Year of Jubilee

by Peggy Trotter

  “Jubilee?”

  She jerked her head up.

  “I’d really like for us to go and visit my family. Is it okay?”

  She could do nothing but echo his last words. “Is it okay? I…you’re asking me?” A little bit of her fear turned to surprise.

  He nodded. “I know we’re business partners in this farm, but we need to work and make decisions together. Please feel free to tell me what you want. In a lot of ways, we really are a married couple like other people see us. We oughta get along and have happy lives. This is a big decision, and I aim for you to have your say.”

  * * *

  Rafe watched her face go from fear to confusion to surprise. The poor girl had no idea how transparent her emotions were most of the time. Teasingly, he gave a small smile to take away the seriousness of the moment and watched as a pink blush covered her cheeks before she lowered her head.

  Maybe she needed a spell to think on it. “You can decide over the next couple of days and let me know on the drive to church. That sound okay?”

  She nodded but didn’t lift her chin again. Rafe’s smile grew as he excused himself and went whistling out the door.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Next day, after breakfast, Rafe whistled again as he headed for the garden shed to collect implements. He stopped dead when his eyes caught Jubilee, bent over, sticking seeds in a long furrow. The shovel, rake and hoe lay next to two bushel baskets full of seed.

  “Well, I guess this is one way to know where everything is.” He ran his eye over the patch. “Is this the corn?” He indicated the mounds running east to west on the north side.

  At her nod he smiled. “Good thinking. Don’t want to shade the rest of the garden. What’s here?”

  “Cucumbers.”

  “That’s a good use of the space around the corn. Now what?” He walked down the row toward her as she started the green beans. “Give me a handful and we’ll work two rows together.”

  The beans went in quick, and they started a row of squash. Rafe grabbed the seed potatoes from the bushel basket and cut them into fours with his knife, leaving an eye in each piece.

  “Shoulda got these potatoes in earlier.” He grunted and shook his head as he placed several potato chunks in each dirt hole. “Guess we’ll have to remember for next year.”

  Next year. Shoveling the dirt to fill the hole, he wondered. Will I be planting with Jubilee again next spring? “Seems you’re experienced in garden layout. You’ve done a fine job.”

  Jubilee stood up, and Rafe could sense her assessing him.

  “I guess you’ve done this before?” He was determined to get an answer from her.

  “Yes.”

  That one word contained loads of information. “Colvin teach you?”

  “No.”

  Rafe smiled to himself as her blunt answer spoke volumes. “You must’ve been educated at the orphan’s home, then.”

  “Some.”

  He dug a few more holes for the potatoes before taking another stab at conversation. “What orphan home were you in?”

  “Philadelphia.”

  Rafe stopped and cast a glance at her. “As in, Pennsylvania?” At her nod, he let out a whistle. “Now that’s a piece away. How did you get all the way to Gibson County, Indiana?”

  “Hog tied to the back of a horse.”

  Rafe’s hands froze, and he snapped his head up. “What?”

  She ceased planting to look at him. “What’s not to understand?”

  Rafe’s brows furrowed. “You mean to tell me Colvin tied you up and hauled you here?”

  “After kidnapping me.”

  He watched her bend and poke the seeds into the ground, as if they were talking of the weather. Kidnapping? Not sure what to say to that, he tore into the rest of the row, shoveling like a madman. Finally, he stopped.

  “He kidnapped you?” He rested his hand on the top of the shovel handle.

  “Yes.” She never paused.

  He shifted his feet and thrust a hand in his pocket. “From the orphan home?”

  “On my way there.”

  “Listen, I…” He wiped his brow. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  She shrugged and continued to plant. A thousand questions leaped to Rafe’s mind. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced off to the fields. “How old were you?”

  Her hands never paused. “Sixteen.”

  A heaviness settled in Rafe’s heart. His glance flicked to her, but his hands stayed busy. His thoughts turned to prayers and soon the row was completed. They finished the onions, radishes, and peppers in silence. Rafe’s back ached, but his heart even more.

  “You’re gonna need some help with hoeing and such,” Rafe commented, avoiding the subject he wanted to discuss, as he gathered the implements. “This garden will be more work than a whole field.” He cast his eyes over the finished result. It was huge and had to be to get enough food stored away for the both of them for a whole winter.

  “I can do it.”

  He took her in. There was no way he would open that can of worms by denying her claim. Best to stay silent. Besides, she probably could hoe the garden alone. He dipped his head to hide a smile. Dirt clung to her face, hands, and skirt. Sweat beaded across her brow. At just under five foot, the girl had pluck. He had to give her that.

  “I’ll take care of these.” He leaned forward to take the empty bushel baskets from her, and she withdrew from him. “Guess I better check that last field.”

  He turned, then paused at her quiet words.

  “Thanks for the help.”

  He nodded his head and flashed a smile. “Anytime.”

  * * *

  Jubilee’s brow knitted as he sauntered away. She supposed she’d been rude with her short-change answers. But he couldn’t know the thoughts darting through her brain. This whole trip thing had her tied in knots. Plus all his questions. Was it safe for him to know all the details of where she’d come from? Or how she came to be here? He could easily decide to take her back and she was beyond the age to return. The Orphan Society of Philadelphia only let girls stay until they turned eighteen. Jubilee shuddered as she thought of the night of her eighteenth birthday.

  She moved to the corner of the cabin and stood watching him as he went to the barn. He moved so easily for a big guy. Why did he take time to help me? The garden was to be her chore. The man was a mystery. She snorted. All men were mysteries.

  She shrugged to herself. What did it matter? There was a bigger problem here. What would await her at his home? And why in the world did he want her to go? Perhaps this was a trick to remove her from the farm. She expelled an aggravated breath. Why didn’t I ask some questions of my own? She caught herself circling a nervous finger in the seam of her dress and clenched her hands in frustration. Because I’m a little ’ole fraidy cat. That’s why.

  And, scarier still, she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  * * *

  With the wagon seat jostling her into her large companion, Jubilee berated herself for forgetting to give Rafe that new burgundy shirt to wear for church. Not that it mattered. He had on a well-made white one, tucked into black pants, which set off not only his wide shoulders, but also his tight waist and hips. Her face heated even as the thought entered her head.

  She patted the peach creation Miss Esther had bequeathed to her on her wedding day. Perhaps she’d be a bit overdressed. It certainly felt that way. Yet she couldn’t help but appreciate the wide smile Rafe had given her when she opened the cabin door.

  She’d done her best to lower her gaze to keep him from seeing her hot face while he lifted her to the wagon seat. What a goose she was. Scared to death of him, yet uplifted at his attention. He spoke and startled her from her thoughts.

  “You give any thought to taking that trip to see my family?”

  She gazed at the wildflowers along the path as they drove. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I think we should go.”

  “Good. I hoped you’d agree.”<
br />
  She turned her face to look at him. “What would you’ve done if I’d said no?” She felt his shrug before he spoke.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe I’d have gone alone eventually. I’d like to see everyone. Sarah will be thrilled.”

  Her curiosity piqued, she glanced his way. “Who’s Sarah?”

  “She’s my sister, my little sister. We’re pretty close.”

  She studied him from beneath her lashes. “How many people do you have in your family?”

  His fingers rubbed the leather of the reins, and it caught Jubilee’s eye. He had large, capable hands.

  “Well, there’s Mom and Pop, my oldest brother, Everett, and Forrest. I’ve got two older sisters, Anna and Phoebe, and there’s Loyal, who has a house in Ohio. Last, there’s Benjamin, me and Sarah. Everyone else lives close to Mom and Pop, plus one set of grandparents, my grandmother, three aunts and two uncles.”

  Jubilee fought the anxiety rising within her. That was an awful lot of names to remember. “It must be nice to have so many people in your family. Are any of your brothers and sisters married?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, everyone now except Sarah, and she’s only sixteen. But she’s a beauty. She won’t be single long.”

  Jubilee turned her head to stare at the landscape and digest all of this. What must it be like to have such a large family? She’d nothing to compare it with except the children she’d grown up with in the home, and they’d scattered here and there. The rest of the wagon ride was made in silence, Jubilee’s emotions going in circles about this family trip.

  The church looked beautiful among the maple trees, now fully leafed out. Irises bloomed around the foundation in a multitude of colors. The simple building sported a tall steeple above the two white entry doors. Pastor Barnett and his small wife stood at the top of the stairs, greeting people.

  After Rafe lifted her down in silence, Esther bustled to meet her with a smile and a hug. Jubilee wasn’t sure what to do. It was a new sensation for someone to receive her in such a welcoming manner. The pastor’s wife chattered away, escorting them to the sanctuary. Her husband descended the stairs to greet them with a handshake and a grin. Jubilee’s face grew warm at the parishioners’ stares as the Barnetts made a fuss over them. Finally, they entered and took a back seat behind a young, blond-haired couple with a baby.

  The congregation stood to sing after the pastor gave a short introduction. The song was unfamiliar to Jubilee, so she moved her lips to hide the fact that she didn’t know it. Next to her, Rafe’s low voice joined in. He knew the words and his tone was pleasant and deep. They sat and Jubilee looked around discreetly, having the advantage of sitting in the back.

  Her mind returned to her companion who shifted, bumping his leg against hers. She tried to focus on the pastor, who stepped to the front to start the sermon. He wasn’t a yeller, he was quiet. She had to strain to hear some of his words. He appeared to have a real burden for lost people and a deep conviction of reaching out to everyone in the area.

  Somewhere in the middle of the sermon, the baby in front of her began playing peek-eye. Jubilee tried not to pay attention to the little imp, but it was difficult. With blond hair and a flash of bright blue eyes, she was adorable. When at last they stood for the benediction, the baby, whose face now peered over her father’s tall shoulder, grinned openly. Jubilee did her best to keep her gaze toward the song leader. After the closing hymn, the couple in front of them turned to introduce themselves and apologized for their child’s antics.

  “Ve are most sorry. She not good on church.” The father grinned and the baby dove for her mother’s arms. “I am Ivan Larsson. Dis Elsa. And dis, dis Britta.”

  “Ve are neighbors.” Elsa smiled, her green eyes warm as she wrestled the bouncing child. “Ve move in few months back.”

  Rafe reached out and gave Ivan a firm handshake. Jubilee couldn’t help but smile at Elsa’s friendly face. Elsa was taller than her by a good six inches and slightly plump. Her dress was a plain blue, yet well-made and new.

  “You plant fields? My done. Is gud wetter for da planting.” Ivan, with his strong Swedish accent, started a conversation with Rafe while young Britta reached out, babbling for Jubilee.

  Startled, Jubilee looked at Elsa. But she offered the child to her with a laugh. “You hold? She like you.”

  Uncertain, Jubilee held her arms out for the chubby little girl who grabbed for her bonnet ties, knotted loosely to allow the hat to hang on her back. Britta clapped and threw her arms up in delight, grinning and showing her four white teeth. Jubilee was captivated and caught her breath at her antics. Britta squealed and held out her pint-sized hands, opening them and closing them towards the beams of light through the shutters.

  “Yah, likes the light, she does.” Elsa beckoned Jubilee to bring the sprite closer to the windows. The baby reached out to the window and let out a happy squeal. Jubilee’s smile widened.

  “She’s adorable.” Jubilee laughed. “How old is she?”

  “Britta be one next month.” Elsa nodded.

  “Oh.” Jubilee giggled as the tot lunged again to the shutters. She patted the baby’s back and crooned to her. The child turned to her and gave a big baby grin before becoming fascinated with Jubilee’s dress. She reached out to squeeze the ruffled sleeve caps.

  “Oh, no. No, no, Britta, pretty dress. No wrinkle.” Elsa fussed. “You want me take her?”

  “No, she’s fine.”

  “That dress—so beautiful.” Elsa’s eyes widened.

  Jubilee smiled. “The pastor’s wife gave it to me on my wedding day.”

  “Oh,” Elsa’s face brightened. “Miss Esther nice woman. You come visit? We have tea.”

  Jubilee glanced to Rafe. “Perhaps.”

  * * *

  Rafe scanned the trio at the window as he muddled through Ivan’s poor English. He caught his breath. Jubilee positively glowed as she held Ivan’s babe. She bounced the child on her hip and pressed the little girl’s hand against the slants of light, earning a happy squeal. He pulled his eyes away and blinked, remembering to nod to Ivan as he paused to search for the right word, but his gut tightened. She seemed so at ease and happy to be cradling that child. Her laughter floated to him.

  Rafe pulled at his collar. He made his getaway from Ivan and walked toward Jubilee, and saw her eyes go from joy to guarded watchfulness. She handed the baby back to her mother and waved at her new friend as she moved to Rafe’s side. After assisting her up onto the wagon seat, it was complete and utter silence all the way home.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Rafe and Jubilee attended church faithfully each Sunday. The pastor and his wife always welcomed them with a firm handshake and a hug. He enjoyed getting to know Ivan. As he talked to the big Swede, Rafe’s gaze usually drifted to Jubilee chatting with Elsa and reveling in Britta’s escapades. He tried to harden his heart to Jubilee’s joy when she held Britta. Children were a gift from God, Rafe knew, but there were no babies in Jubilee’s future. Their marriage was a business arrangement. Rafe clenched his jaw. This plan had been his idea hadn’t it? At least she isn’t homeless.

  Rafe wrote a letter to his folks to let them know the exact date of their visit. They’d stay two weeks with his parents while Ivan took care of the farm. Sure would be good to get back home and visit the family. But the thought of meeting up with Rosemary again set his teeth on edge.

  * * *

  The night before the trip, Jubilee lamented and fretted over every item she put in her newly purchased satchel. Rafe had packed the wagon the day before so they could pull out early in the morning.

  Nerves had Jubilee staring at the rafters when she should have been sleeping. Relief washed over her when the clock hands moved to four a.m. She threw the covers from her and began to get ready. Rafe had told her at dinner the night before that the stagecoach left out of Princeton at five a.m. They’d board Horse at Griffen’s Livery and Blacksmith Shop nearby.

  She dressed quickly in the darkness, her anx
iety growing when she stepped onto the porch to wait for Rafe. Streaks of pink appeared in the eastern sky, lighting the darkness through the heavy woods. The air was moist, and God’s creation seemed to hush at the wonder of daylight. She tried to concentrate on the beautiful morning, but her hand worked a circle in her skirt. Please let everything be all right, Lord.

  There wasn’t much conversation on the trip into town. Rafe made short business of boarding Horse, transferring the carpetbags and purchasing their tickets. Jubilee’s tummy tumbled as she viewed the aging Concord stagecoach. But it had new wheels and the leather looked sturdy. A boy with a ragged jacket ran to and fro to bring buckets of water to the four horses harnessed to the front.

  The men threw the luggage to the top and strapped it to the back as well. The driver was a grizzled tough nut, and his partner of the same sort, with wiry beards and sweat-marked hats.

  “Looks like we had plenty of time.” Rafe grinned.

  Jubilee nodded, then watched as the driver and his cohort disappeared into the stagecoach office.

  After another twenty minutes, they began to board. Jubilee, the only woman on the stage, boarded first with the help of her husband’s hand. She chose the third row of seats and sat against the far wall, facing forward. The interior was terribly tight once the others were in, and Rafe threw his arm around Jubilee to afford a little room for his large shoulders.

  She clenched her sweaty hands, wondering how she could sit so stiffly for five hours. The coach shuffled as the rest of the passengers climbed in. She turned her head toward the window to get a small puff of air. Jubilee leaned forward and saw the driver climb up the side to the top of the vehicle. Another jostle shook the coach as the shotgun partner mounted on the other. She heard the driver yell out a ‘Hi-O,’ and they were off.

  She caught her breath as everything swayed, but she soon settled, enjoying the ride. Leaning back, she relaxed against the seat and Rafe’s arm. The movement of the coach was pleasant but the seating arrangement was not. The passengers, like one being, lurched with each jolt of the coach.