Year of Jubilee

by Peggy Trotter

  Rafe set the beautiful white horse in motion and Jubilee, still in a daze, waved to the departing family. Complete silence filled the space between them for the first fifteen minutes, and Jubilee took the time to slow her breathing and her speeding pulse. Surely the man could hear her heart thumping. She bit her lip and kept her face averted, pretending an interest in the passing scenery. Rafe cleared his throat.

  “I seem to be constantly apologizing to you, Jubilee.” He gave a deep sigh. “I had no idea this whole thing was going to turn into a spectacle. I’m really sorry.”

  She pushed the new ring around her finger. “No, it’s I who should be sorry. Everyone has gone to a lot of trouble with this new dress, the carriage, and now this ring. I simply must give back this ring, Rafe.”

  He chuckled. “Are you kidding? You deserve a reward for putting on such a show.”

  Jubilee’s heart sank and moisture filled her eyes.

  “Besides, my mother would want an explanation, and that’s what I’m trying to avoid. You’re not angry, are you?”

  The emotion clogging her throat wasn’t anger. Thankful she didn’t have to lie, she replied. “No, I’m not angry.”

  “Listen, Jubilee. That won’t happen again. I promise.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. Not even if I want it to?

  The road opened and the river appeared to the left. “Well, we can do one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’ve got a basket full of food in this handsome carriage, so I propose,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, suggest, we just enjoy the evening and the meal. You in?”

  She nodded. What choice did she have? How silly to actually think he might’ve enjoyed the kiss as much as she. “Yes. I’ve never been on a picnic. It’ll be a treat.”

  Silence returned. Rafe slowed the carriage and turned the horse around in a wide spot in the road. “Well, in that case, we’ll do this trip up right. Let’s head to town and I’ll give you the deluxe tour. We have some unbelievably gorgeous houses in New Albany and several impressive businesses on the river front.”

  A tour was just what Jubilee received. They went down each street, and he described the houses and the families that lived in each. She breathed in awe as he took her past the architecturally splendid houses owned by wealthy families. She imagined Rafe driving home in the regal neighborhood with their beautiful carriage and fancy dress clothes. Her mouth parted in a smile. She’d be wearing some crazy fashionable hat. Her eyes took in every detail, her face bathed in wonder and enjoyment.

  “And now, milady, I shall direct our interests toward engaging our appetites, overlooking the stately Ohio River. We’re approaching the Johnson property, the self-same Johnsons who own this splendid carriage we currently drive. This area sports the loveliest location to view the impressive expanse of water.” Rafe grinned at his pitiful attempt at a British accent.

  Jubilee couldn’t help but giggle as he pulled the buggy to the side of the road. When she turned her gaze on the landscape, she gasped. He certainly hadn’t exaggerated. They were on a high, grassy bluff that offered an incredible view of the beautiful, shining river to the west as the sun set, changing the water into ripples of liquid mirrors. Jubilee swept her head to the east, taking in the multitude of steamers dotting the water’s surface from the distant crowded beachfront of New Albany and Louisville on the Kentucky side.

  “It’s breathtaking,” she whispered.

  Rafe smiled at her as he gathered the basket and the quilt from the back.

  “My accent might be lame, but the view isn’t. Come on.” He motioned toward the river with his head. “Let’s go to the edge of the knoll. Here, grab my arm. The grass is a bit uneven.”

  Jubilee slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and they walked about fifty feet until the bluff leveled out.

  “Here’s a good spot.” He placed the basket on the ground and began to unfold the quilt.

  Jubilee swallowed as she helped spread the beautiful double wedding-ring quilt from the church picnic. He held out his hand to assist her as she seated herself, his touch like embers on her skin. She directed her attention to the basket to cover her nervousness.

  “Good thing they packed this.” He raised the lantern. “I think we’ll need it.”

  She glanced up to where the stars began to blink. “Not yet. Let’s watch the sun set first.”

  “Good idea.”

  The fried chicken tasted delicious and the pound cake was sugary sweet. They hardly spoke as the sky grew dimmer. The steamboats below gave off tiny pinpoints of light on the darkened waters. A small strand of contentment rushed through her. Despite its uncomfortable beginning, the night had blossomed into quite a special rendezvous. Rafe’s crooked smile and exaggerated tales of the local folks had her smiling and laughing. She couldn’t imagine enjoying a real picnic any more. Only…she stopped her thoughts. Be happy with what you have.

  Rafe stretched his legs out on the blanket with the soft curve of the hill. “Well, you heard way more of my family than you ought to, and I know so little about you.”

  Jubilee breathed in the air, scented with a distant honeysuckle bush. “I’ve already told you, there isn’t much to tell.”

  “So you’ve no clue about your family?”

  She shook head, glad for the bright moonlight breaking through the clouds. The knoll took on an ethereal quality. A gentle breeze from the water cooled her brow. “No, nothing.”

  They both fixed their gaze on the river shimmering in the moonlight.

  “They ought to have a file on you at the orphan’s home.”

  Jubilee sat up a bit and turned to him. “You think so?”

  He nodded, leaned back on his hands, and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Sure. I bet you could send a letter and request any records they might have on you and your family. You’re of age now.”

  She turned her attention to the stars overhead, pinpoints in a moonlit sky. “I’m not sure, Rafe. I didn’t finish my term with Mrs. Galston. They may demand I return.” A shiver ran through her. Would he want her to go back?

  “Here, you must be cold.” He handed her his jacket and helped her slip it on her shoulders. “The rain we had last night has left a chill in the air.”

  She clutched the lapels to her neck.

  He leaned toward her on one arm. “It hardly seems your fault you were kidnapped. They surely wouldn’t hold that against you. I’ll write the letter if you think it’ll help.”

  “Really?” she breathed. “That might be better.”

  “Good. I’ll write an explanation as soon as we return to my parent’s house. Do you know the address?”

  Despite the serious topic, she gave a small giggle. “I lived there for practically sixteen years. I’d hope I could figure it out.”

  Rafe chuckled as he stood. “I guess we’d better head back. It’s late.

  Jubilee sighed. “I suppose so.”

  He helped her rise and then folded the blanket. “I had a good time, Jubilee.”

  She took the quilt from him and slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “Me, too.”

  “And now, milady, might I assist you to the handsome carriage and our patient steed?” He lapsed into his horrible accent.

  “Yes, dear sir, you may.” Jubilee’s laugh echoed over the knoll as he sent her sailing into her seat.

  It was terrible hard for Jubilee not to dream of a life where Rafe was more than a business partner as the stars twinkled over their moving carriage. Terrible hard.

  * * *

  Sunday came and went with church activities. The following week, Jubilee barely saw Rafe, as he spent most of his time with the men, threshing and bagging the wheat and clearing the new field. The work was hard, but made easier with the help of so many. She was sure Rafe would wish he had such aid when he returned to the chores on his own farm.

  Yet working without his family ribbing his newly married state might make up for the lack of help. She grinned. They did l
ove to tease. But her favorite time was late in the evening, when she and Rafe talked about anything and everything. He on the chaise, and she in the bed. Then they’d grow drowsy and wish one another goodnight.

  On Friday, she and Sarah visited the creek with several of the older nieces and nephews. Staying away from the cooling water proved too difficult. The refreshing liquid felt wonderful, but when they all began to fling mud, Jubilee ended up in the middle, laughing harder than the rest.

  Arriving back at the house, still very damp from the dip, she ran up the stairs to her room and found Rafe pulling clothes from his satchel. Her heart sped up for just a moment, remembering the last time she’d walked in on him. But he was fully dressed and gave her a tired grin as she entered.

  “Been at the creek, huh?” His eyes took in the wet dress and plastered hair.

  “Uh…yes.” Suddenly she felt very silly.

  One of his eyebrows went up as he walked toward her. He stopped and reached up.

  “I think you forgot this one.” He laughed as he pulled a wad of muddy moss from a lock.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Oh, no,” she exclaimed and hurried to the mirror. Sure enough, a glob of spattered mud hung on top of her head. She reached for the pitcher and poured a bowl full of water. Dunking her hand over and over, she rubbed at the dirty spot, then slowed and stopped. He’d taken a seat on the chaise lounge to watch her.

  “You need a hand?” he asked with a grin.

  Jubilee took a deep breath. It’d help if he’d just pour the water over her head. Still, she hesitated. “Okay.”

  She dipped toward the bowl, and he pressed against her to tip the pitcher over her hair. His fingers rubbed the spot a bit as the water kept running. Her locks filled the bowl, and her attention drifted to the warmth of his body. She had no choice but lean over and wait until he finished. At last he stopped pouring, and she felt a towel being handed to her from underneath.

  After dabbing her hair dry, she bent over, wrapped the towel turban-style around her head, and stood up. He sat on the chaise again. Patting the towel with nervousness, she sat on the bed.

  “Did you realize we leave tomorrow at eight?”

  Her mouth opened. Was it really time to go home already?

  “Oh, I’d…forgotten.” She glanced toward the window. Memories of his arms wrapped about her rushed in.

  “Time’s gone by fast.”

  Their gazes locked and held. Had the clock stopped? She tried desperately to read his expression. Finally, he rose.

  “I better get downstairs. Dinner will be ready soon.” He put his hands in his pockets as if reluctant to leave. “I…guess I’ll take this bowl of dirty water and ditch it.”

  Jubilee perched on the edge of the bed, her body stiff as he collected the basin and went to the door.

  “I’ll see ya at dinner.” He opened the door and paused, his eyes flicking over her.

  “All right. Thank you for your help,” she replied, her voice quiet.

  He nodded before the door clicked shut. They’d be going home. She took a deep breath and tried to be happy about the journey. But a sadness washed over her. She’d miss sharing a room with him. She, Jubilee, who’d been scared stiff of that man, would miss lying in bed next to him…well, across this small area. She gave an audible sigh. How she’d miss the closeness. Ugh. She’d miss him.

  * * *

  Jubilee cried when she hugged Rafe’s family for the last time on the loading platform at the dock. It’d been wonderful to experience a real loving family, up close and personal. Sarah, the last to hug her, smiled through her tears, and pressed a small frame into her hand.

  “It’s not very good. The verse isn’t one I’d normally use, but your name appeared in it and I couldn’t resist.”

  Jubilee glanced down and read through a blur of moisture.

  ‘It shall be a Jubilee unto you:

  And ye shall return every man unto his possession,

  And ye shall return every man unto his family.

  Leviticus 25:10b.’

  The letters were stitched in blue with a surrounding border of pink and red flowers, and Jubilee felt a swell of love for Rafe’s younger sister. She hugged her neck a little too long, thanking her in a choked voice.

  The family departed while she and Rafe moved to the loading platform. They were early, so he left her on a sunny bench while he went to purchase their tickets. She took one more look at Sarah’s sampler before sliding the frame into her satchel for safekeeping. Closing her misty eyes, she leaned into the seat and smiled. Happiness bloomed in her chest.

  A shadow fell across her, and she opened her eyes before putting up a hand to block the sun. She expected it to be Rafe, but it wasn’t.

  “Oh, my, Mrs. Tanner,” a scathing voice noted.

  Rosemary. Jubilee stood up. She had no desire to meet this woman sitting down.

  “Hello, Rosemary,” she greeted, her tone flat.

  “Actually, you may call me Mrs. Harper.” Her voice all but froze over. “We hardly know one another.”

  Jubilees nodded in acquiescence. Fine, the woman wanted to be a rat, let her.

  “I hope you’re aware Rafe only married you because I’d become unavailable. Perhaps that will explain if he happens to call out my name in his sleep. He is, obviously, still pining for me.”

  Now, what exactly did one say to that? Especially when Jubilee knew the real situation of their marriage and Rosemary did not.

  “You’re a very beautiful woman, Rosemary,” Jubilee kept her voice soft.

  She gave Jubilee a second perusal and then narrowed her eyes.

  “Exactly what is your game, little miss?” she all but hissed.

  Jubilee shook her head, wishing Rafe would return. “There’s no game.” Exhaustion washed over her, and Jubilee’s shoulders sagged. She just wanted this obtrusive woman to leave.

  Rosemary’s chin lifted suddenly and, as she looked over Jubilee’s shoulder, her face transformed into a charming smile. The change in her countenance appeared almost comical. Jubilee turned and saw Rafe approaching. Ah, that explained the metamorphosis.

  “Oh, Rafe, darling, I so wish you and your lovely wife could stay a bit longer. We barely had time to talk.” She gave a mock pout, and Jubilee resisted a strong desire to roll her eyes.

  Rafe stepped to Jubilee’s side and brought his arm around her shoulders. Jubilee stiffened. What was he doing?

  “Well, I’ve got to get the little wife home.” He paused and looked down into Jubilee’s face. “Right, darling? We have chores to do and things to take care of.”

  He brought up his other hand and brushed Jubilee’s cheek in a caress as he gazed at her. Jubilee’s eyes widened, and then she saw his wink. Still, knowing ’twas a masquerade did nothing to stop her heart from racing.

  Rafe looked at Rosemary now, and Jubilee struggled to throw herself into yet another role. The other woman’s face stiffened into a stern mask, her mouth pressed together in a disapproving line.

  “You understand, Rosemary. You and Dale are building a house. It takes a lot of time and planning. Jubilee and I are creating a farm and we’ve got to tend it.” He gave her a wide smile. “Nice seeing you again, though.”

  He picked up both satchels in his big hand and, with his arm still around Jubilee, he turned her toward the downward slope to the boarding gangplank. Jubilee stiffened her resolve not to turn and shoot her a smile of victory.

  Once they had safely boarded, Rafe led her to the railing facing the shore. The overcrowded conditions of the steamer caught Jubilee in a crunch of tall passengers pushing her from the rail. She struggled to stay behind him while being jostled by the exuberant group. Glancing up, she had a full view of Rafe’s expression and gasped.

  There was pain there. No, not pain—agony. Her chest ached in realization. The whole visit had been a terrible masquerade. The nightly talks, the picnic, the ring. What was the old saying? You can’t make a silk purse from a pig’s ear. He only
wanted…Rosemary.

  Jubilee stumbled through the throng until she reached the Salon wall and leaned against it. Behind her the people laughed, cried, and waved. Tears rushed to her eyes. What a fool I’ve been. So this was how life would be. A return to their sense of normal. He in the barn, and she in the cabin. Who would possibly want a pig’s ear? It was business. Pure business.

  She barely had time to collect herself when he returned, questions flying. Blinking and sputtering excuses, she begged him to escort her to her cabin. No need to fake a sickness. She was ill.

  Inside the small room, she dropped her satchel at the door and flung the small bunk down. She sat on the edge of the bed, clutched her rolling stomach, and began to sob. As the tears fell, she tried to understand why this realization hurt so much. He’d never indicated their status had changed, so why did this upset her so? She pulled her legs up and tumbled into a fetal position on the hard mattress.

  Because really, her reaction made no sense. She sniffed, breathing in spasmodic gasps. Perhaps she was tired. Or maybe she missed the family atmosphere. Wiping her face, she pictured Rafe across the room on a chaise lounge and fresh tears washed down her cheeks.

  This must be her fault, she realized, sucking in a shuddering breath. Rafe hadn’t changed. She had. Not sure what to do with that thought, she pulled the sheet to her chin.

  How would she make this journey home? She was too raw to join Rafe. As much as she enjoyed being on deck with the sun and wind caressing her skin, she needed to remain right here. Practicality reigned. After all, she was sick. The girl who’d never missed a day due to illness would lie in partial pretense to avoid seeing him. Perhaps by the time they reached Evansville she’d have recovered her wits.

  Tomorrow they’d arrive and ride that stagecoach all day long to reach Princeton. Jubilee squeezed her eyes closed at the thought of it. Then load up in the wagon and drive to the farm. Back to life as usual. Or, perhaps, back to life as unusual. She spun the sapphire ring on her finger and more tears seeped from her eyes.