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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Glad to help.” Jacob returned her grin. Finding himself compared to an angel could only be a good thing. In the past, no one considered him much more than a failure. But for this minute, this one instant, he’d believe he could be something more.

  JJ burst into the cabin. “Eli’s here, again.” His eyes darted from Phoebe to Jacob. “Come courtin’, I suppose. Got himself a handful of weeds.”

  Spots of color appeared on Phoebe’s cheeks. Her jaw hardened. “This won’t take but a moment, Mr. Wright. Then JJ will take you to Dixon’s. Thank you again for fixing my shoe. I’m much obliged.” She squared her shoulders and marched outside.

  Jacob peered through the open door. A wiry man stood bareheaded in faded overalls and a red and black flannel shirt at the bottom of the steps. He clutched the last of the season’s wildflowers.

  “I come to apologize for my behavior yesterday, Phoebe. And beg you to reconsider my offer.” Eli thrust out his hand.

  She took a wide stance and crossed her arms. “I’ve no more need of your pitying proposal, Eli. I’m no longer a cripple.” She strode across the porch. “Mr. Wright, the new schoolteacher, fixed my shoe.”

  Cold eyes darted in Jacob’s direction. “We don’t take to strangers and their city ways here.”

  Especially when they trod on staked property, Jacob wagered. He nodded a greeting. “Just repaying the kindness of these folks.” If he were a betting man, he’d also gamble that Phoebe’s disability had put her right where Eli wanted her. Jacob considered himself a fair judge of character. From what he could see, Eli wanted a meek woman who obeyed his every command. And if her demeanor toward the man was any indication, Phoebe was far from being a meek sparrow.

  Eli glanced from Phoebe to Jacob. The flowers fell to the ground at his feet. “Watch your back, mister.” He glared at Phoebe. “Word around these here parts, Phoebe, is that your pa didn’t come home last night.”

  Her face paled except for two bright spots high on her cheekbones. “How would folks know that?”

  “There’s ways. Seems he might have stuck his nose somewhere it didn’t belong.”

  3

  Jacob pushed open the door to a simple wood-sided building. Outside stood a lone red and white gas pump, overhead, a painted sign that read, Dixon’s Store.

  “Afternoon, stranger.” A portly man wearing a starched white, canvas apron strolled around the counter with his hand extended. “I’m Dixon”

  Jacob clasped the offered hand and shook. “I’m Jacob Wright, the new school teacher.”

  “You’re late.”

  “Got lost.”

  Dixon’s laugh boomed across the room. “Figured as much. Hope you didn’t spend the night in the cold.”

  “The Lillie family put me up.”

  “Good people.” He skirted around a pickle barrel to Jacob’s side of the counter.

  “Could you draw me a map to the school?” Jacob leaned on the counter.

  “No need. It’s easy to find.” The man waved his hands in the air as he gave directions. “Go past the Lillie place. When you hit a fork, veer right. You can’t miss it.”

  “I’ve seen more than one fork.” And he really didn’t want to get lost again.

  “Yeah, but there’s a big old oak there marked with the initials of folks when they started courting.” Dixon cleared his throat then grinned. “Just go aways down that road until you come to the shanty. It ain’t much, but a hardy young fellow like yourself ought to whip it into shape in no time.”

  “You over-estimate my carpentry skills.” Jacob eyed bottles of cola under the glass top of a cooler. He licked his lips. Been a long time since he’d tasted his favorite drink.

  “The roof don’t leak in the school nor the cabin, and folks around here even stocked the place with food and wood. Make sure you let me know if you need anything else.”

  “You have my word on it. About my compensation—”

  “Pay’s ten dollars a week. First installment upon your arrival.” Dixon punched a button on the register and the drawer snapped open with a ding. He pulled out a yellowed envelope. “We’re mighty glad to have you, son. When you’re ready for school to start, give a holler. And feel free to grab one of them bottles you’re eyeballing.”

  “Thank you, I will.” He used the corner of the cooler to pop off the bottle top. “Oh, is there a church in town?”

  “We got a church, but no pastor. You don’t preach, do you?”

  Jacob scratched his head. “I have been known to upon occasion.”

  He’d done a lot of everything a time or two, a lawmaker, a furniture builder, a general laborer. After his gallivanting around the country, he looked forward to this new adventure and challenge. “Give me some time to get school started. I might be able to whip up a sermon every few weeks until you get someone regular.”

  “Now, that’s fine.” Dixon’s smile stretched to reveal a missing tooth. “All right, then. You’re all set. Oh, wait. Since you gotta pass the Lillie’s place, could you drop off this envelope?”

  Jacob took the mail and shook the store owner’s hand before striding outside. He nodded at two men sitting in rockers and whittling. One aimed a stream of tobacco toward a brass spittoon at their feet. From the brown stains around the spittoon, it looked like they missed more often than not. Jacob glanced down the poorly graded road, full of fist-sized rocks and potholes, toward his destination, then raised his drink to his mouth. Cola flavored carbonation poured over his tongue.

  Eli Coffman leaned against a tree. “Well, if it ain’t the pretty city boy.” He moved to his sway-backed mule. A strand of hay hung from Eli’s mouth. He tottered forward until he stood a foot from Jacob, then thrust his chin.

  Jacob wiped his forearm across his wet mouth and recoiled from the pungent stench of sour whiskey on the man’s breath. Hadn’t Prohibition hit this far in the hills? “Afternoon, Eli.”

  “Glad to see you’re alone, teacher. I wasn’t happy about you honing in on my girl.”

  Jacob crossed his arms. “I don’t see Phoebe as being anyone’s girl. She appears to be a woman with a mind of her own.”

  The man sagged against a post to steady. “That ain’t how folks around here see it at all.” He poked Jacob in the chest.

  Jacob dropped his soda bottle and balled his fists. He itched to reach into his pack and pull out his gun. He couldn’t. He’d sworn never to point a weapon at a human being again.

  “Take care, pretty fella. Strangers don’t fare well around these parts.” Eli stumbled back to his mule and mounted. “I aim to marry that girl.” He spat at Jacob’s striped vest. “One way or the other.” The other man rode away.

  Maybe Jacob needed to rethink his stand on violence. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and, with a trembling hand, wiped the spittle from his vest. If Eli made a point of provoking him again, Jacob couldn’t be responsible for his actions. A man could only take so much.

  He thought he’d left the threat of violence behind in the city. How did he find himself in these situations? Gritting his teeth, he stooped and picked up the shattered pieces of his drink and tossed the shards in a nearby trash can. Nodding at the two silent whittlers, he marched down the road.

  Might be wise to steer clear of Eli. The man smelled like trouble. He strolled the path out of town, dropped the check off with Grandma Lillie, then continued until he stopped at a T-junction. ‘Aways’ up the road turned out to be more like three miles.

  He caught of glimpse of Eli and mule through the tees, plodding beside the road. Jacob glared.

  Eli grinned. “Hey, city slicker. Watch yore back.”

  The man needed to watch his own back. Jacob had done nothing, other than being new to the area, to warrant the man’s malice. He shook his head and increased his pace before he did something he’d regret. Eli was too drunk to do more than shout insults, and words spewing from the mouth of a drunk failed to entice Jacob to a fight. Not anymore.

  But he did need something to ri
de. Traveling on foot consumed too much time, and didn’t seem the wisest choice with an addle-brained fool following his every move. He stared down the long, empty road stretching in the distance.

  What if Eli wasn’t full of whiskey the next time they both came this way? He wouldn’t be able to outrun someone on a horse or a mule, even if he had decent footwear. His big toe stuck through a hole in the bottom of his shoe, and his heels sported painful blisters. Not the proper attire for a sprint through the mountains.

  Tire ruts in the road showed that at least a few families owned automobiles, Jacob’s primary choice of transportation. Maybe he could find one at a cheap price. He had a bit of dough stashed away.

  The trees parted to reveal a small log shanty. He stopped short and gaped. A sagging lean-to provided shelter for cords of wood. Split logs served as walls. No windows broke up the small square footage. Thrusting his shoulders back and drawing in a deep breath, he entered his new abode. The first improvement would be to cut a place for a window in the front wall.

  Jacob set his pack and satchel on the table. Planting his fists in the small of his back, he popped out the kinks. He pulled his father’s Colt pistol from his pack and tucked it into his waistband. Maybe he should’ve shown it to Eli. But then again, it might have enticed the man to more violence than just angry words.

  A breeze blew through the open door, fluttering an envelope on the table. He reached for it and read he’d passed the school a half-mile back. There’d been a well-worn trail forking off the road. Obviously, his idea of ‘can’t miss it’ was different from the store owner’s.

  Jacob exited the cabin and headed back the way he’d come. A short walk later, he stepped into a clearing.

  The schoolhouse was a twin to his cabin, right down to its lack of windows. Windows for his home moved to second on his to-do list. First, he’d have to get some light inside the schoolhouse.

  Unlatching the door, he let it swing open. The sun’s rays landed on dust particles in the air, highlighting them like miniature diamonds. Long sanded boards served as desks. The crowning glory was a blackboard hung on the wall. A pocked wooden table served as the teacher’s desk, complete with a three-legged stool. A stack of slates sat next to a box of new chalk. Well-worn primaries lined a simple shelf. Thank you, God. Somebody in this poverty-stricken hollow knew the value of education.

  Today was the second Monday of November, 1925. God willing, he’d start teaching in a week.

  A shadow stretched across the floor.

  Jacob turned and stared into the scarlet face of Eli Coffman. Jacob slowly removed the gun from his waistband and laid it on the closet desk. He straightened his shoulders and stormed toward the other man.

  *

  “Grandma.” Phoebe hung her apron on a hook. “Can you watch the little ones? I’m going to look for Pa.” Her stomach clenched. “He’s never been gone for two days without saying so beforehand.”

  “I’d go with you if these old legs would let me.” Grandma patted her thigh. “Take the shotgun.”

  Why should today be any different? Grandma rarely left the house unless it was for church, a quilting bee, or down to Dixon’s store for a piece of horehound candy. She never traipsed the mountain. Not anymore. “I’ll try to be home by supper, by dark at the latest. Did he say where he’d gone hunting?”

  “Up the mountain is all he said.” Grandma rocked faster, a grim look on her face. “Find my boy, child. I’ll take care of the cooking today.”

  “Thank you.” Phoebe retrieved the 22 gauge from its place behind the door. It fit in the crook of her arm like an old friend. She set off into the woods behind the house, enjoying the brisk pace her new shoe allowed. Normally, the beauty around her set a whistling tune to her lips. Today, she pushed through the thick foliage, searching for a body or a trace of someone having recently passed that way.

  She kept a close watch on the sun to keep track of the time. Almost two days since Pa had left to go hunting. Did he lay dead in the hollow? Wounded on top of the mountain? Her shoulders slumped. Where should she start looking? Lord, guide my steps.

  Birds sang, unmindful of her fear. The trees whispered. If only they could tell their secrets, her search would be easier. From the direction of the old schoolhouse, banging cut through the autumn air.

  Phoebe parted a bush. Jacob stretched to hammer a shutter over a fresh-cut window. Perspiration glistened from his bare back. The straps to his overalls hung around his hips. A puckered scar peeked above the waistband of his pants. She averted her eyes. Wouldn’t do to get unseemly notions about the new schoolteacher.

  She’d wondered what he’d work on first. During her learning years, she would’ve loved more light, instead of the gas lamps that had stung her eyes with their smoke.

  “Hey, the school!” Phoebe said.

  Jacob stopped and turned with a grin. “Hey, yourself. Come see what I’ve done.” He reached for the shirt hanging on a nail.

  “Opening up the front that way is a great idea.” She strolled across the low grass. “Maybe I could come by tomorrow and sweep out the cobwebs for you.” Heat rose to her cheeks at her boldness. “In exchange for fixing my shoe.”

  “No need. But I’d like the company.” Jacob slid the hammer into a tab on his overalls, then slipped his arms through the sleeves of a red flannel shirt. “Where you headed?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m looking for my pa. He should’ve been home by sunset yesterday.” Her focus turned to the black eye and split lip Jacob sported. “What happened to you?”

  “Just a tussle. Hopefully, I look better than the other guy.”

  “Was it Eli?” Ice gripped her heart. Jacob’s newness was a threat to many of the folks living on the mountain. His life could be in danger. “He’s got a hair-trigger temper. He’s been known to send more than one person to the doctor.”

  “I held my own.”

  Phoebe smirked. “A dandy like you?”

  “Don’t let appearances fool you.” Jacob pulled up his overalls.

  “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait a second. I’ll go with you.” Jacob closed the schoolhouse door. “You shouldn’t wander by yourself.”

  “I’ve been wandering these woods since I could walk.” Phoebe snorted. There he went again, assuming things. “You’d best stick close if you don’t want to get lost.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Good point. I will.” He bowed and waved his arm. “Lead the way.”

  With a toss of her head, Phoebe marched up a path that led them farther up the mountain. Words failed her at Jacob’s nearness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone with a man. Never one as fine looking as he was, anyway.

  At a loss for words, she watched the changing colors of the leaves and listened to the breeze whisper through the branches. Jacob seemed as content not to speak as she, which reopened the door for her mind to focus on what could have befallen her pa. Her heart thumped erratically. Please, God, don’t let him be dead.

  Anything could happen to someone alone in the woods. Another hunter’s wayward bullet. Moonshiners. Plain evil folk intent on harm. Wild animals. There’d been plenty of razorback hogs roaming the woods. She swiped a hand across the moisture dripping from her eyes. No way would she let any man see her break down and cry.

  “Ow! Hold up.” Jacob hopped on one foot, turned it up, and exposed the hole in the sole of his shoe. “I’ve got a thorn.”

  Phoebe stopped. “Your shoe’s worn plumb through. You need to put cardboard inside as protection until you can get another pair.”

  “I don’t have any.” Jacob plopped on a log and plucked out a two-inch thorn. “I’ve been down on my luck since my last job. I’ve a bit of money, but I’d rather spend it on a truck.”

  She lowered herself beside him. “Most folks around here are short on money. Sometimes, simple things like sugar and coffee are hard to come by, but there ought to be some cardboard lying around some
where.”

  “I’ll make sure I always have a pot of coffee ready for you when you visit.” Jacob stood and grasped her elbow to help her rise. “That’s one thing I can’t do without.”

  What made him think she’d visit? She wasn’t the type to go after a man. Besides, he hadn’t asked to court her. If he did, Grandma would sit silently in the corner while they made mooneyes at each other. She’d have a hissy fit if she knew they wandered the woods without a chaperone. Phoebe shrugged. Nineteen years should be past the need for a watchdog.

  A coyote skittered across their path, a rabbit dangling from its mouth. Jacob jumped back and reached for his waist.

  Phoebe giggled. “You act like you forgot your gun?” Here was a strong man more scared of an animal than the poor thing would be of him. “He won’t bother you. Especially with both of us.”

  “I did forget my gun. The animal surprised me is all.”

  “You have a lot to learn.” So the man owned a weapon. Surprising, but then, Phoebe didn’t know many folks from anywhere but Pine Ridge. “Where’d you come from, anyway?”

  “Everywhere. Spent most of my childhood in Little Rock, then moseyed around, trying to find myself.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Find yourself?”

  “I’m getting there. God’s helping.”

  Phoebe sighed. She’d known her path since birth. To marry and raise a passel of kids. Not that she had anything against a woman’s role in the world, but in the Hollow’s eyes, she was already a spinster. Eli Coffman seemed to be her last chance at being a wife and mother.

  When pigs flew. She’d raise her siblings and spend her life alone rather than marry a man with a black streak running through him.

  She glanced at the lowering sun. “We’d best be heading back.” Her shoulders slumped. The look on Grandma’s face when she returned without her pa would tear at her insides.

  “A little farther.” Jacob stopped as if to listen. “I heard trucks earlier today. Came from west of my cabin. Maybe someone up there has seen your father.”