Year of Jubilee (8 page)

“Philadelphia.”

Rafe stopped and cast a glance at her. “As
in, Pennsylvania?” At her nod, he let out a whistle. “Now that’s a
piece away. How did you get all the way to Gibson County,
Indiana?”

“Hog tied to the back of a horse.”

Rafe’s hands froze, and he snapped his head
up. “What?”

She ceased planting to look at him. “What’s
not to understand?”

Rafe’s brows furrowed. “You mean to tell me
Colvin tied you up and hauled you here?”

“After kidnapping me.”

He watched her bend and poke the seeds into
the ground, as if they were talking of the weather. Kidnapping? Not
sure what to say to that, he tore into the rest of the row,
shoveling like a madman. Finally, he stopped.

“He
kidnapped
you?” He rested his
hand on the top of the shovel handle.

“Yes.” She never paused.

He shifted his feet and thrust a hand in his
pocket. “From the orphan home?”

“On my way there.”

“Listen, I…” He wiped his brow. “I’m sorry.
I had no idea.”

She shrugged and continued to plant. A
thousand questions leaped to Rafe’s mind. He ran a hand through his
hair and glanced off to the fields. “How old were you?”

Her hands never paused. “Sixteen.”

A heaviness settled in Rafe’s heart. His
glance flicked to her, but his hands stayed busy. His thoughts
turned to prayers and soon the row was completed. They finished the
onions, radishes, and peppers in silence. Rafe’s back ached, but
his heart even more.

“You’re gonna need some help with hoeing and
such,” Rafe commented, avoiding the subject he wanted to discuss,
as he gathered the implements. “This garden will be more work than
a whole field.” He cast his eyes over the finished result. It was
huge and had to be to get enough food stored away for the both of
them for a whole winter.

“I can do it.”

He took her in. There was no way he would
open that can of worms by denying her claim. Best to stay silent.
Besides, she probably
could
hoe the garden alone. He dipped
his head to hide a smile. Dirt clung to her face, hands, and skirt.
Sweat beaded across her brow. At just under five foot, the girl had
pluck. He had to give her that.

“I’ll take care of these.” He leaned forward
to take the empty bushel baskets from her, and she withdrew from
him. “Guess I better check that last field.”

He turned, then paused at her quiet
words.

“Thanks for the help.”

He nodded his head and flashed a smile.
“Anytime.”

* * *

Jubilee’s brow knitted as he sauntered away.
She supposed she’d been rude with her short-change answers. But he
couldn’t know the thoughts darting through her brain. This whole
trip thing had her tied in knots. Plus all his questions. Was it
safe for him to know all the details of where she’d come from? Or
how she came to be here? He could easily decide to take her back
and she was beyond the age to return. The Orphan Society of
Philadelphia only let girls stay until they turned eighteen.
Jubilee shuddered as she thought of the night of her eighteenth
birthday.

She moved to the corner of the cabin and
stood watching him as he went to the barn. He moved so easily for a
big guy.
Why did he take time to help me?
The garden was to
be her chore. The man was a mystery. She snorted.
All
men
were mysteries.

She shrugged to herself. What did it matter?
There was a bigger problem here. What would await her at his home?
And why in the world did he want her to go? Perhaps this was a
trick to remove her from the farm. She expelled an aggravated
breath.
Why didn’t I ask some questions of my own?
She
caught herself circling a nervous finger in the seam of her dress
and clenched her hands in frustration.
Because I’m a little ’ole
fraidy cat. That’s why.

And, scarier still, she wasn’t sure what to
do about it.

* * *

With the wagon seat jostling her into her
large companion, Jubilee berated herself for forgetting to give
Rafe that new burgundy shirt to wear for church. Not that it
mattered. He had on a well-made white one, tucked into black pants,
which set off not only his wide shoulders, but also his tight waist
and hips. Her face heated even as the thought entered her head.

She patted the peach creation Miss Esther
had bequeathed to her on her wedding day. Perhaps she’d be a bit
overdressed. It certainly felt that way. Yet she couldn’t help but
appreciate the wide smile Rafe had given her when she opened the
cabin door.

She’d done her best to lower her gaze to
keep him from seeing her hot face while he lifted her to the wagon
seat. What a goose she was. Scared to death of him, yet uplifted at
his attention. He spoke and startled her from her thoughts.

“You give any thought to taking that trip to
see my family?”

She gazed at the wildflowers along the path
as they drove. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I think we should
go.”

“Good. I hoped you’d agree.”

She turned her face to look at him. “What
would you’ve done if I’d said no?” She felt his shrug before he
spoke.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’d have gone alone
eventually. I’d like to see everyone. Sarah will be thrilled.”

Her curiosity piqued, she glanced his way.
“Who’s Sarah?”

“She’s my sister, my little sister. We’re
pretty close.”

She studied him from beneath her lashes.
“How many people do you have in your family?”

His fingers rubbed the leather of the reins,
and it caught Jubilee’s eye. He had large, capable hands.

“Well, there’s Mom and Pop, my oldest
brother, Everett, and Forrest. I’ve got two older sisters, Anna and
Phoebe, and there’s Loyal, who has a house in Ohio. Last, there’s
Benjamin, me and Sarah. Everyone else lives close to Mom and Pop,
plus one set of grandparents, my grandmother, three aunts and two
uncles.”

Jubilee fought the anxiety rising within
her. That was an awful lot of names to remember. “It must be nice
to have so many people in your family. Are any of your brothers and
sisters married?”

He laughed. “Yeah, everyone now except
Sarah, and she’s only sixteen. But she’s a beauty. She won’t be
single long.”

Jubilee turned her head to stare at the
landscape and digest all of this. What must it be like to have such
a large family? She’d nothing to compare it with except the
children she’d grown up with in the home, and they’d scattered here
and there. The rest of the wagon ride was made in silence,
Jubilee’s emotions going in circles about this family trip.

The church looked beautiful among the maple
trees, now fully leafed out. Irises bloomed around the foundation
in a multitude of colors. The simple building sported a tall
steeple above the two white entry doors. Pastor Barnett and his
small wife stood at the top of the stairs, greeting people.

After Rafe lifted her down in silence,
Esther bustled to meet her with a smile and a hug. Jubilee wasn’t
sure what to do. It was a new sensation for someone to receive her
in such a welcoming manner. The pastor’s wife chattered away,
escorting them to the sanctuary. Her husband descended the stairs
to greet them with a handshake and a grin. Jubilee’s face grew warm
at the parishioners’ stares as the Barnetts made a fuss over them.
Finally, they entered and took a back seat behind a young,
blond-haired couple with a baby.

The congregation stood to sing after the
pastor gave a short introduction. The song was unfamiliar to
Jubilee, so she moved her lips to hide the fact that she didn’t
know it. Next to her, Rafe’s low voice joined in. He knew the words
and his tone was pleasant and deep. They sat and Jubilee looked
around discreetly, having the advantage of sitting in the back.

Her mind returned to her companion who
shifted, bumping his leg against hers. She tried to focus on the
pastor, who stepped to the front to start the sermon. He wasn’t a
yeller, he was quiet. She had to strain to hear some of his words.
He appeared to have a real burden for lost people and a deep
conviction of reaching out to everyone in the area.

Somewhere in the middle of the sermon, the
baby in front of her began playing peek-eye. Jubilee tried not to
pay attention to the little imp, but it was difficult. With blond
hair and a flash of bright blue eyes, she was adorable. When at
last they stood for the benediction, the baby, whose face now
peered over her father’s tall shoulder, grinned openly. Jubilee did
her best to keep her gaze toward the song leader. After the closing
hymn, the couple in front of them turned to introduce themselves
and apologized for their child’s antics.

“Ve are most sorry. She not good on church.”
The father grinned and the baby dove for her mother’s arms. “I am
Ivan Larsson. Dis Elsa. And dis, dis Britta.”

“Ve are neighbors.” Elsa smiled, her green
eyes warm as she wrestled the bouncing child. “Ve move in few
months back.”

Rafe reached out and gave Ivan a firm
handshake. Jubilee couldn’t help but smile at Elsa’s friendly face.
Elsa was taller than her by a good six inches and slightly plump.
Her dress was a plain blue, yet well-made and new.

“You plant fields? My done. Is gud wetter
for da planting.” Ivan, with his strong Swedish accent, started a
conversation with Rafe while young Britta reached out, babbling for
Jubilee.

Startled, Jubilee looked at Elsa. But she
offered the child to her with a laugh. “You hold? She like
you.”

Uncertain, Jubilee held her arms out for the
chubby little girl who grabbed for her bonnet ties, knotted loosely
to allow the hat to hang on her back. Britta clapped and threw her
arms up in delight, grinning and showing her four white teeth.
Jubilee was captivated and caught her breath at her antics. Britta
squealed and held out her pint-sized hands, opening them and
closing them towards the beams of light through the shutters.

“Yah, likes the light, she does.” Elsa
beckoned Jubilee to bring the sprite closer to the windows. The
baby reached out to the window and let out a happy squeal.
Jubilee’s smile widened.

“She’s adorable.” Jubilee laughed. “How old
is she?”

“Britta be one next month.” Elsa nodded.

“Oh.” Jubilee giggled as the tot lunged
again to the shutters. She patted the baby’s back and crooned to
her. The child turned to her and gave a big baby grin before
becoming fascinated with Jubilee’s dress. She reached out to
squeeze the ruffled sleeve caps.

“Oh, no. No, no, Britta, pretty dress. No
wrinkle.” Elsa fussed. “You want me take her?”

“No, she’s fine.”

“That dress—so beautiful.” Elsa’s eyes
widened.

Jubilee smiled. “The pastor’s wife gave it
to me on my wedding day.”

“Oh,” Elsa’s face brightened. “Miss Esther
nice woman. You come visit? We have tea.”

Jubilee glanced to Rafe. “Perhaps.”

* * *

Rafe scanned the trio at the window as he
muddled through Ivan’s poor English. He caught his breath. Jubilee
positively glowed as she held Ivan’s babe. She bounced the child on
her hip and pressed the little girl’s hand against the slants of
light, earning a happy squeal. He pulled his eyes away and blinked,
remembering to nod to Ivan as he paused to search for the right
word, but his gut tightened. She seemed so at ease and happy to be
cradling that child. Her laughter floated to him.

Rafe pulled at his collar. He made his
getaway from Ivan and walked toward Jubilee, and saw her eyes go
from joy to guarded watchfulness. She handed the baby back to her
mother and waved at her new friend as she moved to Rafe’s side.
After assisting her up onto the wagon seat, it was complete and
utter silence all the way home.

Rafe and Jubilee attended church faithfully
each Sunday. The pastor and his wife always welcomed them with a
firm handshake and a hug. He enjoyed getting to know Ivan. As he
talked to the big Swede, Rafe’s gaze usually drifted to Jubilee
chatting with Elsa and reveling in Britta’s escapades. He tried to
harden his heart to Jubilee’s joy when she held Britta. Children
were a gift from God, Rafe knew, but there were no babies in
Jubilee’s future. Their marriage was a business arrangement. Rafe
clenched his jaw. This plan had been his idea hadn’t it?
At
least she isn’t homeless.

Rafe wrote a letter to his folks to let them
know the exact date of their visit. They’d stay two weeks with his
parents while Ivan took care of the farm. Sure would be good to get
back home and visit the family. But the thought of meeting up with
Rosemary again set his teeth on edge.

* * *

The night before the trip, Jubilee lamented
and fretted over every item she put in her newly purchased satchel.
Rafe had packed the wagon the day before so they could pull out
early in the morning.

Nerves had Jubilee staring at the rafters
when she should have been sleeping. Relief washed over her when the
clock hands moved to four a.m. She threw the covers from her and
began to get ready. Rafe had told her at dinner the night before
that the stagecoach left out of Princeton at five a.m. They’d board
Horse at Griffen’s Livery and Blacksmith Shop nearby.

She dressed quickly in the darkness, her
anxiety growing when she stepped onto the porch to wait for Rafe.
Streaks of pink appeared in the eastern sky, lighting the darkness
through the heavy woods. The air was moist, and God’s creation
seemed to hush at the wonder of daylight. She tried to concentrate
on the beautiful morning, but her hand worked a circle in her
skirt.
Please let everything be all right, Lord.

There wasn’t much conversation on the trip
into town. Rafe made short business of boarding Horse, transferring
the carpetbags and purchasing their tickets. Jubilee’s tummy
tumbled as she viewed the aging Concord stagecoach. But it had new
wheels and the leather looked sturdy. A boy with a ragged jacket
ran to and fro to bring buckets of water to the four horses
harnessed to the front.