Year of Jubilee

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Year of Jubilee Page 7

by Peggy Trotter

There was no concern of losing one’s seat as the passengers melded as one flesh sandwich with the conveyance walls as bread. A breeze picked up as they left Princeton. As they increased in speed, dust came in with the air and Jubilee turned her eyes inward. The window would be a mixed blessing.

  “Well, this is certainly a perfect opportunity to get to know one another,” the man on the other side of Rafe commented.

  Jubilee leaned forward to catch sight of his red face and ample girth. The man was at least fifty, with a hat sitting jauntily on his wispy head. He had a gold chain that ran from his buttonhole to a pocket on his satin vest. His blue eyes were merry and friendly.

  “I’m Clyde Lane from Vincennes. I own Lane’s and Sons Mercantile.”

  A rumble sounded from Rafe’s chest. “Well, Mr. Lane, I’d shake your hand, but at the moment, I can’t move. I’m Rafe Tanner from Princeton.”

  The man chuckled back. “And the lovely lady?”

  Her husband cleared his throat. Yes, explain that one. However, he answered without a hitch.

  “This is my wife, Jubilee.”

  The man leaned forward and gave a smile showing a gold tooth. “Mighty fine to meet you folks. What business you in?”

  “Farming,” Rafe answered smoothly.

  “Ah.” The man let out a breath. “The salt of the earth kind of people. I always say, that’s the best type. Me, I’m on my way to Evansville to scout out new merchandise. Got some competition across the road now, and I figure to expand my wares.”

  Rafe nodded.

  “Yep. You make this trip often?” Mr. Lane asked.

  “Ah, no. Actually, I’m somewhat new to the area,” Rafe replied. “My folks live over toward Louisville.”

  The older man let out a chuckle. “Ya don’t say? I have a sister that lives in that neck of the woods. They own some fine horseflesh down Kentucky way. You ever been to Three Pines Horse Farm?”

  Rafe adjusted his arm along the back of the seat, and Jubilee fidgeted. “No, can’t say I have. Heard of the place, though. My folks are on the Indiana side. They own a farm northeast of New Albany.”

  “Can’t beat the Hoosier State. Bet you were born and raised there, huh? I hail from Virginia originally.”

  “Yes, I was. My grandparents came out of Maryland and settled in Indiana. My wife came from Pennsylvania,”

  Jubilee could feel the vibrations of Rafe’s voice against her shoulder and a warmth spread through her that he thought to mention her roots.

  “I see.” Mr. Lane caught Jubilee’s gaze. “From Penn’s wooded land, eh? My guess is you’re headed to Pennsylvania or New Albany. Am I right?”

  Rafe’s answer came out as a jerk as the coach lurched. “New Albany, this trip.”

  This trip? “Oh.” Jubilee’s hip ground against the wall.

  The merchant leaned forward again. “You all right, little lady?”

  “Yes.”

  Mr. Lane chuckled. “There’s a few bad spots in this road. Might be best if you climbed in your husband’s lap.”

  Jubilee’s face burned, and her gaze caught Rafe’s dimple. She quickly averted her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, though. We’ll soon be at the Log Inn Stop, and they’ll give us a fresh set of horses. We can get out and stretch our legs. ’Tis a mighty fine eatery, too.”

  Jubilee’s glance went to the seat in front of her, which only had a leather strap to support the passengers’ backs, and grimaced. The men in the first two seats faced one another with their knees intertwined. She glanced at Rafe’s legs and realized his knees were jammed against the wood of the middle seat.

  “Won’t be long they’ll lay that railroad track. They’re saying now the construction should be started by next year.” Mr. Lane slapped his leg. “I’m banking on those steam engines to haul up my merchandise to Vincennes, lickity split. I suspect traveling to Evansville will get much easier than this old Concord.”

  Rafe grunted his agreement.

  “You know anything about Vincennes?”

  “Can’t say I do,” Rafe answered.

  “Well, I can certainly pass the time telling you of our rich French settlement. We have a college, also. It’s a right fine city.”

  Thus began the lesson of the founding of Vincennes by Mr. Clyde Lane, well-to-do merchant. He remained interesting enough to help pass the time, but Jubilee was thankful when she caught sight of a double-gabled building. The coach stopped and the first and second row of passengers emptied out, groaning and stretching their legs.

  Mr. Lane hobbled to the exit, his head bent to avoid the roof. Rafe went next. Jubilee, her legs unsteady, stood and moved to the door. Rafe’s eyes swept her face and, instead of handing her down, reached both hands up, caught her around the waist, and lifted her to the ground. She hated to admit it, but she was grateful for his assistance since her legs seemed to have locked up. Most of the passengers made their way into the Log Inn and Rafe held his elbow out to assist Jubilee.

  “May I escort you, my lady?”

  With a swallow, she slid a trembling hand into the curve of his arm, thankful for once for his strength. Mr. Lane continued walking on Rafe’s other side.

  “Why, Mr. Henry Clay’s presidential campaign came through here in ’44, headed up by a…let me think, oh, what is his name? Levinson, Linton…Lincoln! Yep, that’s it. I believe his first name is Abraham. ’Course Polk won, so I guess he’s not that noteworthy. Lincoln gave a fine speech, though.”

  Jubilee took in the log interior as they wandered to a table. Seats quickly filled and Rafe invited Mr. Lane to join them, along with a couple other male passengers as well. Jubilee watched two woman scurry around to feed everyone as the men made small talk, Mr. Lane taking the lead. The special was fried chicken, and it wasn’t long before a huge basketful was plunked on their table. Mashed potatoes, beans, and cornbread finished out the meal. About an hour later, the driver and his partner rose.

  “Stagecoach leaves in fifteen minutes, folks.” They plopped their worn hats on their heads and walked to the door.

  The talk quieted as everyone rushed to finish their food. Outside, they were soon forming a line at the stagecoach. The generous meal made the inside of the Concord even tighter, if that were possible, and Mr. Lane’s incessant chatter lengthened the second leg of the journey. Jubilee’s body waxed sore and her ears weary by the time Evansville came into view.

  They ate dinner in a hotel dining salon near the Ohio River. Rafe guided Jubilee to her room. Thanks to her previous sleepless night, she practically dozed on her feet.

  “I’m right across the hall.” Rafe indicated the door directly opposite of hers. “Knock if you need something.”

  She nodded, too tired to respond. Clicking her door shut, she barely registered the small white room with only a bed, a nightstand, and a lamp. The last bit of sunlight crept through the thin curtains on the window. Not bothering with a light, she undressed and slipped beneath the cool sheets.

  * * *

  An earsplitting horn filled the air. Jubilee edged behind her large husband. She’d seen her fill of paddleboat packets on the Delaware River as she ran errands for Mrs. Galston in the Old City of Pittsburgh. But never had she contemplated boarding one. The thing was huge, and smoke poured from the two chimneys. The name, ‘Lil’ Bluebell,’ was painted in blue across the pilot’s house and in larger letters on the wall of the main deck. Rafe, tickets in hand, didn’t seem to have any qualms as he turned around with a crooked grin, eyes dancing in laughter.

  “It’s quite an invention, isn’t it?” Rafe’s dimple appeared and he gestured toward the ship.

  She nodded, in awe of her exciting, yet curious surroundings.

  “Are you ready to board the wild dragon?” His left eyebrow rose in challenge.

  He seems to be enjoying this. Does he just like paddleboats, or is he laughing at me? She looked toward the steamboat, eyeing its huge, dripping wheel and gave a shrug. He grinned, making heat fly up Jubilee’s neck. He stuck his elbo
w out toward her.

  “It’s quite the experience. You’ll love it.”

  Clutching his arm, she stepped toward the beast. Once on board, however, she agreed as she marveled at the sparkling water as it meandered around the bend. The front of the steamer was crowded with both humans and animals, but Rafe led her to an empty bench on the side of the boat.

  “We’ll sit here awhile and enjoy the view.”

  Everything fascinated her. The people. The river. The huge waterwheel.

  Rafe settled his big frame in the seat beside her. As more passengers loaded, folks nudged and stepped in front of her, blocking her line of sight. A scruffy man sat to her right, and Rafe put an arm around her shoulders. She inhaled a shuddering breath.

  “Perhaps we should find an empty spot along the rail.” He spoke softly in her ear.

  At her nod they stood, and he guided her to the starboard rail among the crush of people, breaking through to the side. He placed his hand on her waist and shifted her in front of him as he leaned against the wood. She caught her breath as the breeze brushed her face. The horn blew again, and Jubilee gasped and plugged her ears.

  “We’ll launch here in a minute. I think you’ll actually enjoy it.” Amusement lit his face, steadying her as the boat moved.

  Jubilee gave a start. He must consider her a dolt. She set her gaze determinedly toward the river, hiding her eyes from him.

  “I wasn’t making fun of you.” Rafe dipped his head to catch her eyes.

  When she didn’t turn, he spoke again. “I enjoy your curiosity.”

  “It’s not that I’ve never seen a boat. It’s…” She stopped and gave a small cry.

  The steamer pitched forward and, without thinking, she grabbed whatever was available—Rafe’s lapels. Much to her surprise, she couldn’t seem to let go as the ship inched forward. Jubilee’s lips parted, and her eyes swung to the moving landscape. The sound of falling water thundered behind them as the engine began to pick up a little speed.

  She attempted to speak, but the floating motion and the breeze across her cheek made it hard to breathe. The wonder of the ship’s departure caused her to flick her gaze to Rafe, who had a gentle grin on his face. One of his brows lifted as he surveyed her expression. Jubilee stared at him a moment before realizing her mouth was open. She snapped it shut and detached her hands from the fabric of his jacket.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Sorry,” Jubilee murmured.

  Rafe couldn’t take his eyes from her as she stroked the material until satisfied it was straightened. Looking up, she caught his gaze and blushed. She turned to the white rail. A bird flew close to their heads and drew Rafe’s attention. Birds of every kind were all around. Plovers ran swiftly across the sand bars. Flocks of ducks and geese paddled near shore as well.

  “Interesting, huh?” Rafe asked.

  She nodded.

  “The boat is loaded with supplies and going upstream. I doubt this sternwheeler will reach New Albany until morning.”

  She leaned over to watch the animals below on the main deck. Bales of hay and cotton lay alongside stacks of barrels. Grubby men milled about, smoking and chatting.

  “This is a beautiful packet, isn’t it?” He gestured toward the large Dining Salon behind them.

  “Yes, but…” She stopped.

  “What?” Rafe prodded.

  She turned her eyes to his. “They’re very dangerous, aren’t they?”

  A scuffle behind Rafe caused him to bump into Jubilee. A red-faced gentleman mumbled an apology.

  “Excuse me, Jubilee,” Rafe said. “Yes, I suppose they are. Boiler explosions are the main concern. But I’ve met the pilot, and he’s well known as a man with great expertise below the Falls of the Ohio.”

  “What’s the Falls of Ohio?”

  Rafe grinned. “It’s where the Ohio River drops near Louisville. Impossible to go up them in a steamer and only a few can navigate one down. We’ll be getting off before then.”

  She examined the large cabin to the right through the crowd. “Is the boiler on this deck?”

  Rafe shook his head. “Well, this is the promenade deck, or the boiler deck, but it’s actually below us.”

  Jubilee’s eyes widened. “So, if it does explode…”

  Rafe took a deep breath and looked to the river where a small boat passed. “I don’t reckon we’ll really know.”

  “Guess we’ll just trust the Lord.”

  Rafe’s head snapped down to look at her, but she’d turned back to the landscape. The woman never ceased to amaze him. He’d searched to formulate some comforting words to ease her mind, and out she came with such faith. Her statement shamed him that he hadn’t mentioned it first. God’s plan.

  The red-faced man nudged Jubilee, and Rafe gripped the rail as a barrier. “Yep, the Lord’s got it well in hand.”

  People soon lost interest in the river plodding by, and Rafe and Jubilee found an empty bench. A few hours later, in the huge gingerbread Salon, they dined on boiled fish in gold-rimmed plates set on white tablecloths. Dark gentlemen served, and Rafe noted Jubilee taking it all in with great interest. They explored the hurricane deck later in the afternoon, but the sun was so strong they returned to their bench below.

  Dinner came and went and soon dusk approached. Rafe kept an eye on the crowd, realizing riff-raff made their rounds on folks’ money pouches. They sat on the front side of the promenade deck, and he glanced at his partner. She was like a kid in a candy shop with wide eyes, taking in the activity. She never seemed to tire of the surroundings.

  “So,” Rafe stretched out his legs. “Are you enjoying the ride?

  It was a safe question.

  She turned shining eyes on him. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”

  He smiled, and she dropped hers gaze. “I don’t suppose you’ve done much traveling?”

  “No.”

  “Me either.” He crossed his arms. “But I did ride a packet up to Wheeling, Ohio back in ’48. My brother, Loyal, was married there, and now that’s where he and Elizabeth live.”

  “Is that your oldest brother?”

  Rafe laughed. “Definitely not. I have four brothers and three sisters.”

  She remained silent for a time. “What are their names again?”

  Rafe chuckled. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

  Her large, dark eyes blinked at him. “I suppose.”

  He cocked his head. “All right. But remember, you asked for it. The oldest is my brother Everett. He’s married to Addie, and they have six kids, Rachel, Rebecca, Joshua, Calvin, Orie, and Liza. Forrest and his wife, Mollie, have Elijah, Cora, Hiram, and baby Zekiel. My oldest sister, Anna, is married to Amos, and their children are Hugh, James, Samuel and Levi. All boys. Phoebe is married to Isaac, and they have two girls, Lucy and Emma. I already told you about Loyal and Elizabeth. He’s a doctor, and they have two kids, Lizzie and Garvin.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I’m almost finished. Benjamin is married to Caroline, and they have Evangeline and new baby Nellie. That just leaves Sarah and me. ’Course, there’s Ma and Pa, my grandpa and grandma, Henry and Blanche Tanner, and ma’s ma, Grandma Louisa Priddle, as well.”

  “That’s a large family.”

  “Yep, and all but Loyal live within a few acres of each other.” He straightened and gentled his tone. “What about you? How did you end up at the orphan’s home?”

  * * *

  Anxiety welled in Jubilee’s chest. Could it be safe to tell him such things? For all she knew, he was fishing for information. She pulled her gaze from him, wishing she understood his intentions. He seemed kind, and she was having a grand time on this steamer, but…

  A distant horn sounded ahead of them. People moved to the front of the boat and the hubbub distracted Jubilee and Rafe from their conversation. A few men broke away, yelling, and jogged back to the stairway.

  Jubilee stood. “What did he say?”

  Rafe shook his head as he craned his neck to see over the crowd.
“Something about a boat that’s hit a snag. Come on, let’s find out.”

  He gripped her arm and escorted her to the starboard rail, near the front. Sure enough, as they rounded the bend on the right, a small side-wheeler leaned precariously, some thirty feet from the south bank. On the stranded boat’s main deck, a group of people waved and shouted toward the Lil Bluebell. The steam engines growled as the big paddle stopped and reversed.

  “Looks like we’re going to pick them up.” Rafe glanced back at the stern.

  “How will they do that?”

  “Not sure. But they’re in for a swim if we don’t.”

  The captain was as skilled as Rafe claimed, and they butted against the smaller craft, a day excursion steamer with twin side wheels fully covered from view. The name, ‘Rosemary Marie,’ was emblazoned across the small pilot’s house. Next to her, Rafe groaned.

  Jubilee searched his pale face. “Are you sick?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “No.”

  Jubilee pulled her eyes from him and watched the group cross over the makeshift gangplank to the main deck of the Lil Bluebell. Seven people in all boarded. An older pair, dressed in sleek, impeccable clothing, a captain with a crew of two, and a younger couple. The woman caught Jubilee’s eye.

  The flounces on the woman’s sky blue dress glittered in the sunlight. The circumference of the bottom of the skirt made it difficult for the elegant young man to escort her across the beam to safety. The woman’s erect carriage had the boisterous group on the main deck parting in awe. As she stepped over the chasm, Jubilee was struck by her beauty. The dirty brutes down below stumbled toward her to assist her aboard.

  She swept the boat with a haughty gaze, settling on Rafe with a slight lift of her chin. The smile she gave the grungy mule skinner close by was dazzling, and she leaned forward to speak to the man. He pointed off to the stairway that led to the promenade deck where Jubilee and Rafe stood.

  The crowd gasped and Jubilee’s eyes followed the crowds to the handsome, white-sided wheeler as the entire boat slipped below the surface. Only part of the pilothouse remained above water. Her glance returned to the newest passengers below but found they’d all disappeared.

 

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