Year of Jubilee

by Peggy Trotter

  “Perhaps it is.”

  Jubilee blinked. “What can I do to show love to him?”

  “Same thing. A little hand holding and such don’t hurt none either.”

  Jubilee shook her hands in frustration. “You don’t understand, Miss Esther.”

  The older woman sat back and swept her gaze across the blue sky. “I understand you married a near stranger and getting to know each other will take time.”

  Jubilee gasped. She was clever.

  Esther turned her weathered blue eyes on her with boldness. “Do you love him?” A chuckle stopped Jubilee’s reply. “You don’t have to say the words. I see the answer on your face. Take some advice from an old lady who’s been married near on forever. The Bible says to make friends you have to be friendly. I expect the same works for love.”

  “You have to be friendly to get love?” Bewildered, she jerked her head, her eyes wide.

  Soft laughter flowed from Esther, and a lock of her white hair tossed in the breeze. “Oh, child. You’re a delight. I reckon being friendly won’t hurt. But showing love may lead to love.”

  She swallowed. “Doing what they want is love, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Jubilee.”

  Jubilee shot up. “I need to go.”

  Esther rose and embraced Jubilee. “Now you walk up to your man, that fine man, and show him all the love in your heart.”

  Jubilee gave a slow grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The trip home went much slower. Jubilee noticed each part of the landscape while contemplating Esther’s words. She caressed the cerulean bachelors’ buttons growing along the path and swept her chin high to take in the expanse of blue sky emulating the awesome glory of God. Eternal, infinite, indescribable.

  Why had she gotten so angry with Rafe? Such a complete foreign emotion to Jubilee. She’d learned very young that life went much smoother with simple acceptance. Humble obedience. Even with Colvin, she’d never experienced anger. Fear, yes, but never anger.

  She strolled toward a pink wild-rose bush and paused to pluck a petal. As she marveled at the exquisite softness in a seemingly insignificant piece of creation, she also pondered something Rafe had said in New Albany. Perhaps the Lord had protected her from the very beginning.

  The red maple branches beckoned to her from above and she reached to pick one, fingering the delicate leathery leaf. Life hadn’t been easy. Without a family, working hard each day to satisfy the Society’s demands had been her lot. Another had been church attendance. She’d awakened to the call of God at the young age of eleven.

  She stopped. The memory rushed upon her. Pastor Reeker had left the church a few months earlier. She, in all her childishness, had assumed pastors were comparable to the rigid reverend, old, bald and fat, screaming about God’s punishments and judgments.

  Then like a dream, Pastor Sheffield had arrived, fresh, eager, kind and, to young Jubilee’s mind, extremely handsome. The drudgery of church attendance had flown. He’d talked of God’s love, forgiveness, and renewal. With a glad heart, she’d gone forward to express a desire to be part of such a powerful legacy.

  Though what stuck in her mind was not God’s great mercy, but Pastor Sheffield’s sparkling eyes, earnest upon her confession. She and her best friend, Ellen, had whispered dreamily about the encounter for months afterward. In time Jubilee had outgrown her childhood crush and, in the process, she’d absorbed the reality of what God had done for her.

  There’d been many times Jubilee wished she could have questioned the good pastor. He’d talked so much about serving God and living the abundant life, yet she wondered how to accomplish that. Then Colvin happened and everything went awry.

  Or had it? She caught her breath. Surely she’d certainly not wish to experience those days again. She’d never once thought those trying times would make her stronger, yet she knew they had. Through her survival, she’d gained an extra dimension to her character, an extra appreciation of Christ’s suffering. And with Rafe’s kindness, a healing confidence grew within her.

  I ordered him out of the cabin. A cringe rippled through her. It’d been his tone, his commands. Yet everything he said made sense. She didn’t want to return to Philadelphia, although how she could avoid this was beyond her. The sighting of the cougar had scared the wits out of her, so avoiding the woods seemed wise. And thirdly…oh, my, she hadn’t waited to hear him out. She let out a frustrated breath, threw the leaf down, and plopped on the soft grass.

  The tall weeds around her put her in seclusion from the world, and only the sky peeped in. What did she really want? Truly? It was time to be a mature person and make a goal of some kind. She’d been swept along by circumstance forever, and now she needed to make a decision.

  She leaned back until the grass pillowed her head. She tapped her lip, contemplating the sky. If she could have anything—anything at all—what would it be?

  Rafe.

  The tapping stopped. Yes, definitely Rafe. But…another thought collided. Did Rafe even want her? As an orphaned widow, she had little to offer. Yet Esther had claimed he harbored love for her. Was this possible?

  Wait. She brushed away an insect. Wasn’t this about doing what God wanted? Jubilee covered her eyes with her hands and sat up. God, I can’t solve this. Esther says I should look to you to know what to do. I need help, Lord. I don’t know which way to turn.

  The heat became oppressive in her little weed burrow, so she stood to catch a breeze and meandered toward the shade of the maple. The fact remained, she loved Rafe. She loved him. Simple as that. And she was his wife.

  She took a deep breath. Time for her to apologize. She shouldn’t have ordered him out of his cabin, and she should’ve honored his requests, well…commands. So she’d take Esther’s advice and be…friendly.

  The cabin was quiet when she returned. Rafe must be in the fields. She sighed. As much as she wanted this settled right now, she had work to do. There were plump green beans waiting in the garden to be picked, snapped and canned. Four buckets of blackberries and raspberries rested on the table, needing to be washed and separated for making jelly with Elsa tomorrow. The bread needed to be baked, and this morning’s milk needed to be churned into butter. Resolution would have to wait until this evening.

  * * *

  Rafe chucked the hoe harder than necessary to uproot the weed from the corn row. It was backbreaking work, but his mind was a spin. Had he actually come at Jubilee like some wild, lowing bull demanding this and that? He grunted. Yes, he most certainly had. Again, not a great tactic to entice the woman’s affections.

  He had no business commanding her in such a way. The woman was free to return to Philadelphia if she so desired, as much as the idea raised his hackles to admit it. Of course, the cougar spawned a whole other problem. He hoped, at least, she’d heed him on that point, cutting a glance at the shotgun resting in the row behind him.

  He paused and jerked his head to the left to work out a kink in his neck. Okay. Back to plan one. He hadn’t buried himself—yet. He’d apologize. Then hope the woman would listen to his third request.

  * * *

  Later in the evening, Rafe and Jubilee finished supper as always. Neither spoke. The atmosphere in the cabin was oppressive. As if they sat within a huge animal trap waiting for the tripwire to snap, the metal claws shut at any moment. This apologizing thing was more difficult than she could’ve imagined.

  He cleared his throat. “Let’s sit in the swing.”

  Finally—words. Jubilee’s tension eased a bit. “Okay.”

  She took a deep breath as they both rose, and Rafe held the door for her. Sweeping the crumbs from her dress, she tried to amble past him with a false calm.

  Settling into the seat, she mused how much more comfortable it was to talk as they worked side by side, or when the lights had been off at his parents’ house. Conversing seemed plain awkward just sitting. Her body tensed as he lowered himself next to her.

  “The garden looks good,” he commented, crossing
his arms across his chest.

  “Thanks,” she replied, fearing the small talk made it glaringly obvious they sat together like a real married couple.

  “The corn’s sprouting several ears on each plant.”

  “Well, that’s good.” She cleared her throat and tried to relax. Apologize to the man.

  “I’m working on a pair of rockers for the porch,” he said, bringing his hands down.

  “Oh? A few chairs would be nice,” she replied, breathless as his fingers brushed her leg.

  “Figured on going in to town next week. The barn needs a little more paint and the house must be re-chinked in some areas.”

  “I see.”

  “You wanta ride along? Maybe we could stop and eat at Millie’s,” he said, rubbing his hands back and forth on his legs.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Suddenly his right arm came up and over her and rested on the swing behind her, his fingers leaving a flaming spot on her shoulder. Friendly, friendly, friendly. The words beat into her brain, and her apology went sailing.

  “Listen, Jubilee. I got carried away this morning.” He paused and Jubilee stared straight ahead, ever conscious of his arm, hot as flames, across her shoulders. “I think I made a fool of myself, demanding things from you. I had no right to do that.”

  “Uh huh.” Witty comeback.

  “I want you to know I’ve sent a letter to Loyal, my brother, who lives in Ohio. He’s taking a trip to Philadelphia soon to visit his in-laws. I’ve asked him to check into the problem.”

  His hand caressed her upper arm.

  “Oh.” Her voice squeaked.

  “I probably should’ve gotten your permission, but I’m hoping we can solve this matter without you having to return to Philadelphia. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

  His other hand grasped hers and she caught her breath. Turning her head, her eyes collided with his green ones. “Is that all right with you, Jubilee?”

  “I…” Where had her ability to speak gone? Her heart hammered. No thought of apology crossed her mind. Warm rushes of sweet emotion washed over her as he leaned forward. Her breath slowed. His eyes grew hooded.

  “Jubilee?”

  His voice hit her like a gust of icy wind. She jerked to a standing position.

  “I’ve got,” she couldn’t look at him, “dishes…uh…to do.” Her pulse pounded. That took forever to say.

  He stood, ramming his hands into his pockets.

  “All right,” he said, his voice flat, “I’ll help.”

  “No!” Who’d screamed? Oh my, it was her. She backed to the door. “You, uh….can work on the rockers.”

  She glanced at him and the disappointment on his face was obvious.

  He nodded his head.

  “Sure, whatever,” he said shortly and took both stairs in one step and strode for the barn.

  She crept into the cabin and peeked at him from the window. Oh, good gracious. What was wrong with her? She leaned back against the door while tears rushed to her eyes, and she pressed her hand to her throat. Why? Couldn’t she sit there and chat with the man? Why hadn’t she apologized? Every word seemed glued in her throat.

  An overwhelming sense of attraction for Rafe filled her senses, yet she battled even allowing his arm to rest along her back, or him to steal a small kiss. She trembled and covered her face with her hands. Her heart squeezed in agony. Were they still just business partners? She didn’t want to be. It certainly didn’t feel that way in her heart.

  How did this whole relationship thing work? She swallowed. Why couldn’t she sit and face what followed? Colvin, that’s why. A wave of nausea swept through her. If what Colvin had done to her was the way of a man with a woman, she wanted no part of such a liaison.

  Tears splashed to her cheeks. Developing a relationship with Rafe proved too chancy. What if the attempt didn’t work? Would she be just a stand-in for Rosemary? Ugh. That would be the limit.

  Perhaps Rafe’s idea of a real marriage wasn’t much removed from Colvin’s? Yes, Rafe was good and kind and he’d stuck by his promise. Yet…this physical matter was very frightening.

  She couldn’t visualize talking to Miss Esther about such things. Her mind flicked to Elsa. She certainly seemed to be very much in love with Ivan. They’d no doubt consummated their marriage. If this joining were so terrible, could Elsa look to her husband with such deep devotion and respect? Her face grew hotter as she contemplated her thoughts. However, she had to know. With a deep breath, she resolved somehow to talk with Elsa about it. Somehow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Rafe beat himself up all the way to the barn. I’m an idiot. A royal idiot. Why had he pushed intimacy so quickly? Because he was an idiot. He gave an audible growl. Of course the woman was jumpy. She’d been married to his cruel cousin.

  He entered the shadowed barn and began to pace, trying to figure a reason to be knocking at the cabin door. After swiping an impatient hand across his neck, he grabbed up the rocker and set it on the low bench before reaching for the planer. He was going to be an expert furniture maker if this kept up.

  He ran the tool down the side of the armrest. Wooing Rosemary hadn’t been a problem for him, but he’d been much younger and he’d viewed it more as a game. A challenge. She’d been a prize of sorts. A prickly prize. He smiled as his mind likened Rosemary to a cactus.

  He stared at his hands, covered in wood shavings. How much finer it’d be to have Jubilee’s thick hair in his palms, to caress the softness, to run his hands across her smooth skin. To inhale her scent and finger the soft shift she wore to bed. He groaned. This wasn’t helping. It would take time. He had to remember courting her would take a lot of time. And prayer.

  He tossed the planer to the soft dirt floor in frustration and walked to the open door. Parking his fists on his hips and shifting his weight to his right foot, he scrunched his face in thought. What kind of terrors lived in Jubilee’s mind? She’d appeared almost fearful. He hung his head and prayed for his wife. Prayed for her healing.

  Tomorrow they’d take a trip to Ivan and Elsa’s. He hoped this meeting wouldn’t be as tension-filled as dinner had been. He’d been so set to tell her the third aspect of his plan—his plan to re-evaluate the ‘business,’ part of their marriage. He lifted his arm and leaned against the door.

  Too bad his sisters weren’t about. They could milk out her reason for her reluctance for his touch. Did the woman despise him? He shook his head. No, he’d seen interest flash across her face. He smiled when he thought of her walking in on him bare-chested. She’d been so positively shocked, she hadn’t been able to wipe the surprised fascination from her eyes.

  No, there was definitely heat between them. If only she’d let him explore that avenue a bit. The kiss at his parents’ house, false as it was, had awoken a desire in him that was hard to tamp down. Then the encounter in the barn. And from the look on Jubilee’s face, she’d felt something too.

  So, furniture maker he’d be. He turned from the door and tried to push her beautiful face from his mind as he picked up the discarded tool. Pastor Barnett’s sermon from a few weeks past entered his mind. He was learning a whole new dimension for, ‘charity suffereth long.’

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Jubilee brought out the buckets of fresh blackberries and raspberries she’d cleaned the day before, along with the jars, and Rafe stowed them in the wagon. But Jubilee’s mind wasn’t on the berries. It was on how she could possibly discuss her questions with Elsa.

  The ride over was made in complete silence. As soon as the men had the berries and equipment unloaded on the rough outside table Ivan had built for such chores, both men strode to the barn, deep in conversation.

  Jubilee was grateful the work would be done outside under the tree. With the August heat, it’d be much cooler. Elsa already had a fire going and several pots were strewn on the tabletop.

  “Hello, Elsa.” Jubilee greeted.

  Her friend smiled. “I so glad you come.
We cook berries and chat all day. Come.” Laughing, Elsa wrapped her arm around Jubilee and the women walked to the cabin. “Da men are ’bout business today, yes?”

  Jubilee relaxed, chuckling at Elsa’s broken description. Rafe had insisted they needed to get right to work. Jubilee giggled. “I suppose so.”

  “No worry. We make breakfast, then we work jelly. First, tea.” Just as the woman opened the door, a wail echoed from the back of the house. “Ah, Britta awake.”

  Elsa flashed a smile as she disappeared into the bedroom. Jubilee kept busy, filling cups with tea and pouring in the hot water from the teapot.

  “Ah, here we be,” Elsa sing-songed as she came through with her sleepy bundle.

  “Jubie, Jubie.” Baby Britta chattered and grabbed Jubilee’s sleeve.

  Jubilee gratefully gathered the little tike into her arms and closed her eyes, taking in her baby smell before dropping a kiss on the child’s forehead. Holding Britta was like a warm hug, and Jubilee reveled in it this morning. How pleasant to cradle her, a balm to her spirit. She doubted she’d love her very own any more than this precious girl. She could hardly stop her mind from visualizing herself holding Rafe’s child.

  “She still sleepy, I think.” Elsa laughed when Britta popped her thumb into her mouth and sank into Jubilee’s body.

  “I have good news.”

  Jubilee blinked to scatter the moisture in her eyes, then looked up. “Oh?”

  Elsa tilted her head, smiled, and patted her belly. “Britta soon be a sister.”

  Jubilee’s mouth popped open. “Oh, my. That is wonderful news. Congratulations, Elsa.”

  Elsa’s fair face turned a touch rosy and she bustled about, bringing over the tea and sugar to the table.

  “Yes, Ivan and I so pleased. I try tell Britta. She no understand, yet.” She sliced several pieces of bread and lathered them with butter and honey before she returned to the table.

  Jubilee touched her finger on the tike’s nose and was rewarded with a smile from around the thumb. Her heart swelled and tears returned to the back of her eyes.

  “Bed, bed.” Britta roused and reached toward her mother.