Year of Jubilee (20 page)

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 ground 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?”

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.