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

by Cynthia Hickey

  Amos looked Gabe’s way, then dashed around the corner to the saloon and raced inside. Gabe followed, pushing through the swinging doors into a smoke-filled room. Immediately a heavily painted woman in a scarlet dress sashayed his way displaying more of the female form than should be showed to men not her husband. Gabe shook his head and studied the crowd for Amos.

  There he was, beside the bar, with a whiskey already in hand. Gabe bellied up next to him. “Got a concern with my missus, Amos?”

  “Can’t say as I do.” Amos tossed the drink back and waved for another. “Just getting acquainted since she’s mothering my cousins.”

  “Distant cousins.”

  “Still blood. More than you can say.” Amos turned and leaned against the bar, elbows propped on the polished oak. “Kind of funny how you think getting hitched is going to save your land. I wonder if your lovely wife knows how you’re using her.”

  “My wife knows everything.” Gabe jabbed his index finger into Amos’s chest. “Stay away from my land, my wife, my children.”

  “Or what?”

  “I’ll take the law into my own hands.” Gabe gave him one more hard jab then stormed back outside. He paced up and down the street, allowing the night air to cool his anger before heading to his room.

  He shouldn’t have allowed Amos to rile him. But just looking at the man made Gabe want to punch him in the nose. And now, he’d threatened him in front of witnesses. Did he even use the brain God gave him?

  ###

  Charity rushed the children to the hotel. Asked, Gabe had said. Ordered was more like it! Gabriel Williams rarely asked for anything. Most likely she’d have to bail him out of jail come morning. Maybe. She might leave him there to rot!

  “Come on, you two. Time for bed.” She unlocked the door to their room and smiled at the sight of two beds. Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to sleep next to Gabriel. She wasn’t ready for such intimacy. Not unless he professed to love her and asked her to stay past their agreed upon date. Otherwise, he could stay on his side of the room and she would stay on hers.

  Once Meg and Sam were tucked into bed, Charity blew out the lamp and toed off her boots. She pulled the room’s only chair, a straight-backed one made of oak, to the window, and sat down to wait.

  Amos wandered past the hotel and glanced up at the window as if he knew which room was theirs. Charity ducked behind the curtain. A moment later, she made out Gabriel’s form headed her way. Amos ducked into a nearby alley. What was that evil man planning? Was he lying in ambush for Gabriel?

  Charity leaped up and tried to open the window. Nailed shut. She needed to warn her husband. He possibly headed toward the hotel and danger.

  She grabbed her boots and slipped her feet into them. Her boot caught in the hem of her dress, and she stumbled, banging her shin on the bed frame. She hissed against the pain.

  After checking to make sure the children slept, she dropped the room key into her pocket and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  Hitching her skirt above her ankles, she thundered down the stairs with an odd jerking gait after hitting her leg, past a startled elderly couple, and into the street. Gabriel came her way with his head down. She thought of calling out to him, but didn’t want to alert Amos that she knew he was close by. Instead, she took a deep breath and walked, or rather limped, toward her husband as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  A hand grabbed her arm and jerked her into the alley. Before she could scream, her captor clamped a hand over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off her feet.

  She kicked, connecting with his shin, and heard a grunt. She bit the fleshy part of her attacker’s palm. He released his grip. She stomped hard on his foot. When he let go of her, she dashed into the street and collided with Gabriel.

  “Charity? What’s wrong? What happened?” He gripped her shoulders.

  She pointed to the alley. “Someone grabbed me. I didn’t get a look at his face.”

  “You didn’t see him?” He stared intently at her. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m not hurt.” A little bruised maybe. And scared. “I saw no one but Amos a few minutes ago, but this man felt bigger.”

  “That could be the fear talking.” Gabriel released her and clenched his fists. “I’ll kill him.”

  She grabbed his sleeve. “I’m not positive it was Amos. I fought and got away. Please don’t accuse someone without proof.”

  He shook free. “What if he would have … hurt you? Done … despicable things?”

  She placed a hand on her churning stomach. “He didn’t. He wouldn’t.” Everyone in Virginia City knew her. No one would hurt her, would they? Of course, someone new could have drifted to town and taken advantage of a foolish woman going out at night alone.

  Gabriel glanced down the alley then took Charity by the elbow and pulled her back to the hotel. He stopped in the shadows at the corner. “What are you doing outside alone?”

  “I was waiting for you by the window, and—a” She yanked free. “I saw Amos duck into the alley and thought he was lying in wait for you. I came out to warn you.”

  “As much as I appreciate the thought, you could have been killed, or worse.” He bent to make his eyes even with hers. “I never took you for a simple woman.” He knocked on her head. “I thought God gave you more sense.”

  “Simple?” She planted her fists on her hips, wanting nothing more than to hit him. Forget about how scared she had been. “See if I worry about your safety again, you ungrateful lout!”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “You are an infuriating woman.”

  He pulled her close. Twisting his fingers in her hair, he bent and claimed her lips with a ferocity that matched the anger burning in her chest. She planted her hands against him, prepared to shove him away, then relented, melting against him. Her hands drifted up his muscled back and around his neck. His arms lowered, wrapping around her. Charity closed her eyes and drifted with the sensation.

  ###

  Tears burned Amos’s eyes as he watched Gabe kiss his bride. His fingers twitched over the six-shooter on his hip. It would be so easy to aim and pull the trigger. But if he missed, he’d hit Charity, and killing a woman was something he could not live with. He had not sunk that low.

  What were they thinking kissing in public? Had they no shame? Maybe Charity wasn’t as virtuous as Maggie had been after all.

  Amos wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve. He had almost laughed out loud when Gabe confronted him in the saloon. The man was itching for a fight. One that Amos was more than ready to give him. But if he were to kill Gabe, it needed to look like an accident.

  The children and Charity would suffer no matter how he died, but they would want nothing to do with Amos if they knew he took away their father and husband. Amos wanted nothing more than to be a husband and a father. And he would do almost anything to obtain what he considered his right.

  19

  If Gabe pulled Charity any closer they would meld into one being. He’d never tasted anything so sweet; felt his blood rush quite so fast; felt hair as silky soft as hers when it cascaded over his fingers. It wasn’t until a drunken man staggered by, throwing out obscene suggestions that Gabe realized he’d kissed Charity on the street corner like a common thug. A disorderly cowpoke in town for a bit of frivolity.

  With as much cheer as a child sent to the woodshed, he set her away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have behaved that way.”

  But when he realized how close she had come to danger, maybe even death, he had lost all capacity for reason.

  In spite of the urge to pull her in for another kiss, Gabe turned Charity toward the hotel. “Go on. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  Her eyes searched his face before she touched her lips, nodded, and whirled to run inside. Her skirts blew, offering him a glimpse of a lace-trimmed petticoat. Oh, but she had felt good in his arms. Her curves fit his planes as if God made them to fit together. Kissing Maggie had been pleasant
, but she’d been nowhere near as passionate as Charity.

  Gabe rubbed his hands down his face. How would he survive the night sleeping in the same room as his fiery wife? Sure, they’d be in separate beds, but he’d hear her move, hear her snores. He wanted his husbandly rights with Charity. He could no longer contemplate allowing her to leave come spring. Lord, make her feel the same way about me. Let our winter Bible readings touch her heart so she loves You and me.

  Their kiss hadn’t left her unaffected. Only a man with no emotion or feeling in his body would think so. He was definitely a man with feeling. Gabe grinned, remembering the feel of her melting in his arms. The ardor of her kiss. Whistling, he pushed open the hotel door and made his way to their room.

  The lamp’s wick had been turned down low. Charity’s red hair fanned across the pillow in the bed beside Meg. Sam snorted and rolled over in the bed Gabe would share with his son. He glanced at Charity’s back. Given the choice, he’d snuggle with her. Not that he had that option.

  He laid his shirt and britches across the back of the chair, then pulled back the thin blanket and climbed into bed beside Sam. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared through the dim light at the rough planks across the ceiling. He needed to think of something other than Charity.

  What was he going to do about Amos? Now that his fondness for Charity had leaped into love, he wanted to explore the feelings, not dwell on a loco man out to get land that once belonged to Maggie. He grunted. So much for not thinking about his wife. Her face overshadowed his every thought. He exhaled hard enough to ruffle his bangs and pulled his attention to something else.

  He needed to finish the house. Short of shooting Amos, that was the only way to get the man to leave them alone. Again, he wanted to kick himself for giving in to a moment of anger and making that stupid wager.

  What was he thinking that night? He knew gambling was wrong. Anger was wrong. But Amos knew just where his weak spots were. Now, the man threatened to take the children. What could he possibly want with them?

  Gabe rolled to his side. If Charity left, and Amos took custody of Meg and Sam, Gabe would be alone. He’d have no one to provide for, to protect. He might as well quit living.

  ###

  Charity lay as still as possible, focusing on keeping her breathing steady, as Gabriel readied for bed. She inched her hand toward her face and brushed her fingers across her still tingling lips. She never imagined a kiss could make a person lose all reason or go as limp as a rag doll. She wanted another one and another.

  What would Gabriel do if she climbed out of bed, moved Sam to lie beside his sister, and Charity took the little boy’s place? Would Gabriel kick her out? Act outraged? Or would he gather her in his arms and make her feel like a proper wife? Would he be upset if she ruined his plans of an annulment?

  Tears stung her eyes. She blinked to clear them, not wanting Gabriel to know she wasn’t asleep. She couldn’t be the reason for his plans not succeeding.

  She had no idea how to make him want her. No idea what made a good wife. Her heart ached. She saw her future, and it looked as grim and drab as the dreariest winter day. God would again take away the person most important to her. She sniffed. Unless she figured out a way to keep him.

  She’d thought gold was the answer, but time was running out. “I love you, Gabriel Williams,” she whispered. “Someday, you’ll love me, too.”

  The next morning, Charity avoided Gabriel’s eyes as if his glance would turn her into wood. Her cheeks flushed at each thought of their kiss. The drive home loomed before them like an eternity. She trembled as he helped her into the wagon after breakfast, his strong hands burning her skin through the calico fabric of her dress.

  “Are you angry with me?” Gabriel tilted her face until she looked at him.

  “No.” Heaven help her. “It was a heated moment. A kiss out of fear for my safety.” If only it could have been from more than that. She busied herself getting Meg situated in the back with a quilt.

  Gabriel sighed and climbed beside her. After a stop at the mercantile, where he loaded their packages in back with the children, he set the horses for home, and Charity sat ramrod straight against the bench back. If she fell against him, he might think she was being forward, and she already suffered enough embarrassment from succumbing to his kisses the way she had.

  She ran her pointer finger over her lips and cast a sideways glance at Gabriel who was grinning. “What is so funny?” She dropped her hand in her lap and twisted a handful of the blue flowered fabric.

  “Nothing.” He flicked the reins to urge the horses faster.

  “Are you laughing at me?” Had kissing her been so horrible that he thought it a laughing matter?

  “No.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You young’uns grab a peppermint stick out of that bag.” He turned his attention back to Charity. “I’m glad to know that you weren’t unaffected by the kiss.”

  “Unaffected?” She wrapped her shawl tighter around her, more as protection than against the morning chill. “I have never kissed another man besides you.”

  “Ever?” He raised his brows.

  “Lots of marriage proposals, no kisses.” She still thought he poked fun at her. What seemed so strange about her not having kissed a lot of men? She doubted most women had. It wasn’t comely or proper.

  Her shoulders slumped. He did think her a woman of loose morals. She wanted to disappear.

  “I consider it a privilege that I was your first.”

  A privilege? The man toyed with her affections. She put her hands on her cheeks in an effort to cool them. What should be her response? “Thank you?” The wagon wheel hit a rut in the road, and her thanks came out as more of a hiccup.

  He tossed his head back and guffawed, the sound ringing through the trees. Despite her discomfort at the topic, Charity joined in with his laughter. There was hope for them yet.

  Gabriel took one hand off the reins and laid it over hers. “You’re good for me, Charity. I haven’t laughed as much my whole life as I have the last couple of months with you.”

  No one had ever told her she was good for them, before. She liked it. She grinned and squeezed his hand. The sun shone brighter, the birds sang lovelier, and Charity’s heart sailed with the wispy clouds in the cerulean sky.

  ###

  Amos’s horse reared when Gabe laughed. He fought with the reins in order to stay in the saddle. He didn’t know why he followed them. Why he tortured himself so. His own farm was showing signs of neglect because of the time he spent spying.

  But watching Gabe and Charity interact with each other and the children let Amos almost believe he was part of a family. He shouldn’t do this. He turned his horse toward his own land. Shadowing the Williams’ family was wrong and only made his heart ache more for what he didn’t have.

  Soon enough, they would all be snowed in. Amos had one more surprise up his sleeve before that happened. Then he would have plenty of time during winter to cook up another surprise for Gabe. Maybe one that would, this time, warrant Amos a pretty wife.

  If those plans failed, maybe opportunity would toss something else in his lap. Something that would wound Gabe to the center of his being.

  20

  A wagon sat in front of their soddy with the horse already grazing in the corral beside the barn. Gabriel set the wagon and helped Charity down. She shaded her eyes with one hand. “It’s Mabel and Hiram. What are they doing here?”

  “Not sure.” Gabriel lifted Meg down. “But Hiram is grinning like a hound, so it can’t be bad news.”

  Charity rushed and enveloped Mabel in a hug. “It’s so good to see you. We weren’t expecting company.” Lady and Prince bounded from the barn.

  “Some watch dog you have there. Thought at first she was going to take my head off, but she settled down once she figured out I was up to no harm.” Hiram shook Gabriel’s hand. “It is a dog, isn’t it?”

  “So Charity says. Red Feather gave them to us. The young’uns are qui
te taken with the pup.”

  “They are dogs. Irish Wolfhounds.” Charity released Mabel and crouched to throw her arms around Lady’ neck. Prince bounded toward the creek with Sam and Meg chasing after. “Did you miss us, girl? Did you keep the bad guys away?”

  Hiram pulled Gabriel to the side and lowered his voice. Charity continued to scratch behind Lady’s ears as she strained to hear while pretending not to.

  “The dogs were locked up when I got here, and the cattle are loose again,” Hiram said.

  Charity peeked from beneath her bonnet. Gabriel frowned. “I’m at my wit’s end, Hiram. How did he get here so fast? I just saw him. I went to the—” He caught Charity watching. “Meet me over by the barn.”

  Hiram glanced her way. “Sure thing.”

  “Guess it’s up to us to unload the wagon.” Charity planted her hands on her thighs and pushed to her feet. “The men will get the heavy stuff when they finish with their secrets.”

  Mabel grabbed a bag of flour. “Don’t take it personal. They think they’re protecting us. With all the years Hiram have I have been hitched, he still forgets sometimes that we’re supposed to be a team. God created woman to be a help mate. Sometimes men seem to forget that.”

  Charity folded her arms on the wagon bed and rested her head on them. “It does hurt my feelings. We should be partners. We should share the good and the bad.” She took a deep breath. “He kissed me last night.”

  “Do tell.” Mabel’s smile widened.

  Charity turned and leaned against the buckboard, the rough wood poking into her back. “I saw Amos Jenkins sneaking around like he was trying to waylay Gabriel, so I left the hotel room and went to warn him. Someone grabbed me and dragged me into the alley. I didn’t get a look at my attacker, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t Amos.” She shuddered at the remembrance of a stranger’s hands on her. “I got away but Gabriel was furious I put myself in danger. It was the most brutal, most wonderful, kiss.”