Year of Jubilee

by Peggy Trotter

  A trembling took a hold of her as she wiped her hands on the napkin. “Oh, I can’t. You read it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, the fluttering in her stomach all but making her sick. With a grin, he tore the back flap of the envelope and slid out a single sheet of paper. His eyes flicked over the contents then settled on hers. An ominous sensation tumbled in her stomach.

  “Is it bad news?”

  He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should read the letter aloud.

  Dear Mrs. Tanner,

  ’Tis with regret that we decline to send the file for Miss Jubilee Charlotte Dupree. Miss Dupree, bound out to Mrs. Gertrude Galston for the purpose of household chores and sundry duties, failed to complete the set time of service. Therefore, the Board of the Orphan Society of Philadelphia decrees that Miss Dupree, and/or Mrs. Rafe Tanner, return and fulfill her indentureship, or forward financial restitution for release from this contract. Please reply in regard to Miss Dupree/Mrs. Tanner’s reimbursement of said obligation.

  Cordially,

  The Board of the Orphan Society,

  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.”

  Rafe raised his eyes to Jubilee. Her face had lost all color and her mouth hung open. He shot to his feet, sure she’d tumble from her bench, and strode to the other side of the table. Settling next to her, he realized she hadn’t moved one whit. When she spoke, he barely recognized the hoarse whisper.

  “I have to go back.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “You’re not going to Philadelphia,” Rafe said in a firm voice.

  Jubilee turned her face to his. “I need some air.”

  She jumped up and scurried to the back door, Rafe following her.

  “Listen to me. I’ll work the situation out. There’s no reason for you to return to be someone’s servant. Jubilee?”

  But she kept on walking faster past the outhouse. Great, my courtship plan was right on track. He rubbed his face with his hand and hiked up his britches. Déjà vu swept over him as she hurried through the field to the tree line.

  He parked his fists in his pockets and watched until she disappeared into the woods and fingered the other letter he’d received. All the anxiousness to share his mother’s news with Jubilee had evaporated.

  In his head, he’d visualized the whole after-dinner scene, with them both smiling and laughing over his mother’s stories of the family’s exploits. They would’ve retired to the swing and, there in the moonlight, he’d have moved closer, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He’d have leaned in and…nuts. He brought his thoughts to a stop.

  He stomped to the barn, frustration in each step. As much as he hated Everett’s intrusions in his life, he would’ve given anything to be able to walk to his house, plop in his chair, and seek his advice on this love thing. It’d been hard to watch the shore of his hometown drift away that day on the departing steamer, knowing his family would be out of reach for a very long time. And right now, he needed them.

  Once he reached his cot in the barn, he pulled out the letter and tossed it on the nearby crate where he kept a lantern and matches. He stared at the crumpled envelope for a few minutes. There had to be something he could do.

  His head came up. Hadn’t his mother mentioned Loyal and his wife taking a trip? Grabbing the letter, he scanned down to the phrase. How had he forgotten that Elizabeth’s family lived in Philadelphia?

  He grinned and pulled up a chair. There was more than one way to skin a cat. Rummaging through his few possessions, he quickly located a piece of plain white paper. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and began, ‘Dear Loyal.’

  * * *

  Rafe turned the bedframe upright to maneuver it through the barn door. Sticking his head out, his gaze glided to the northern tree line. It was nearing dusk, and Jubilee hadn’t yet returned. He sighed, then whispered a prayer for her before turning and hauling the frame to the door of the cabin.

  It was quite a task wrestling the awkward piece of furniture through the small cabin door, but he managed to squeeze it in. He hoped Jubilee liked it.

  Once he settled it into the corner, he tightened the ropes with the rope key and lost no time arranging the straw tick on top. He grabbed the quilt then froze. It was the double wedding-ring quilt they’d received from his home church.

  His eyes went to the back door. Surely she’d return anytime. He arranged the pillow and made the bed before striding to the door to exit.

  The trees were nothing but a dark shadow. He was done waiting. With a grunt, he stepped out the back door to head for the barn. Halfway to his destination, a big cat’s scream echoed across the fields from the north. Alarm raced up his spine. Cougar. He jogged the rest of the way. Setting his jaw, he saddled Horse in record time and tossed his shotgun in the scabbard, his mind in constant prayer.

  While Horse galloped over the field, Rafe pushed away the thought of the snake and chipmunk holes littering the ground. He looked behind him at the shadows of young corn plants flying off Horse’s hooves. All irrelevant. He had to get to Jubilee.

  At the tree line, Rafe leaned back, slowing their pace. Horse flung his head and snorted as they approached the woods. Rafe narrowed his eyes, his gaze taking in Horse’s twitching ears. Oh, glory. Lord, let her be safe.

  Rafe edged the shotgun from the scabbard and laid the weapon across his lap before urging the horse forward. Horse stamped and had to be nudged once more to encourage him to move. Rafe scanned the area, trying to get a lock on any movement, his pupils utilizing the last few remaining shafts of light.

  “Jubilee?” He called. “Jubilee?”

  Horse stopped and stutter-stepped backwards. He pulled the gun up and leveled it to his left. Rafe drew a lungful of air to test for the musky smell of the cougar’s territorial scent. The hairs on his neck stood up.

  A gasp caught him off guard, and Rafe lowered the gun barrel instantly. There stood a shadowed form.

  “Rafe?” a voice squeaked.

  He groaned and dropped his head. “Woman. You near scared me outa ten years of my life. I nearly shot you.”

  Rafe threw his boot over the back of his horse and dismounted. “What were you thinking, Jubilee? There’s a cougar out here somewhere and you’re traipsing around creation scaring the jeebers outa me.”

  He strode to her and, none to gently, pitched her into the saddle and remounted behind her. The horse jumped at Rafe’s heels before shuddering to a stop. The few trees that stood between them and the field were backlit by the orange of the final rays of sunset. In a tree some fifteen feet away, a huge cat-like figure glided to a stop on a thick branch and settled on its haunches, claws kneading the bark. The animal’s urine smell hit him in the face.

  “Oh, dear God, help us,” Jubilee whispered.

  Rafe didn’t dare breathe but leaned toward her ear. “Shhh…”

  With Jubilee sitting in front of him, he had no option but to shoot one-handed. Horse quivered beneath them as Rafe slid the gun from its resting place and, with all the stealth he could muster, brought the muzzle up and fired.

  Jubilee screamed, and the cat howled, bounding away into the woods. Rafe dug his heels into Horse’s flanks and they galloped out of the woods and across the field to the barn. When Horse drew to a stop, Rafe slid off the animal in one backward bound. He led them to safety in the darkness of the barn. Only then did he realize how fast his heart was pounding.

  Since he knew his way through the dark, he felt for the lantern and the matches on the post at the entrance. Once the lamp lit, he hung it back on the peg. He flicked his gaze over Jubilee, still astride Horse. She was visibly shaking, her hands clenched in the animal’s mane. He walked over and reached up to assist her. She flinched.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Jubilee.” He stepped away and scrubbed the hair at his nape “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

  She threw a leg over the horse’s neck and attempted to slide from the animal. Rafe stepped up, caught her, and brought her to the grou
nd with gentle hands.

  “Jubilee, look at me.”

  She refused to bring her head up. He tipped up her chin with his fingers. Her face was covered in tears, and he groaned, locking his gaze with hers. “I’m sorry. I was scared stiff. When I heard that cat, I thought the worst.”

  She closed her eyes. “I’m nothing but trouble.”

  Rafe tucked a stray dark lock behind her ear before wiping away the wetness on her cheeks with his thumbs. “Trouble, huh? Yeah, you’re lots of trouble.”

  Her eyes opened, and he took his leisure searching her face before moving his gaze down to her moist lips. His voice dropped to a velvet undertone. “Very interesting trouble.”

  “Rafe?”

  “Shhh…”

  Refusing to hesitate, he brought his mouth to hers and leaned into her softness. His arms came around and drew her against him, her hands spayed on his chest. With a low moan, he deepened the kiss, and she rose to meet his demand. He pulled his head away and buried his face in her neck, filling his senses with her scent, his lips caressing her neck, as he moved his hand to cradle her head. His other hand searched her back and settled on her tiny waist as desire flamed through his gut.

  Like a splash of cold water, she shoved him and, in confusion, he let his arms go slack. She fought out of his embrace and scurried to the door of the barn, breathing heavy, her eyes wild.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes darted around the barn as she leaned on the door. “I…can’t.”

  “Don’t leave, Jubilee. We need to talk.”

  She shook her head. “This is not talking.”

  He took a step closer. “Don’t go. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Her eyes flashed, and she lunged against the door and fled.

  * * *

  Jubilee stared at the rafters from her new bed, her eyes continuing to leak tears. He’d made a bed for her. He’d rescued her. He’d married her. And now he’d kissed her. Not a forced, supposed recreation of his imaginary proposal, but an ardent kiss that commanded more. Demanded more. She groaned.

  How had everything become so misaligned? Her thoughts darted around. First the whole Philadelphia muddle, and now Rafe’s kiss. He seemed determined to keep her from returning to Mrs. Galstons. And that kiss…. Her face burned as she relived the passionate incident over and over. His body pressed against hers, his lips on her skin.

  Her eyes flicked to the jar of daisies still on the table, highlighted by the moonlight through the window. Never had she experienced such delicious emotions tumbling over her as she’d just experienced with Rafe. To be there, breathing his breath, touching his lips, feeling the rasp of his face against her neck. The mutual ardor shook her with fevered intensity. But, along with that sweet desire had been a strange sense of distress.

  She threw the quilt from her body, impatient with herself, and swung her legs to the floor. After padding across the floor in her stockinged feet, she squinted at the marks she’d scratched into the wood. That seemed so long ago. Her eyes fixed on the sapphire ring that shot blue fire with a beam from the moon. She ambled through the room and stopped in front of the cold fireplace to peer up at Sarah’s sampler.

  “I’m so confused, Lord. I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t make me to return to Philadelphia. I want to stay here. I love Rafe and…”

  Her gasp resembled a gunshot in the still night. I love Rafe? Realization hit her like a plunge into an icy river. She did love Rafe. It was so obvious. How had she not realized this before? It must’ve happened weeks ago, she mused, remembering her misery on the ship at Rafe’s reaction to leaving Rosemary.

  Rosemary.

  She pressed her hands to her chest, knowing without fail she’d loved him even then. How miserable she’d been on the return trip, almost physically ill. Her stomach rocked. She was in love with a man who loved another married woman. In a daze, she wandered to the window that faced the barn and sought her own eyes in her reflection. Could he ever forget Rosemary? More moisture wet her chapped cheeks. What do I do now? Oh, God. What am I going to do?

  * * *

  Jubilee strained to keep her face emotionless. Before this point, the meal had passed with agonizing tension.

  “We need to talk.” He put the fork down by his now empty plate before folding his arms over his thick chest. “Things are going to change here, Jubilee. First of all, you’re not returning to Philadelphia. You will stay here. There’s no reason for you to traipse across the continent when we can resolve this from Indiana. I forbid it.”

  Jubilee narrowed her eyes and ire rose. Forbid?

  “Secondly, you’ll not venture to the woods alone,” he continued, his startling hazel eyes boring into hers. “It is too dangerous for a vulnerable woman like you. This cougar has marked the territory and is stalking prey within those boundaries. Therefore, you’ll remain close to the cabin at all times. And thirdly…”

  “Thirdly?” Her voice barely restrained her anger.

  “Yes, thirdly—”

  “No, Rafe,” she interrupted, stood, and began to collect the dirty dishes. “There is no thirdly.”

  Her nervousness at meeting him this morning evaporated in the heat of her fury. How dare he?

  He rose as well, and Jubilee winced. “Don’t do that, Jubilee. I’m not going to hurt you, and you know it. This is all for your own good.”

  She shook, her tone shrill. “I…I…can’t even think what to say to you.”

  He stepped toward her. “I’m trying to protect you. Now, thirdly…”

  “No.” Her voice hardened. “Get out.”

  Never had she been so abrupt. Hurt reflected in his green eyes, but he froze, and then backed away. His eyes became slits, his face stiff planes. He spun and tramped to the door, slung it open, and disappeared. Jubilee sucked in a gulp of air and leaned against the dry sink. A jumble of emotions threatened to unseat her breakfast.

  Was he now reduced to commanding her about? Did he resent her because she wasn’t Rosemary? In a daze she prepared the dishwater and slung slivers of soap on the floor. She’d been a fool to think he’d let go of Rosemary and embrace someone as plain as her.

  She gripped the tub and squeezed her eyes shut. Her chest throbbed as she fought to hold in unshed tears. She tossed the soap and knife down on the table and marched to the door. Once on the porch, she tarried, the smell of fresh wood melded with her vexation. Now what?

  Esther. The name whisked through her thoughts. Just the thing. She trotted toward the path to the parsonage. By the time she had reached the edge of town, her wrath had died considerably. Perhaps she should’ve told Rafe where she was going. She hunched her shoulders. It was too late now.

  After rounding the church house, Jubilee picked up her pace as she entered the Barnett’s yard. Her thoughts turned to the flowers Esther had plucked from this very spot the day of her wedding. Thrusting the memory away, she raised her hand to knock on the door.

  Inside she could hear movement, and Pastor Barnett soon appeared through the darkened door.

  “Howdy,” he said, pushing the door open. “Mighty fine to see you today. Where’s Rafe?”

  She cleared her throat while her gaze went beyond him.

  “He’s not with me.” She rubbed her chin. “I was wondering if I could speak with Miss Esther?”

  “Oh, sure, sure. She’s round back hanging clothes, I believe. You want me to holler for her?”

  Jubilee shook her head. “No. I’ll run around. Thank you, Pastor.”

  She shot off the porch like an arrow and soon caught sight of Miss Esther, bent over, wet linens flapping on the line. As she drew near, the older woman stood and applied a hand to her lower back.

  “Well, gracious. I didn’t know we had company.”

  Jubilee furrowed her brow. “I’m not really here as company.”

  “Oh?” Esther approached, her keen eye searching her face. Jubilee stared at the grass.

  “Where
’s that man of yours?”

  “Home.”

  Esther motioned for Jubilee to follow and, settling on a bench against the shed, the older woman sighed. She patted the spot beside her.

  “Why don’t ya take a load off?”

  Jubilee eased herself down onto the edge of the seat and sensed the woman peruse her.

  “Sure is powerful hot today.”

  Jubilee chewed her lip and caught her hand in its habit of worrying her skirt fabric. “Uh-huh.”

  “So, if we’re not visiting as proper company, what are we doing?”

  Jubilee let out a long breath. “I don’t know.”

  “Got yourself into a lover’s spat?” The woman chuckled and patted Jubilee’s knee.

  “Huh? Oh, no.” Jubilee stilled. “Well, maybe.”

  Esther nodded and looked out across the lawn at her white sheets dancing in the breeze.

  “It’s just…”

  The woman grinned and returned her gaze to Jubilee. “What’s he gone and done now?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Suddenly Jubilee didn’t know what to say. How did she spill her guts about the whole multifaceted mess? Could she ever make Miss Esther understand her situation when it was so bizarre Jubilee couldn’t comprehend it herself?

  “I’m unsure if Rafe loves me.” She sat back on the bench and leaned against the shed’s warm wood. Tears pricked.

  Esther chuckled. “Thorns and thistles, child. There’s certainly love in his eyes.”

  Jubilee straightened and peered at her. “What?”

  “Lots of folks try to define love. However, Jesus Christ was our true example. Think what he did. He gave his life for us. As much as husbands are a chore at times,” she laughed, “and just as difficult to understand, their job is to show the love Christ had for the church toward their wives.”

  Confusion washed across Jubilee’s face.

  Esther smiled. “Love ain’t feelings and fuzzy stuff, hon. That’s just some nice extras. It’s something you do. Does he do things for you? Take care of you? These are what you oughta think on.”

  Jubilee sighed. “I wish it were so simple.”