half their family, their home, and most of their material possessions, and Grandma still rejoice about how blessed they were?

  Money made life easier. That, and the know-how to use a gun. It was the earning of the money that was hard. And the holding onto it. A secure stash of funds was as slippery as sand through her fingers. Ruth didn’t regret giving what she had to the river people; she’d do it again in a heartbeat if they needed it. The restaurant brought in a steady supply of money, and it’d bring in even more as the town grew. So, why did her soul still feel so restless?

  A boot thudded on the porch behind her. “Evenin’.’” John stepped outside. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.” Ruth motioned to the chair beside her without slowing her rocking. “We’re going to follow your advice on the sitting room.”

  John sat and faced her. “But?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “I think romance is a silly waste of time. There’s too much work to do in life. Who has the opportunity to sit across a table and make love-struck looks at each other?”

  “You don’t believe in love?”

  “For some people. My parents found a love that few people ever will.” Ruth’s eyes burned with unshed tears as she remembered the strength of love that her ma and pa shared. She’d give almost anything to experience what they had. Anything except lose her individuality and self-sufficiency.

  She studied John through the deepening dusk. He was a man who looked less like a romantic than almost anyone she’d met. He didn’t pick flower bouquets or spout pretty language, yet for the last few days, he’d seemed obsessed with ideas for beautifying the town and attracting the fairer sex.

  She shook her head. When she and her family first arrived, he’d seemed unhappy to see them. Now, he wanted to bring in more females. Her stomach sank. Maybe he wanted a larger variety of womenfolk, so he could choose a bride of his own.

  “You don’t think love is out there for you?” John laid his hands on the rocker’s armrests and set the chair in motion.

  Ruth continued to stare into the night. “No.”

  *

  His heart sank. Leaning forward, John balanced his elbows on his knees and stared at fireflies flickering in the grass. When had he gone from looking at Ruth and her family as a nuisance to caring about what she thought? Had he forgotten how Martha had cut out his heart and stomped on it?

  Now, he wanted a town full of women and families? Like things had been before the war: crazy, complicated, and wonderful. And he wanted Ruth to share his life with him. Romantic or not, he intended to woo and win her. All he needed was a plan.

  Luke would have an idea how to win a woman’s hear,t and how to keep. He’d left a trail of broken hearts before the war. No longer would John put his life on-hold, only for the lady to up and leave when someone better came along. He wanted to laugh, as he realized he wasn’t as immune to the idea of love as he’d thought.

  He stood. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” Ruth’s gentle words drifted on the soft evening breeze.

  What would she do if he bent down to kiss her? Not like the kiss intended to quiet her, but a kiss with the tenderness of rose petals and rabbit fur. One that held a promise of passion? He leaned forward, then pulled back and grinned. She’d probably slap him again, but it’d be worth the sting. He smiled and entered the house.

  When John walked through the open door of Luke’s room, his brother sat in bed, a goofy grin on his face. “Sit down, brother. Miss Stallings was just telling me about their adventures up the river, while Miriam cooked lunch.”

  John raised his eyebrows and sat in a straight-backed chair. He’d heard some of the story, and couldn’t find a thing that would put such a big smile on a man’s face. There wasn’t anything funny about Bushwhackers. The facts he’d been told were ones of hardship. He glanced at Deborah. Ah. The corn-silk hair and sky-blue eyes might have something to do with Luke’s expression.

  “I’ll give you gentlemen a few minutes alone.” Deborah stood and strolled from the room.

  Luke’s gaze followed her. “Isn’t she the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  “Almost.” John closed the door, then pulled a chair closer to the bed. He fiddled with the brim of his hat, unsure how to initiate a conversation with his brother about women. He took a deep breath. Might as well just blurt out the question. “How do I get a woman to fall in love with me and stay that way?”

  “You’ve got your eye on Ruth, don’t you?” Luke propped himself higher against the headboard.

  “Yes.” Saying the word out loud, cemented the feeling in John’s heart. “But she’s as thorny as a porcupine more than half the time. The other times, I feel we’ve got a chance.”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  John looked up from his hat. “Because you seem to have a way with the ladies.”

  Luke shrugged. “You’ve gotten closer to matrimony than I have. Sure, I like the girls. They make life a lot more pleasant, but I’m just playing around. This man ain’t ready to settle. I’ve never made a promise to a lady. If they think I have, it’s been thoughts of their own making, not anything I’ve said.”

  “But they flock all over you.”

  Luke gave a sly grin. “I’m a handsome devil. They can’t resist.”

  John shook his head. “So, you have any advice?”

  “I like to make them jealous.” Luke winked. “But I wouldn’t advise it with that one. From what I’ve seen, she’s a spitfire.” He reached over and clapped a hand on top of John’s. “Be yourself, John. Ruth seems like a smart little gal. She’ll see your worth and that’s all it’ll take.”

  He hoped so. John nodded and left the room. The women’s voices filtered from the kitchen. Instead of stopping to talk with Ruth and her sisters, he headed out the front door and around the house. He paused and stared at the small building he called home. It’d sure be wonderful to see a light in the window and know that a pretty gal waited up for him.

  *

  “Why don’t you tell the sheriff how you feel about him?” Deborah hung a damp towel on a nail in the wall to let it dry, and fetched a clean one from a shelf.

  Ruth let the curtain fall into place and turned from the window that faced toward John’s cabin. Her face heated, and she busied her hands in the pan of soapy water and dirty dishes. Seems that’s all she ever did, and her hands showed the results of constantly being in water. Oh, well. Who needed the soft hands of a lady anyway? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.” Deborah took the wet plate from Ruth’s hand, dried it, then put it with the stack on the counter. “Your eyes follow the man whenever he’s in the room, your face turns pink when he catches you looking, and you seem at peace when you’re keeping time with him.”

  “I don’t keep time with the sheriff.” Ruth handed her a bowl.

  “Whatever you say. When you’re in his company, then. Now, you’re helping him fix up the town to bring in more women. Sounds to me like he’s digging up ways to keep you close.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Was he? She peered out the window again. John disappeared into the cabin. Within minutes, a golden glow shined through the tiny window. If he wanted to pass the time with her, all he had to do was ask. Ruth might put up a gruff front in order not to seem brash, but obviously it wasn’t a secret that she enjoyed his company.

/>   She sighed. When had all that changed? When did John Powell become one of the few men she could trust? Regardless, marriage wasn’t in the foreseeable future, so she’d have to limit her contact with him. It wouldn’t be fair to string him along. With all the plans John was making, he most likely thought they’d become part of the romance in town. No. Not until her sisters were grown and taken care of. Then, she’d consider a relationship with him.

  “How do you like Luke? The two of you seem to get along well.” Ruth handed Deborah another dish.

  “He’s nice to talk to, but the man is a dandy. Really likes the ladies.” Deborah stacked the dish on a nearby shelf. “But he’s harmless flirt. I enjoy sitting with him. He makes me laugh, and besides the sheriff, he’s the only single man in town who hasn’t proposed.”

  Good. She’d seen Luke’s forwardness. He definitely wasn’t the down-to-earth man John was. She smiled. Yes, if she wanted to marry and settle down, John would be the man she’d pick.

  Chapter 16

  “How are you feeling this morning, Mister Powell?” Ruth set a breakfast tray beside the table and scrunched her nose. The odor of a stale, unwashed body filled the room.

  “Better.” He pushed to a sitting position, his face twisting. “Why aren’t you in church with the others?”

  “I volunteered to sit with you.” She tucked a napkin into his collar.

  “I’m not a complete invalid.” Luke pushed her hand away. His face reddened. “My apologies. Being confined to the bed is not a pleasant way to pass the time.” He studied her. “My whiter-than-snow brother is speaking today, since the preacher isn’t here. I’m surprised you aren’t there to listen.”

  Ruth shrugged. No one told her John was speaking. She remembered someone mentioning he did from time-to-time, but doubted it would’ve made a difference. Somebody needed to stay home and tend Luke, and it seemed the better choice for her. Care for a sick man, or listen to John pound into her head what a sinner she was.