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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Ruth forced her breathing to stay steady. “It’ll take a special woman to be the wife of a sheriff. One that can handle the fear that must come with the job. It’d be difficult for a wife to worry every time her husband stepped foot outside the door.”

  “You’re right. It’ll take a special woman.” His gaze fell on her, not blinking, and burned her with its intensity.

  Goodness, the man awakened feelings she’d rather leave buried. No other man made her blood boil or her heart race. Did he have a clue as to how difficult it was for her to stick with her resolve of remaining single?

  John sighed and shook his head. She could almost read his mind. He didn’t understand her. What would he say if she told him she thought about his arms around her? His burning kiss? Would he laugh at her?

  “How do you like living smack dab in the middle of the town? Saturday nights might get a little noisy with the saloon so close and all.”

  Ruth shrugged. “It’s fine. Most likely makes it easier on our customers for us to be here. No more traipsing up to Luke’s. Maybe some of the men will spend their money here, rather than the saloon.”

  “Prettying up the town is working. Had two more families move in the last week. Settled on land a little ways out of town. If your sister still has her heart set on teaching, she’ll have a schoolroom full.”

  “That’s good.” Ruth pulled a pan from the shelf above her head. Why all the small talk? Not that she wasn’t grateful. The topic before had grown much too uncomfortable.

  “I appreciate your help.”

  She sighed and turned, planting her fists on her hips. “What’s on your mind, John?”

  *

  Uh-oh. All he’d really wanted was a little of her time and attention. What could he say to keep her from her work? “Uh, do you want to attend Miriam’s wedding with me?”

  She frowned. “I’ll most likely be cooking for the event. Probably won’t have time to join in the frolics.”

  “Surely you can manage a dance or two. Take a spin around the dance floor with me.” He studied her. High spots of color appeared on her cheeks. She looked as pretty as a spring morning, even with flour dusting her nose. She ducked her head.

  Good. She wasn’t as immune to him as she liked to act.

  He still didn’t know the exact moment he decided he preferred marriage over bachelorhood. It might’ve been when he first laid eyes on Ruth Stallings. Now, if he could only get rid of the haunted look in her eyes. He guessed it maybe had to do with the circumstances that caused her and her family to flee Mississippi, but he needed the right moment to ask deeper questions.

  “Well, I’d best be going. There’s a group of men camped on the outskirts of town. Gotta make sure they’re going to behave.”

  Ruth paled. “How many men? Ex-Soldiers?”

  “Don’t know. Just heard about them.” He slapped his hat on his head. “Don’t worry, Ruth. I won’t let them bother the townsfolk.”

  She gave him a barely imperceptible nod, her eyes large. “Don’t tell them about the restaurant, please. I won’t have enough to feed them.”

  “All right.” Strange request, but the look on her face didn’t leave room for argument. Most likely, someone else would tell them anyway. He couldn’t recall seeing Ruth this afraid before. Not even when Hiram tried to steal a kiss. Who, or what, caused a shadow to pass over her eyes? He vowed to find out.

  He ambled outside into the noon sun, and squinted against the glare. His boots thumped on the new sidewalks. Down the street, the livery sported a new coat of paint. Some well-meaning soul attempted a spot of color with planted wild flowers around the church. Yep, Painted Bluff would soon be as pretty as its name. Especially with the yellow pine, spruce, and oak trees filling the spaces between buildings.

  His long strides ate up the half-mile between town and the strangers. Five of them sat around a boulder, a stack of cards dealt between them. “Afternoon, gentlemen.”

  One burly guy, rusty beard, and a deep groove between his brows, glanced up from his hand. His gaze locked on the badge adorning John’s chest. “Sheriff.”

  John studied each of them, then returned to the one who’d spoken. “Mind stating your business in my town?”

  “Just passing through looking for someone.” The man stood. “Name’s Hodge.”

  “Who’re you looking for?”

  “A crook and a murderer.”

  “Won’t find anyone like that here. This is a peaceful town.” John hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants. “I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “It’ll be the least likely person you’d suspect, Sheriff. Got the face of an angel, and hair shot through with colors of the sunset. Keep your eyes open. We’ll be gone by morning.” The man plopped back on the log he’d used as a stool, signifying the conversation was over.

  John got the uneasy feeling he hadn’t seen the last of Mr. Hodge.

  *

  Strangers in town. Not a family, but men, possibly former soldiers. Ruth choked back her fear. They couldn’t have found her all the way up here. She scanned the street for unfamiliar faces, relaxing when she spotted only friends.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Grandma grabbed an apron from a nail behind the kitchen door. “Hank’s got to get back to work, so I might as well help you with lunch.” She peered at Ruth. “Are you getting enough sleep, sweetie? You look peaked.”

  “Oh, yes. I’m fine.” Ruth forced a smile. “How’s Hank?”

  “Rar’n to get married. That man makes me feel like a young girl again.” Grandma blushed. “It’ll be nice to spend my elder years with a companion. Not that you girls aren’t company, mind you.”

  She patted Grandma’s shoulder on her way to the oven. “I understand.”

  “Fourth of July picnic is in a few days.” Grandma slapped a ball of dough on the counter. “Who are you going with?”

  Ruth frowned. “No one’s asked me. John asked me to be his partner at your wedding, but I told him I was too busy. He didn’t mention the picnic.”

  “Maybe he plans on bidding the most for your lunch at the auction.” Grandma winked. “And a girl is never too busy to dance with a handsome man.”

  “I forgot about that silly game.” Ruth slumped against the counter. It didn’t take a wise man to know the lunches by the Stallings women would bring the highest bids. The town wasn’t overflowing with competition.

  “Don’t be like that. Luke said the money goes toward the new schoolhouse.” She pounded the dough, sending particles into the air.

  “It’s not the fundraiser I have a problem with,” Ruth said. “It’s the attention we’ll get. Those things always remind me of a slave auction. Can I decline to participate?”

  “Don’t you dare. Your pail will fetch a pretty price, and this is Deborah’s dream we’re talking about.” Grandma swiped at the bridge of her nose, leaving a streak of white powder.

  “You’re right.” Ruth crossed her arms and gazed through the window toward the street. Grandma was also right in the fact John would most likely try outbid any of the other men. While Ruth didn’t know anyone else she’d prefer to eat alone with, the action would only encourage him. That’s something she didn’t want, and couldn’t have. Maybe she could come up with a plan to fool him into bidding on someone else’s lunch.

  She headed to the back of the house, where Deborah sat buckling her shoes. “Good morning.”

  Her sister wrinkled her brow. “Good morning. What has you so chipper?”

  “Picnic is coming up. What are you taking?”

  “Egg salad. Simple, easy, and delicious.” She stood and let her skirt fall to her ankles. “Why?”

  “What color fabric are you going to line your pail with?”

  Deborah narrowed her eyes. “The pink calico. Sarah’s using the green.”

  “Great. I’ll use the blue.” Ruth whirled and almost skipped back to the kitchen. Her plan would be foolproof.

  Chapter 20

  �
��Come on, y’all! We’re going to be late.” Ruth’s heart pounded as she exchanged the fabric in her pail for Deborah’s. “I’m going on ahead to set up the entries.” Only she’d know what she’d done, since otherwise the buckets were identical. She slipped her arms through the handles of the four lunch containers.

  If not for the shade of massive oak trees lining the road, the late afternoon heat would be unbearable. Instead, the humidity hovered, giving everything a hazy appearance. Ruth stuck out her bottom lip and blew a puff of air to ruffle the hair that escaped from her bun. Her boots clomped on the new boardwalks, and she waved to the others who flocked toward the church.

  She seemed to have found a home in Painted Bluff. Spending the rest of her life in the laid-back town didn’t feel like a hardship. She had her sisters and grandmother close, a job to keep her busy, and money in the bank for emergencies. What more could a woman want out of life?

  John stepped from the sheriff’s office as if in answer to her question. Yes, there was that; the love of a good man. Ruth shrugged. Someday, maybe, but she didn’t want the added burden of John waiting around until she made up her mind.

  She gripped the pails tighter and hopped onto the road. She dashed between slow-moving buggies and wagons, then made her way to the auction table set up in front of the church.

  Thank goodness somebody had the sense to put the make-shift table under a shade tree. Already, perspiration trickled between her shoulder blades, dampening her rust-colored dress. She loved Fourth of July activities, but wished the day came during cooler weather.

  She scowled at Deborah, who strolled up looking as cool and poised as a proper woman should. Her white dress and blue ribbon made her stand out as something pure and unattainable in the mountain town. How did she always manage to look so put together?

  Squelching the guilt pressing against her chest, Ruth set the swapped lunches amongst others on top of the red-and-white checkered tablecloth that hid the rough planks of wood laid over two saw horses. She hated deceiving her sister. But she couldn’t continue to let John pursue her. Not when it would leave them both heartbroken. He deserved more than a wife with a murdering secret. Deborah would be the perfect complement as a sheriff’s wife.

  She stiffened with the realization of her sister as Mrs. Powell. Why hadn’t the thought occurred to her before? Because she’d thought Deborah too young. Well, married to John most likely wouldn’t be a hardship for a woman, no matter her age.

  “We’re all set. No telling anyone which pail belongs to who, now. It’s a secret.” Ruth wiped sweaty palms on her skirt.

  Deborah giggled and glanced in John’s direction. “Don’t worry. Not a word will pass these lips.”

  Ruth turned to hide her grin. Deborah wouldn’t waste any time in letting John know which donation was Ruth’s. Perfect.

  The crowd gathered around. Hank stood on a stool behind the auction items and removed his hat. “Okay, gentlemen. Here’s the rules: Highest bidder gets to share the food with the cook. Don’t bother bidding on Miriam Stalling’s pail,” he placed on hand on the one with yellow checkered fabric. “It ain’t for sale. I’d hate to shoot any of you varmints for infringing on my territory.” He grinned. “There’s a few more lovely ladies to fight over. We’ll be changing things up a bit. When I auction an item, the pretty gal will stand beside it. No confusion that way. No surprises either, but like I said, I’m not taking the chance on not eating with my gal.”

  Ruth bit her lip. Her plan wouldn’t work. Instead, she’d wind up eating her sister’s egg salad. She hated egg salad. Deborah stood beside Ruth’s ham and cheese, her cheeks turning a rose pink. The bidding rose, until Luke shouted out five dollars. The farmers grumbled. None of them could match that price.

  When Ruth’s name was called, she moved with leaden steps, tripping over an exposed tree root. If not for someone’s hand offered in aid, she’d have landed on her knees. Her face flamed as she took her spot. Several eager bachelors smiled her way. Heavens. She tilted her chin and stared at the row of trees behind them.

  Beginning at two dollars, the bids increased until Ruth felt faint. John raised his hat. Hank clapped. “Sold at six dollars. Highest price of the day, folks. Enjoy your meals. The parade will be along shortly and fireworks and dancing this evening. It’s a full day of fun. Don’t plan on going home any time soon.”

  Ruth placed her hand in John’s and allowed him to lead her beneath a magnolia tree. Deborah met them, hands on hips.

  “I’d like the lunch I prepared, please.” She thrust Ruth’s at her. “Somehow they were mixed up. Luke prefers egg salad.”

  “How could that have happened?” Ruth mumbled and handed over the pail.

  “I wonder.” Deborah narrowed her eyes, then whirled to rejoin Luke a few feet away.

  John spread a faded quilt on the ground, smashing fallen magnolia blossoms beneath his feet, releasing their sweet scent into the air. Romance was all around them. Too bad ice sat like a rock in Ruth’s intestines. How could she hold out against the admiration in John’s eyes?

  She removed the cover from their food. “Twelve dollars is a lot of money, John.”

  “It’s worth it to spend some time alone with the prettiest girl in town.” He winked. “Worried about me?”

  “I wasn’t aware a sheriff made a lot of money.” She unwrapped the grease paper from his sandwich and handed it to him.

  “Who else am I going to spend it on? It’s just me. I’ve already got everything I need to start building on the house I want.” He took a bite. “This is good.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced around to see Sarah eating with Daniel and Deborah, giggling at something Luke said as he lay beside her, gazing into her face. Maybe things worked out for the best after all. A nice conversation with John beat fighting off Luke’s flirtation, or the persistent proposals she would’ve gotten from someone else.

  “How’s the new restaurant location?”

  “It’s wonderful.” Ruth poured lemonade into two tin cups and handed one to John. “To be self-reliant, and to have money in the bank, is precious to me.”

  “There are more important things in life than money, Ruth.” John’s gaze bored into hers. “Sometimes, I feel as if you look at money like a god.”

  “Money’s important, but I don’t worship it.” Who did he think he was to lecture her? “I gave to the river people, remember? I work hard for what I have. I don’t mind giving to those in need, but I don’t believe in frivolous tossing away of hard-earned currency. And that’s what this ridiculous lunch was.” She tightened her grip on her cup to keep from throwing her drink in his face. “There’s nothing wrong with saving for a rainy day.”

  John raised his eyebrows. “Seems like it’s more than that to you. You’ve been working like a crazy woman since you arrived in town. You won’t even stop working long enough to attend church, or your grandma’s wedding.”

  “I’ll be at the wedding. I’ll just be … working. Somebody needs to supply the food. Besides, me and church don’t go together.”

  He raised his mug in a toast. “Point made.”

  Ruth sighed. “Why’d you bid on me if all you wanted to do was lecture?”

  “I enjoy verbally sparring with you. You’re a worthy adversary.” He leaned closer. “And I’m concerned for you. For your heart, your mind, your soul. I wasn’t fooled when Deborah asked for her lunch. You switched them, knowing I would purchase yours. Why?”

  *

  John chuckled as Ruth paled. The woman was as transparent as the fog that sometimes hung over the river. Thick enough to hide things on the surface, but transparent enough if someone insisted on digging deeper. For reasons known only to God, she wanted to avoid God like the plague. Well, John wouldn’t play her game. He had plans of his own, and they included the lovely Ruth. Whether she wanted them to or not.

  After setting her mug on the ground beside her, Ruth folded her hands. She took a deep breath, and speared him with a glassy gaze. “You seem t
o have obtained a certain affection for me.”

  “I have.” John peered over the rim of his drink.

  “I don’t think it’s wise to encourage you when I don’t have the same feelings, or faith, that you do.”

  Although his heart seized, he lowered his cup and kept a smile on his face. “Why do you think that?” John Powell was not normally the type of man to chase a woman who wasn’t interested, but Ruth was different. Her eyes told him she cared for him. They also told him something scared her.

  “Because, I’m not interested in marriage. I’d only mislead you.”

  “I don’t believe you, Ruth.” John took her hands in his. “I think you care for me more than you’ll admit. I think you’re keeping a secret you believe makes you feel unworthy of me, or anyone else. Either that, or it’s a secret you feel would put me in danger. I also honestly believe you do want to get married and have children someday and that God is knocking on the door of your heart. One day soon, you’ll let Him in. But not until you feel you have nowhere else to go.”

  She yanked free. “You have a wonderful imagination.”

  John’s shoulders sagged. How could he get through to her? Not only about his feelings, but God’s love? The task seemed insurmountable. He kept his resolve to pray. He’d continue to love her, and let God do the rest. He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s take a walk by the bluff. We might be able to catch a breeze.”

  He helped Ruth to her feet, then led her away from the crowd. His mind whirled as he tried to come up with words to convince her how much she needed God. Needed him.

  They stopped at the edge of the bluff. Ruth crossed her arms and stared over the water. A slight breeze teased at the few strands of hair that pulled free from their bun. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin. John had never seen a more beautiful picture. He shoved aside the urge to kiss her until she swooned.

  “Stop staring at me.”

  His face heated when he noticed her eyes were open. “Uh, I wasn’t.”

  “Yes, you were. Do I have something on my face?” She rubbed her cheek.