Year of Jubilee (18 page)

“I hope you’re aware Rafe only married you
because I’d become unavailable. Perhaps that will explain if he
happens to call out my name in his sleep. He is, obviously, still
pining for me.”

Now, what exactly did one say to that?
Especially when Jubilee knew the real situation of their marriage
and Rosemary did not.

“You’re a very beautiful woman, Rosemary,”
Jubilee kept her voice soft.

She gave Jubilee a second perusal and then
narrowed her eyes.

“Exactly what is your game, little miss?”
she all but hissed.

Jubilee shook her head, wishing Rafe would
return. “There’s no game.” Exhaustion washed over her, and
Jubilee’s shoulders sagged. She just wanted this obtrusive woman to
leave.

Rosemary’s chin lifted suddenly and, as she
looked over Jubilee’s shoulder, her face transformed into a
charming smile. The change in her countenance appeared almost
comical. Jubilee turned and saw Rafe approaching. Ah, that
explained the metamorphosis.

“Oh, Rafe, darling, I so wish you and your
lovely wife could stay a bit longer. We barely had time to talk.”
She gave a mock pout, and Jubilee resisted a strong desire to roll
her eyes.

Rafe stepped to Jubilee’s side and brought
his arm around her shoulders. Jubilee stiffened. What was he
doing?

“Well, I’ve got to get the little wife
home.” He paused and looked down into Jubilee’s face. “Right,
darling? We have chores to do and things to take care of.”

He brought up his other hand and brushed
Jubilee’s cheek in a caress as he gazed at her. Jubilee’s eyes
widened, and then she saw his wink. Still, knowing ’twas a
masquerade did nothing to stop her heart from racing.

Rafe looked at Rosemary now, and Jubilee
struggled to throw herself into yet another role. The other woman’s
face stiffened into a stern mask, her mouth pressed together in a
disapproving line.

“You understand, Rosemary. You and Dale are
building a house. It takes a lot of time and planning. Jubilee and
I are creating a farm and we’ve got to tend it.” He gave her a wide
smile. “Nice seeing you again, though.”

He picked up both satchels in his big hand
and, with his arm still around Jubilee, he turned her toward the
downward slope to the boarding gangplank. Jubilee stiffened her
resolve not to turn and shoot her a smile of victory.

Once they had safely boarded, Rafe led her
to the railing facing the shore. The overcrowded conditions of the
steamer caught Jubilee in a crunch of tall passengers pushing her
from the rail. She struggled to stay behind him while being jostled
by the exuberant group. Glancing up, she had a full view of Rafe’s
expression and gasped.

There was pain there. No, not
pain—
agony.
Her chest ached in realization. The whole visit
had been a terrible masquerade. The nightly talks, the picnic, the
ring. What was the old saying? You can’t make a silk purse from a
pig’s ear. He only wanted…Rosemary.

Jubilee stumbled through the throng until
she reached the Salon wall and leaned against it. Behind her the
people laughed, cried, and waved. Tears rushed to her eyes.
What
a fool I’ve been.
So this was how life would be. A return to
their sense of normal. He in the barn, and she in the cabin. Who
would possibly want a pig’s ear? It was business.
Pure
business.

She barely had time to collect herself when
he returned, questions flying. Blinking and sputtering excuses, she
begged him to escort her to her cabin. No need to fake a sickness.
She
was
ill.

Inside the small room, she dropped her
satchel at the door and flung the small bunk down. She sat on the
edge of the bed, clutched her rolling stomach, and began to sob. As
the tears fell, she tried to understand why this realization hurt
so much. He’d never indicated their status had changed, so why did
this upset her so? She pulled her legs up and tumbled into a fetal
position on the hard mattress.

Because really, her reaction made no sense.
She sniffed, breathing in spasmodic gasps. Perhaps she was tired.
Or maybe she missed the family atmosphere. Wiping her face, she
pictured Rafe across the room on a chaise lounge and fresh tears
washed down her cheeks.

This must be her fault, she realized,
sucking in a shuddering breath. Rafe hadn’t changed. She had. Not
sure what to do with that thought, she pulled the sheet to her
chin.

How would she make this journey home? She
was too raw to join Rafe. As much as she enjoyed being on deck with
the sun and wind caressing her skin, she needed to remain right
here. Practicality reigned. After all, she was sick. The girl who’d
never missed a day due to illness would lie in partial pretense to
avoid seeing him. Perhaps by the time they reached Evansville she’d
have recovered her wits.

Tomorrow they’d arrive and ride that
stagecoach all day long to reach Princeton. Jubilee squeezed her
eyes closed at the thought of it. Then load up in the wagon and
drive to the farm. Back to life as usual. Or, perhaps, back to life
as unusual. She spun the sapphire ring on her finger and more tears
seeped from her eyes.

* * *

Rafe stared at Jubilee the following
morning. Dark circles rimmed her beautiful brown eyes, and she
refused to meet his gaze. Even her face seemed pale. His brows drew
together. Had he missed something? Perhaps she was still sick.

The woman said not a word the entire way
back in the overcrowded coach. The rest of the crammed occupants
were quite chatty, however, which helped the trip pass.
Nevertheless, her silence weighed on Rafe’s mind.

It nearly crossed his lips a dozen times to
broach the subject on the way home, but she kept dozing on his
shoulder as he steered the horse. Once they arrived, she scrambled
into the cabin, her arms loaded with her belongings, before he
could even maneuver around the wagon. There was nothing left to do
but take the horse to the barn and get settled for the night.

It grew quite late by the time he had the
horse bedded down and everything unloaded and put away. Still, he
couldn’t sleep. He avoided the cot and paced a bit before striding
to the door.

Rafe stood in front of the barn, hands in
his pockets, looking at the cabin. Through the night’s deep
darkness, he could barely make out the structure in the distance.
He hung his head and reached a toe out to scrape the dirt for no
particular reason. He wanted to go to the door and knock and…just
talk. They hadn’t had a conversation the entire trip. He…missed
their talks. He lifted his head. He missed her.

Grunting, he turned away and went back into
the barn to his cot. Back to business as usual. He had to get used
to his role on their farm. Why in the world was his head filled
with Jubilee? Sleep eluded him as he lay thinking of her shy smile
and her long, shining hair. He sighed.

Would she wear that white thing she’d worn
at his parents’ house? Would she raise the window tonight to let
the air in? Would her thick curls be unbound and gathered about her
delicate shoulders? He groaned and flung his arm over his eyes.
First Rosemary and now Jubilee. What was he thinking? Some folks
might say he was fickle. But the truth was, Rosemary paled in
comparison to Jubilee, just like the feelings he’d once had for his
former fiancée.

Firmly, he pushed thoughts of Jubilee away.
It was just because he’d spent some intimate time with her, that’s
all. Now life would be different. Everything would go back to
normal.

* * *

But it didn’t. He worked the farm, ate
dinner at the house. He prayed over the weather and the crops,
hoping for a good harvest.

They went to church. Jubilee ogled that
baby, making Rafe cringe. Elsa stopped by the cabin, and Jubilee
spent the day on the front porch with Britta. He struggled to keep
his eyes on the barn as he painted, and Ivan’s thick Swedish accent
faded to unintelligible syllables.

It made him realize the emotion he’d felt
for Rosemary had been very shallow next to the all-encompassing
nature of what he now felt for Jubilee. And what did he feel for
Jubilee?

He pondered this as he wandered along the
edge of the corn patch the next day. It rose chest high and as
green as grass. The wind stirred the stalks and shuffled them,
filling the field with whispers. He kept walking until he came to
the verge of the woods and parked his body beneath a young pin oak
tree, its branches dipping low and enclosing him in his own thought
cave.

Pressing his back against the smooth bark,
he found himself mouthing a prayer.
God, what’s wrong with
me?
His thoughts were consumed with Jubilee’s smile, her
flushed face, that gorgeous hair, and her uncertain, dark eyes. How
fragile she seemed, yet how strong. A huge swell of protectiveness
rose. He was so drawn to her. A longing tugged at him to pull her
into his arms. He…his eyes opened wide. Holy hornets. He loved her.
He was in love with Jubilee!

He sat a long while, blinking, mouth agape.
At last he stood in shock. When had this happened? How had this
happened? He picked up a small rock and flung it. What an idiot. He
was in love with his business partner.

Yes, yes, she was his business partner.
Business
. All business. He’d promised her they’d work
together to make a home for themselves—a cooperative effort. She’d
clean, blither and blather, and he’d plow, harvest, etc., and so
on, and
this
… This had not been part of the arrangement. A
dawning fell across him. Everett had known. Rafe recalled his
laughter that day in the wagon.
I’ve been so blind.

Now what? She’d been such a sport during the
visit home, battling with Rosemary, saving his face. And
he’d…
great
. He’d made sure she knew the whole charade was
nothing more than a ruse. He brought to mind the day he’d dropped
to his knee to propose. Hadn’t he then wished the whole scene was
real?

Wait a minute.
Why was he standing
here ruminating as if there were nothing he could do about all of
this?
She’s my wife
. That sort of gave him an edge. Yeah.
Where could she go?

An idea formed in his head. Only, if this
failed, what a difficult situation they’d both be in. He raised his
gaze to the robin’s egg sky and let his soul cry out.
God’s
plan
. Hadn’t his father assured him things happen for a reason?
Is this your intent, God?
I love her. But I can’t go off
on my own again. I made such a mess before
.
Should I pursue
my wife? My…wife.
Warmth spread through his chest and sureness
settled in his gut—an Almighty assurance. He grinned.

Business was about to be mixed with pleasure
because, as of this moment, he was gonna court his business
partner.

Jubilee’s eyes widened. Rafe’s broad smile
caught her off guard and took the breath from her body. She dropped
her gaze to her plate, then cut her eyes back to the wild daisies
that sprang from the pewter coffee cup in the middle of the table.
She had no vase, so when Rafe had appeared for supper, clutching
those flowers, she’d scrambled around to find something, anything,
to put them in.

“Do you think you can?” he asked as she
stared at the white and yellow posies.

She swallowed, her glance colliding with
his. “What?”

Somewhere amongst the disarming smile and
the playful daisies, he’d shot her a question, but she hadn’t the
foggiest notion what he’d asked. Her face suffused with heat.

“The swing?” He prompted and shook his head
with a chuckle. “I’d like to hang the thing on the porch. I
wondered if you could help hold the sides.”

Ah, the swing. “Uh…yes.”

That crooked smile swept across his face,
mesmerizing her.

“Good.” His brows rose and the dimple
deepened.

She quickly dropped her eyes to the plates
on the table. Her nervous hands itched to be busy, so she stood to
gather them.

“Let’s leave the dishes for now and get to
hanging while there’s plenty of sunlight. I’ll be more than glad to
give you a hand with those afterward.”

She hesitated before setting down the stack
she’d collected and rubbed her hands down the front of her
dress.

He rose, took a step to the door to open it,
and indicated with his muscled arm that she should precede him. She
allowed a small smile to flit across her features in a response to
his bold grin.

’Twas one thing to interact with him under
the cover of darkness as they had at his parents’ house, but this
was daylight, when his masculine presence seemed to fill the
corners of the room. And without his family’s expectations, well,
this situation became a different thing indeed. His warm smiles and
flirting eyes confused and hypnotized. Feeling like a dolt, she
slipped through the door ahead of him.

He jogged to the barn, her attention on his
easy movements. A few moments later he reappeared with the large
swing, easily slung over one bunched shoulder. She stepped back as
he arrived at the cabin and flipped it down on the left side of the
porch.

The muscles of his shoulders rippled and
snugged the shirt tight. Jubilee dropped her gaze as a rush of
attraction tugged at her, causing heat to rise up her neck. With a
deep breath, she coached herself.
Nothing has changed.
Everything’s the same.

Liar.

He adjusted the swing on the floor in the
exact location of where it would hang, then tightened the rope and
picked up one armrest. He held the side easily in one hand.

“Can you hold this while I reach and tie it
off?” he asked, as he grabbed a stool from beside the front
door.

“O…kay.”

He handed the arm to her with an encouraging
grin, and stepped up on the stool. Her shoulder brushed his leg,
and she strained to lean back. She kept her head down to hide her
hot face.
I’m being ridiculous.
I’ve sat by the man in a
buggy seat, slept across the room from him, but I can’t lean
against him without embarrassment?
Yet she couldn’t stop her
body’s reaction to his nearness.