Year of Jubilee

by Peggy Trotter

  * * *

  Grandma Lou had shown improvement by the time the Tanners arrived home in the early evening, but was abed and asleep. Sarah took great delight in helping Jubilee show Jennie the beautiful gifts from the folks of the congregation. Jubilee’s eyes still misted over as they brought out the lovely navy and yellow quilt to show everyone. Rafe’s mother vowed she hadn’t a clue they’d planned the beautiful gift, and remarked over the tiny stitches holding the pieces together.

  After they all chatted a bit, Jubilee yawned. She finally excused herself and went to her room to dress for bed before Rafe entered. It’d taken what seemed like an eon to fall asleep last night, with her nerves on edge. Tonight would surely be a repeat. Her eyes flicked to the small chaise lounge. Poor Rafe. He hadn’t even complained over what had surely been an uncomfortable night.

  Footsteps padded up the stairs, and she all but leaped into her bed to pull up the quilt. A gentle knock sounded at the door, and Jubilee gave a hushed ‘okay’ for him to enter. He entered without a sound, and Jubilee covered her head when his shadow moved toward the chaise.

  The sounds of clothing being removed indicated his state of undress. Her face heated as she remembered the scene of his naked torso with startling clarity. Had that only been this morning? Finally, the chaise groaned, taking on Rafe’s weight, and he moved around to get comfortable. She’d laid the extra pillow on the chaise for him earlier and heard him punch it a couple of times to adjust it against his back. Finally he seemed settled.

  “Busy day, huh?” his voice soothed in a low murmur.

  “Yes.” Her answer came like a breath, thrilled he’d spoken.

  “I guess you liked the quilt.”

  She nodded into the night, and then realized he couldn’t discern her silent answer in the dark.

  “Oh, yes. The most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.” She let a silence settle between them. So many questions about Rosemary swarmed in her head. Well, any subject would do, except her interruption this morning. “I supposed you enjoyed being back at your home church?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you wish you could come back?”

  He took a long breath as if he might be thinking. Several minutes ticked by before he spoke. Jubilee grew tense, fearful of what he’d say.

  “No,” he said. “I miss my family, and yes, my church. But I enjoy the quietness of our place. The ruggedness.”

  Jubilee gave a small smile. Our place.

  He continued. “It’s more like Rafe Tanner’s place, not just Will Tanner’s place. A farm where I make the decisions and take the consequences of those choices.”

  “Was it…difficult to see Rosemary?” There, it was out. She closed her eyes to harden herself as he answered.

  “Actually, not really. It was much easier than I ever would’ve thought. I guess I have you to thank for that.”

  She caught her breath. “What do you mean?’

  He stirred a bit. “Well, if I’d have come back alone, people would still be thinking I hadn’t gotten over her. But I brought you, so everyone assumed I’d moved on and that helped a lot.”

  A trifle disappointed with his answer, she swallowed. “She is very beautiful.” Now why did I go and say that?

  “Uh huh. Yeah, but I realize maybe that was what it was all about.”

  Jubilee blinked and her eyebrows drew together. “Huh?’

  “Well, when she moved to this area, I’d turned fourteen. All of us boys fawned over her. She’d come from the east and had high-faulting manners and ways, and she sure led a boy on. We yammered around about having a girl like her. Dale and I spent many a day fishing and discussing our interest in Rosemary. I think anyone of us could’ve had her because it became a matter of who was willing to work the hardest for her affections.”

  Something akin to hope flared inside of her. She smiled again at the ceiling.

  “I’d just turned a blind eye to her faults. I know it makes me sound a bit shallow that I could be so gone on a woman and six months later be counting my lucky stars I didn’t marry her, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  It was quiet for a spell and Jubilee listened to his breathing even out into sleep. She’d never talked with a man the way she’d spoken with Rafe the last two nights. It seemed like they were almost a…real couple. A man and wife who shared their thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jubilee woke up in the middle of the night bathed in sweat. Her hair had escaped its braid and was crammed around her neck. Oh, I’m burning up. The quilt was wrapped about her and, with the twisted gown, she felt like she’d fallen into a pot of hot water.

  She threw the blanket off, pulled the damp hair from her neck, and waited to cool down. Her sleep-deprived brain realized she’d forgotten to open the window before getting into bed, and realized Rafe hadn’t either.

  She sat up and slid her feet to the floor. Tiptoeing to the glass, she hoped to slide the sash up and let a puff of cool air waft across her face. She glanced at Rafe. He hadn’t moved. The moonlight danced through the curtains as she swiped them away to grip the wooden frame and give a gentle tug. The pane didn’t budge. Setting her tongue in the corner of her mouth, she squeezed the wooden frame and shoved with more force. Nothing.

  Now how could this be happening? She’d easily flung this silly window open the night before. Shaking her head, she heaved again. Suddenly two strong arms reached on either side of her and slid the sash up without a bit of struggle. She took a shaky breath as she turned around, his arms still resting on the sill behind her. She looked up, up, even farther up, in her bare feet, and in the silvery moonlight, there stood a sleepy-faced Rafe with a gentle smile.

  “Sorry, I was having trouble,” she whispered.

  “I can see that.” His lazy grin grew.

  He reached and drew out a lock of shiny, dark hair, spiraled from the braid, reaching to her waist.

  “Your hair is long.” His voice sounded husky. “I’ve never seen it down.”

  She could hardly breathe.

  “I haven’t ever cut it,” she murmured.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said.

  He brought his hand out to the lock’s full length and let it slip between his fingers.

  They stood for a long moment, blinking at one another before he spoke again. “I guess we oughta get back to the business of sleeping.”

  “Uh, huh.” She could barely speak.

  He motioned with his left hand, indicating she should go first. Jubilee was very conscious of the thin nightgown which, before Rafe’s help, had seemed so heavy. She climbed into the bed, thankful for the cooling breeze blowing into the room. Rafe settled on the chaise and all became quiet.

  “Goodnight, Jubilee.”

  “Goodnight.”

  As the crickets chirruped outside, Jubilee listened as Rafe’s breathing slowed and evened, indicating he’d drifted off to sleep. Her head turned to take in his long form stretched across the chaise. Her brain lulled over the term, ‘business.’ She was beginning to not like that word.

  The next day, Jubilee saw Rafe occasionally as he helped his father and brothers harvest the wheat. She enjoyed getting better acquainted with all of Rafe’s nieces and nephews, but enjoyed cradling the babies in her arms most of all. Jubilee helped cook, garden, clean and feed children, then laughed with the rest of the ladies as they sewed and drank cold tea on the porch. What an enjoyable time experiencing a real family.

  * * *

  That night Rafe stretched out on the chaise. The odd piece of furniture wasn’t impossible to sleep on, but he did wish it extended a couple of feet longer. His knees ached from curling his legs.

  Jubilee stirred in her bed and thoughts of her opening the window last night flitted across his mind. The moonlight had spun her dark locks to crystal. Hard on his self-control not to bury his hands in the heaviness of her hair. He could’ve easily drowned in her dark beauty and the deepness of her eyes. But he wouldn’t. He ha
d to remember how fragile she was. Not to mention they were just ‘partners.’

  He inhaled and changed the path of his thoughts. However, images of Jubilee and Colvin honed in.

  “Jubilee?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Are you sleeping?” He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. What a stupid question.

  “No.” She gave a soft laugh.

  He smiled in the darkness, and sobered. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  Silence.

  “I suppose.”

  “Was it…bad with Colvin?”

  She didn’t answer, but he heard her take a sharp breath.

  “Listen, forget I asked.”

  “No. It’s okay.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked.” He adjusted the sheet over his body and stretched his neck. Did you think she’d blurt out her most intimate thoughts?

  “I want to tell you.”

  He stilled.

  “Maybe I should start at the beginning.”

  Rafe didn’t dare move.

  “In Pittsburg, the orphanage bound me out at age 12, to an elderly widow woman. Her name was Gertrude Galston. She’s known as Granite Galston. She’s a hard lady, but she treated me all right. Her house is in the Old City, a huge mansion, and she had a full-time cook and butler. I helped whenever and wherever they needed me. I ran errands a lot and worked in the garden most of the summer.”

  Jubilee paused here, whether to organize her thoughts or control her emotions, Rafe wasn’t sure.

  “Your Uncle Hilmer, Mr. Stallings, frequented the neighborhood. Mrs. Perkins, the cook, always said he had his eye out for a rich widow.” She gave a small laugh. “He even tried to melt Mrs. Galston’s heart as well, so he’d show up and do different handyman jobs. We had a bad storm in April of ’48, which tore off some of the shakes on the roof, and Mrs. Galston hired Mr. Stallings to patch it. When he arrived, he had Colvin with him, and they began to repair the roof.”

  Jubilee stopped and the pause grew longer. The breeze stirred the curtains.

  “He…always seemed to be about, Colvin, that is. I’d be in the garden and I’d look up, and he’d be—staring at me.” She let out an unsteady breath. “Once, when I was in the dark cellar, counting the produce jars, I finished and turned to leave, and there he was. He scared me witless. When I asked him what he wanted, he offered to help.”

  Rafe’s muscles tensed as she spoke again.

  “They worked for two weeks. Finally, they completed the job. I was relieved, I must say, for there were many other incidents. A couple of days later, Mrs. Galston asked me to put up some new drapes in her living room. Mrs. Perkins and I pressed them, and I climbed the ladder to hang them. Mrs. Galston was in one of her difficult moods and demanded we remove them several times and press the fabric over and over.” She sighed. “By the time we finished, it was well after dark, and I usually walked to the orphan home at the end of the day.”

  Jubilee worried the sheets, and Rafe fixed his eyes on the far wall to tamp down his uneasiness.

  “Mrs. Perkins told me I should have Ramsey, the butler, give me a ride in the carriage. But Mrs. Galston pitched such a fit about not finishing the dining room drapes, I slipped out the back and headed to Eighteenth Street on my own.”

  Here Jubilee pushed herself to a sitting position, and Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes from her shadowed form, head bent, hands wringing in her lap.

  “I walked along a particularly dark section of street.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. A long pause stretched out. “I remember being afraid and looking all around. I think I could actually feel something wasn’t right. As I passed some bushes on the left someone popped out of the dark alley and grabbed me.”

  Rafe threw his legs to the floor as Jubilee’s hand fluttered to her mouth.

  “Was it Colvin?” Rafe throat constricted and anger rose in his gut.

  She nodded and her voice trembled when she spoke again. “Only I didn’t realize it then. He covered my mouth with his hand and dragged me to a carriage house some distance from the main road. He wrestled me to the ground and poured a vile-tasting liquid down my throat. That was the last I knew for the next twenty-four hours.”

  Rafe took a deep breath but kept his eyes on Jubilee.

  “When I awoke, he’d tied me up and slung me face down over a horse. There was a gag in my mouth and a blanket over my body.” A sob broke from her and Rafe moved to stand beside the bed. “He…he stopped for the night, removed me from the horse, tossed me to the ground and tied my hands above my head to a tree. Then he started to drink.”

  She put her hands to her mouth and took a few shuddering breaths. Even in the moonlight, Rafe could make out the sparkle of tears running from her eyes.

  “He told me all kinds of wild stuff, like,” her voice broke, “how he’d show those rich biddies. He’d be respectable, and they’d wish they hadn’t trifled with him. Then he straddled me and screamed I was his now…” She sobbed now. “I remember kicking and kicking, but nothing helped.”

  Rafe’s clenched his jaw, and his heart wrenched as she covered her face with her hands. He sat on the bed and gently gathered her in his arms. The rest came in a broken whisper.

  “The next morning he put a gun to my head and told me I would marry him. He’d won a farm in Indiana in a card game. He wanted to go there, somewhere new, and make folks respect him.”

  Rafe tamped down the burning rage mounting inside him and tightened his arms around her, praying in a low voice while her small body trembled. She burrowed her face into his neck and he stroked her back.

  “Everything’s all right, now. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he murmured.

  “I didn’t have anywhere to go. I had no idea where we were.” She continued to sob. “What else could I do?”

  Rafe smoothed the flyaway hair that had escaped her long braid. His voice grew tight with emotion. “You had no choice. He was just plain evil.”

  Her sobs eased, and she pulled away from him. Rafe reached to grab a handkerchief from the nightstand and pressed it into her hand.

  “Life with him wasn’t always horrible.” She sniffed. “Only when he drank. We settled at the farm, and he actually worked for a couple of months. There was so much to do. He left for long periods of time and came home with perfume all over him. And then he began to hit me.”

  Rafe massaged her shoulders and rubbed his hands down her arms. Dear God, help me not to hate Colvin. “No one should treat a woman like that, Jubilee. He was wrong, you know that, right?”

  She nodded. Then she shrugged one shoulder, fingering the handkerchief. “I didn’t know how to fix things or what to do.”

  Rafe sucked in a deep breath and gave a silent prayer of thankfulness. “I think God took care of the situation for you.”

  Her head came up. “You think so?”

  “I know so. God is with us, even in painful times. And he delivers us because he loves us, Jubilee.”

  “I guess it’s hard to believe God loves me. I have nothing.”

  Rafe stood, but reached over to stroke her face. “You’ve got me.”

  * * *

  Next morning, at breakfast, Jubilee sensed Rafe’s gaze on her. She tried to keep her attention fixed on her plate, yet her traitorous eyes kept dashing to his. Never had she told anyone such intimate information about herself. She’d had special friends at the home, like Ellen. They’d shared childish hopes and dreams with one another at night. Yet they’d been childhood friends. This was…what was it?

  “Everything all right this morning, Rafe?” Everett grinned and glanced at Addie, his wife.

  His oldest brother and his family had joined them for breakfast. Jubilee was thankful for six children who chattered continually around the table. Their prattle more than made up for her quietness.

  Rafe paused and looked his sibling over. “Yes. Why?”

  Everett raised his brows to Addie across from him. “No reason. Just wondering.”

  “Oh,
leave him alone, Everett.” Jennie waved as she passed the butter to her husband. “He’s in love, for Pete’s sake.”

  Jubilee’s face burned, and she focused on the bacon in her plate.

  “I was surely not that bad.” Everett chuckled.

  “Oh, goose and gander. You were mooning after Addie for months. I was never so glad as when you finally proposed.” Jennie laughed.

  “Leave the boy alone.” Will laughed. “I worked him so hard yesterday he barely got to see her. He’s gotta make up for lost time.”

  Rafe cleared his throat. “Speaking of the wheat, shouldn’t we be off? The grain doesn’t harvest itself.”

  Everyone laughed except Rafe and Jubilee. The men rose and collected their hats from the pegs by the door. Jubilee caught Rafe pulling a face at her and grinning before he disappeared outside.

  * * *

  Rafe groaned. Why did I agree to run to town with Everett? A rawness still gnawed at his belly with thoughts of the abuse Jubilee had suffered at the hands of his cousin. Now Everett was doing his best to be irritating. And succeeding. Rafe pinched the soft leather reins between his fingers as Everett continued to talk.

  “Just saying you oughta make some time to be with Jubilee, that’s all. Take her on a buggy ride through town. Borrow the Johnson’s little Phaeton carriage. Maybe have a picnic by the river.” Everett spat over the side of the wagon. “Women like that stuff.”

  Rafe scratched the side of his head. “We’re fine.”

  “Well, you two don’t act like you are. You carry on like you’d like to gobble each other up. Which probably means you’ve been spending too much time in the fields. Addie gets all teary-eyed when I work too much.” Everett stretched out his legs and set his heels on the edge of the wagon’s footrest. “And why don’t you get her a ring? Tanners give their women rings. And another thing, you shoulda told us about the wedding. Mom cried for two days when she got your letter. Made things downright unpleasant around here, that’s for sure.”