Year of Jubilee (26 page)

As she lay there, enjoying the closeness of
her husband, she became increasingly aware of how late the hour
was. Jubilee forced her eyes open and flicked her gaze to the
strong sunshine washing through the window. Her brow puckered when
she heard the cow lowing insistently from the barn. Then the
unmistakable squeaks of a wagon pulling up the drive.

With haste, wondering who rolled up to the
cabin, she flung the blankets off and hopped around, grabbing at
her shift to cover her chilled body. Her hand went to the wall
below the peg next her bed, but her fingers moved through empty
air. A flush covered her face as she recalled her dress had been
discarded and kicked beneath the mattress.

Rafe stretched and rose up on one elbow, the
blankets falling away to expose his muscular chest, sprinkled with
dark blond hair trickling to his navel. Her gaze made it to that
point before she sensed his eyes on her. He gave a sleepy, wolfish
grin. Her face heated even more.

“Good morning.” That grin still in place, he
raised an eyebrow at her thin shift. He patted the mattress. “The
bed was much warmer when you were in here.”

“Someone’s outside.” She ignored the longing
to do just what he suggested. “And I think it’s late, because the
animals are fussing.”

His smile faded and his eyes went to the
door, listening for the things she’d mentioned. Sure enough, the
cow let out a painful bellow.

She bent to grab the dress from beneath the
bed and wiggled into the garment before someone knocked on the
door. Rafe stood behind her, pulling on his wool pants before
reaching for his shirt. A second knock sounded. She plaited her
hair into a braid as Rafe strode across the floor to answer the
door, buttoning his shirt. He swung his head back to check if
Jubilee was decent before swinging it open. There stood Ivan and
Elsa with baby Britta balanced on her hip. Oh, my, what a time for
a visit.

“Your cow seem hungry maybe,” Ivan remarked.
“You have trouble?”

Rafe cleared his throat. “Uh, no, I haven’t
fed them yet.”

Jubilee cringed at the odd look that crossed
Ivan and Elsa’s faces.

“You sick?” Ivan pressed.

“Uh, no.”

Ivan’s bushy brows came down in confusion.
“You remember we kill hogs today?”

* * *

Rafe wanted to kick himself. How could he
have forgotten he’d made arrangements to slaughter hogs with Ivan?
But then, last night had been an
unusual
evening.

“Yeah, yeah, come on in. Let me put my boots
on. As soon as I take care of the milking and the feeding we can
get started.”

Both of them came in with hesitation, and
Elsa’s eyes went straight to the bed where the covers lay in a
mess. Ivan turned immediately to Rafe, sat next to him at the
table, and began a conversation about curing the ham and bacon
portions of the hogs.

Rafe ducked his head and concentrated on
pulling the stubborn boots on while Ivan talked in butchered
phrases. He couldn’t feel less like cutting up those hogs. Ivan
paused and Rafe realized his friend had just asked a question. Rafe
shrugged, hoping his gesture gave an adequate answer. Ivan began
blabbering again, but Rafe found his thoughts wandering back to
Jubilee’s soft skin.
Oh, and her hair.
Rafe suppressed a
groan.

By all that was good and holy, it was going
to be hard to walk outta this cabin and pretend something
life-changing hadn’t occurred between the two of them last night.
He stood, then grabbed his hat and gloves.
Doggone it.
He
shot a glance at Jubilee wandering toward the stove, Britta
toddling close behind. Elsa’s narrowed eyes fastened to him.

Ivan babbled some gibberish about the new
smokehouse he’d built, and how he’d be glad to smoke the meat with
the hickory and maple wood he’d acquired. Rafe was just short of
busting him in the jaw to shut him up. He hesitated at the door,
willing Jubilee to notice, begging to get a glimpse of her dark
eyes.

Their gazes locked as Ivan swung the door
open. He tried to read the expression there, but she glanced at
Britta who yanked at her skirt. Finally, not about to stall
anymore, he pulled a smile and lifted his hand when her gaze
returned to his. He hoped, for now, the gesture was enough.

* * *

The door closed behind the men. Jubilee’s
cheeks burned like a hot coal as she met Elsa’s knowing face. She
wiped her sweaty hands down her dress and approached her friend who
clutched a bag filled with her knitting.

“Let me make some coffee,” Jubilee offered,
with a voice slightly higher than normal, and turned away from her
guest.

“You mind I add wood to fire?”

“Oh. No, go right ahead,” Jubilee stuttered,
having difficulty getting the stove to cooperate.

A flame finally licked greedily around the
round log, and Jubilee sensed Elsa returning to the table. By the
time Jubilee turned, grabbed a bowl, and dumped in the ingredients
for flapjacks, Elsa had sat on the bench. Jubilee raised her eyes a
bit and caught her smile.

“I’m so sorry, Elsa. I didn’t know you were
coming today. I guess Rafe forgot to tell me.”

“I not sorry.” Elsa’s fair face dimpled and
her hazel eyes danced. “You seem very happy this day.”

Jubilee smiled but fixed her eyes on the
batter.

“I suppose you be angry with me?” Elsa
questioned.

Jubilee eyed her and shook her head. “No,
I’m not.”

Elsa looked down at her daughter toddling
around the room. She’d made her way over to the bed and pulled the
blankets off.

“When Rafe come, he sad, like lost boy.”
Elsa giggled a bit. “He so big to be little boy, no? I only want
you be happy, Jubilee. I know how happy little Britta make for me.
And Ivan. I want for you, too.”

Jubilee set the bowl down, plopped opposite
of Elsa, and laid her hand on her arm. “Don’t feel badly, Elsa. You
did the right thing. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

Elsa beamed then jumped as she remembered
something. “Oh, I have mail for you. Miss Rosy at post office ask I
bring.”

Elsa pulled two envelopes from her dress
pocket and handed them to Jubilee. Jubilee gave a little cry of
pleasure, having received a pair of letters when they seldom even
got one. The first was from Rafe’s parents but, as she eyed the
other one with no return address, her breath whooshed from her
body. She’d recognize that fancy writing anywhere.

She swayed. Her vision fuzzed. Had Elsa said
something? Jubilee stood. She heard a strange voice ask to be
excused to visit the necessary, and she realized it was her own.
Somehow she stumbled out the back entrance, across the yard, and
into the privy without falling over. She collapsed on the floor and
pushed the envelope from Rafe’s parents into her pocket. As she
leaned against the rough door, her hands ripped open the letter
with the fancy calligraphy. Another letter from Rosemary. Her eyes
strained to read the missive in the poor light.

My dearest Rafe,

Oh, please forgive me for writing again
so soon and without having received a reply from you, but things
have worsened here. I long to join you, therefore I’ve purchased a
steamer ticket that will take me to your side, where I belong.
Please meet me at the Evansville Wharf on Dec. 5
^th
. If you are unable to, I’ll find my way north
unchaperoned. I’ll endure the hardship through the Thanksgiving
holiday, but I can wait no longer. I must see you.

All my love, my darling,

Rosemary

The little shrew. How dare she confess her
passion for another woman’s husband? Her stomach rocked, and she
staggered to gag into the open hole. Sweat broke out on her face
and the rolling in her middle continued. That awful woman planned
to arrive with the full intent of taking her husband. She sat for a
very long time, trying to settle her insides and her nerves.

Two weeks. Two weeks before that horrid
Rosemary appeared. What to do?
What to do?
Jubilee wanted to
run for the woods, but thoughts of the cougar flashed into her
brain. Besides, Elsa and Britta waited for her in the cabin. Ivan
was engaged in an all-day task with Rafe. Her stomach rocked again
and her teeth chattered. She hadn’t even bothered to grab her shoes
or her cape. Tears burned her eyes.

She heard the cabin door shut.
Elsa.
She steeled herself. Her friend would be full of questions. A
tentative knock sounded on the outhouse.

“Jubilee? You okay?”

Tears coursed down Jubilee’s face and her
stomach clenched again.

“No.” Her answer was no lie. “I…think I’m
sick.”

“Oh.”

This is my way out.

“Maybe you should take Britta home. I’m not
sure if it’s catching.” A sob rose in Jubilee’s throat and she
sealed her mouth with her hand. A broken heart was most assuredly
not
contagious.

“Oh, yes,” Elsa exclaimed. “I get Ivan.”

Jubilee hung her head and wiped her cold
face as Elsa’s hurried footsteps grew fainter.

“Jubie, Jubie,” Britta called.

Not even Britta’s sweet voice could bring
Jubilee from her misery. She stood and leaned against the door.
Heavy footsteps came quickly across the yard.

“Jubilee? Are you all right?”
Rafe.
Fresh tears cascaded down her face. “Do you need help? Elsa offered
to stay.”

“No,” she burst out.

“Are you sure? Can I come in?”

“
No.
” The word tore from her
lips.

Silence stretched for a moment before Rafe
spoke again. “I’m going to see the Larsson’s off. I’ll be right
back.”

Not if I can help it.
She listened
for his footsteps to fade then eased the door open. Her mind numb
with anguish, she sprinted barefoot across the field, now stubbly
and pale with cut stems. She ignored the pain and cold in her feet
and slipped into the dimness of the trees.

What was she doing here? A sob broke from
her body. There was nowhere to go. She had no money, no clothes, no
destination. Choking on tears and hating herself for her stupidity,
she only knew she needed to escape.

A shadowed form shifted through the dead
vegetation and Jubilee froze with a gasp. She peered into the
undergrowth, then glanced around. When had the weather become so
gray and formidable? She shivered, hugged herself, and looked down
at the small white crystals falling on her sleeve.

A moving object caught her attention and she
jerked her head up, her breath coming in foggy puffs. Her gaze
shifted from tree to tree to get her bearings, but her comforting
woods seemed very forbidding.
Dangerous.
Fear bloomed in her
chest.

Quickly making her way to a young, sturdy
oak, she shimmied up the trunk. Almost all the brown, curled-up
leaves held fast to the branches. Her fingers and nose were
practically frozen by the time she stopped climbing. The exertion
had warmed her but, as she sat clutching the tree, the icy wind
chilled her to the bone.

She licked her dry, cold lips while the
frosty air bit her cheeks. Why hadn’t she grabbed her cloak?
Or
her shoes?
The small crystals gradually turned into fat, wet
snowflakes, shrouding her view. The tree creaked and swayed, making
her dizzy. She opened her eyes. Was Britta tugging on her skirt?
Her brain felt fuzzy and her eyes flickered open and closed. Now
open.

A ghostly voice echoed amidst the trees. No,
only the cold permeating her thinking processes. She blinked. Her
body slipped a bit. She had to hold on. It was a long drop to the
ground.
Why am I here again?
Time slipped by.

A shadow moved below. Jubilee closed her
eyes for a lengthy moment before opening them. She leaned over,
trying to distinguish shapes. The wind whipped through the leaves,
stealing her breath, casting snow in her face.

Was it morning? Why did it seem so dark?
Swiveling her head from one side to the other, she pondered whether
her mouth was open. Something brushed her arm. Blinking, she fixed
her gaze and found white powder. Where had this come from?
I
should brush it off.
She turned her head to stare at her hand,
perplexed that it wouldn’t release from the trunk.

Puzzling.
A draft blew in. Was the
door open? No,
no
. She was hiding. While pressing her head
against the jagged tree trunk, she attempted to remember her reason
for hiding. Had she broken a dish? Was Mrs. Ulster about to switch
her?
Think.

The tree tilted again. No, Colvin had come
back. Well, he’d never find her here. She was safe. Besides, he’d
be gone in a moment. Her head lolled from side to side, the bark
scraping her cheek. She grew drowsy as the white blanket enveloped
her. Inhale…exhale. Everything turned gray.

Her left hand flew out into space in an arc,
colliding against a rough branch. Her whole body leaned.
Where
am I?
Tired, so tired. Woozy, dizzy, faint. She huffed a short
breath and groaned. Her entire being began to relax as she lost the
battle with hypothermia. A distant growl eased into her
semi-conscious brain.

Rafe returned to the outhouse, only to
discover it empty. Deciding she must have made her way back into
the house, he sprinted to the back of the cabin and yanked the door
open. But inside was shadowed and vacant. In confusion he exited
and scanned the surrounding area.
Where is she?

He slammed the door closed and tore around
the yard calling her name. Then he strode to the barn to do the
same, with no luck. Had she gone with the Larrsons? No, he’d
watched them lumber off down the road. He walked slowly away from
the barn, searching the surrounding area.

Suddenly a terrible dread dawned on him as
he looked to the left at the wooded tree line. His steps faltered
to a stop. That had been where she’d gone after he’d arrived, and
again later when the Society’s letter had appeared. Surely she
wouldn’t, not in this cold weather. He looked up. The first
snowflakes of the season filtered down in tiny flakes. Fear ran up
his spine.