Year of Jubilee (19 page)

He brushed her again as he secured the rope
to the porch beam before stepping down. With his knife, he split
the fibers through the two holes in the arm rest.

Bent over, his focus intent on the knot he
made, their faces drew together. Jubilee blinked and caught her
breath. He straightened and winked. More heat pulsated up her
neck.

“All right. One more.” He stepped to the
other side. “Here, why don’t you stand right about there?”

He pulled her to the exact spot, his hands
upon her waist. Jubilee licked her lips when he didn’t release
immediately, and her heart tripped a fast beat.

The other side was accomplished in the same
order, with the space even more limited because of the wall of the
house. Jubilee concentrated on keeping as far away as she could and
ignoring the pounding of her heart. She gave a thankful sigh when
she could step back. He tugged on the ropes to ensure the
sturdiness of his project, and she turned toward the door, intent
on making her escape.

“Whoa, there,” Rafe said. “Don’t you want to
try this contraption out?”

She spun and shrugged one shoulder.

He sat, none too gently. “See, sturdy as an
oak.” He patted the seat next to him and grinned. “Come on. We
deserve a few minutes of rest in the breeze. Those dishes can
wait.”

Reluctantly, she perched on the edge.

“Sit on back and let’s set it in
motion.”

As soon as she complied, he pushed gently
against the floorboards to set the seat swinging. She gripped the
armrest, feeling the muscle of his leg push against hers. Wasn’t
this swing smaller than normal? How silly to notice such a thing.
They rode in the buggy seat all the time, which was a tighter fit
than this. They’d sat together on the steamer, with her head on his
shoulder, not to mention the crammed ride in the stagecoach. She’d
practically been in his lap.

Still, this was an activity of choice, not
necessity. After a few minutes, her body began to relax despite her
over-awareness of his presence. The gentle sway soothed like a
rocking chair, with a tiny breeze cooling her skin.

“Nice.”

“Yep.” He crossed his arms over his
chest.

They swung back and forth for several
minutes.

“Fields are looking good.”

“Oh, uh-huh.” She sensed his perusal. One
hand lit to her skirt to swirl a knot in nervous circles.

“Why do you do that?” Stopping the swing, he
leaned toward her.

She caught her breath, sat stick straight,
and flung her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He gave a low chuckle. “You’re sure strung
up tight. Ain’t nothing to apologize about. I didn’t mean anything.
Just noticed you worry your dress a lot.”

His eyes were like searing coals on her
face. She shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose I’m a bit tense.”

“Why?”

She blinked and took a slow breath. “I’m not
sure.”

They rocked some more, and Jubilee clenched
her hands firmly in her lap. He spoke again. “I miss us talking, ya
know?”

Boy, do I.
She nodded. Only the
birds’ songs echoed around them for a few moments.

“Been thinking of going over to the
Larsson’s on Friday. He wants me to help clear another field for
next year. You want to go?”

“Oh, yes. Elsa and I can visit and make some
raspberry jam.”

Jubilee thought of the jars in the barn she
needed to gather and wash. Rafe uncrossed his arms and laid his
hands on his legs. She wiggled in her seat, glancing at his big
hand edging closer. Why had this talking thing seemed easier in the
dark?

“I think I’m going to get those jam jars in
the barn before I start the dishes.” She stood, setting the swing
in a series of jerks at her sudden departure.

He rose too, with a bit more leisure. “I’ll
be glad to get ’em for you.”

She told him where they were stored and
retreated to the sanctuary of the house. Taking a deep breath, she
seized upon the abandoned dishes, pausing on her way to the washtub
to watch Rafe stroll with easy strides to the barn. Gracious, the
man took her breath away. She was as agitated as a kitten in a
water bucket.
Why can’t I relax when he’s near?

The swing had been a great idea, and she’d
enjoy cooling herself on the shaded porch in between daily tasks.
But to sit beside him and carry on a conversation proved unnerving.
They’d talked of all kinds of things at his parents’ house. She
shook her head and decided to get to the task at hand instead of
analyzing the whole situation.

She dumped the hot water from the stovetop
into the tub and stepped outside to fetch another pailful. As she
swung the door open, in came Rafe, and they collided. It was like
hitting a brick wall.

Jubilee lost her footing until a large hand
wrapped around her waist to keep her from tumbling to the floor. In
a fluster, she tried to collect herself as she pulled from him,
trembling from surprise and the close encounter of their bodies
meeting.

“I…I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded a bit too
high and loud.

A wooden box rested on one of his shoulders,
a grin plastered on his face.

“I almost flattened you out.” He chuckled.
“You all right?”

She brushed a stray strand of hair behind
her ear and gave a stiff nod.

“Here. He swung the large box down and moved
to deposit it on the table. “Let me get the water.”

Before she knew what he was doing, he pulled
the pail from her unresponsive hand and strode out the door,
leaving her in a pool of confusion. Swallowing away the start she’d
received, she rubbed the base of her neck and headed back to the
washtub.

The water was too hot to start on the
dishes, so she wet the dishrag to swipe over the table. He was back
in two shakes and poured the cool liquid into the tub, testing the
temperature several times. Then, to her astonishment, he plunged
his hands in.

“What are you doing?” Her voice low, she
walked with hesitation toward the washtub.

“Well, at the current time, I’m searching
the water for a dishrag.”

She held the cloth up to him.

“Ah. That’s the thing.” He pulled it from
her hands and turned back to the tub.

“No, really, Rafe, what are you doing?”

He froze, his brow knitted. “Am I doing
something wrong?”

A small smile stole across her face.
“No.”

His eyebrows lifted and a dimple lit the
side of his mouth. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jubilee’s grin widened, and she gave her
one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve never seen a man do dishes.”

He panned an incredulous face. “You’re
kidding?”

She shook her head, but the smile wouldn’t
leave her face.

“Well, I’ll have you know my mother raised
me right. We boys had dish duty along with my sisters. And my
sisters frequently did outdoor chores.”

Jubilee tilted her head and picked up a
towel to dry. “Really?”

“Yes.” He grinned with a nod of his head.
“Our parents always said, ‘work is work, don’t put no gender on
it.’ Yeah, I hated to hear that when time rolled around to my dish
night.”

Jubilee gave a little giggle.

He stopped washing a moment but didn’t
remove his hands from the water. He stared at her. “I like to hear
you laugh. You should do it more often.”

She picked up another dish and refused to
look at him. “I haven’t always had much to laugh at.”

He started to wash again while elevating one
eyebrow. “I guess we’ll have to change that then.”

Jubilee found herself smiling as quivers
shimmied down her arms.

* * *

“That the sampler Sarah made?” Rafe stood in
front of the fireplace the following night, peering up at the frame
while Jubilee finished mashing the potatoes.

“Uh-huh.”

“Sorta’ve a strange verse. But I like your
name in it.”

Her gaze flicked to the frame. “Me, too. I’m
not sure what it means, but I enjoy the words, nonetheless.”

She placed the potato bowl on the table next
to the fried steak and corn bread.

Rafe turned and approached the table. “It’s
about God’s people, the Israelites, getting back all their
possessions and family homes during the year of Jubilee.”

They sat and Rafe put out his hands to clasp
hers for prayer. His huge fingers closed about hers, and she tried
to concentrate on the rumble of his voice instead of the rasp of
his work-roughened skin.

“Did the people sell their things or lose
them?” Jubilee asked as she passed him the potatoes.

He chewed his bread, letting his eyes roam
the far wall in thought. “Well, the way I understand, folks would
come on hard times, and they’d sell things to make ends meet.
Sometimes they would even sell themselves. But at the end of fifty
years, everything was restored.”

“Huh. Since it’s 1850, I suppose this would
be a year of Jubilee, then.”

He smiled. “I reckon.”

Her eyes grew serious. “If you could restore
something, what would it be?”

His fork paused in mid-air and he searched
her eyes. “I’d restore you.”

She caught her breath and dropped her gaze.
“That’s very kind.”

He put down the utensil and reached into his
pocket, then pushed a white envelope across the table. “Maybe this
will help a bit.”

Sitting up straight, she glanced from him to
the letter. The Orphan Society’s address was clear on the left
corner. Her eyes returned to his and her mouth dropped in
surprise.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

A trembling took a hold of her as she wiped
her hands on the napkin. “Oh, I can’t. You read it.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, the fluttering in her stomach
all but making her sick. With a grin, he tore the back flap of the
envelope and slid out a single sheet of paper. His eyes flicked
over the contents then settled on hers. An ominous sensation
tumbled in her stomach.

“Is it bad news?”

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should
read the letter aloud.

Dear Mrs. Tanner,

’
Tis with regret that we decline to send
the file for Miss Jubilee Charlotte Dupree. Miss Dupree, bound out
to Mrs. Gertrude Galston for the purpose of household chores and
sundry duties, failed to complete the set time of service.
Therefore, the Board of the Orphan Society of Philadelphia decrees
that Miss Dupree, and/or Mrs. Rafe Tanner, return and fulfill her
indentureship, or forward financial restitution for release from
this contract. Please reply in regard to Miss Dupree/Mrs. Tanner’s
reimbursement of said obligation.

Cordially,

The Board of the Orphan Society,

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.”

Rafe raised his eyes to Jubilee. Her face
had lost all color and her mouth hung open. He shot to his feet,
sure she’d tumble from her bench, and strode to the other side of
the table. Settling next to her, he realized she hadn’t moved one
whit. When she spoke, he barely recognized the hoarse whisper.

“I have to go back.”

“You’re not going to Philadelphia,” Rafe
said in a firm voice.

Jubilee turned her face to his. “I need some
air.”

She jumped up and scurried to the back door,
Rafe following her.

“Listen to me. I’ll work the situation out.
There’s no reason for you to return to be someone’s servant.
Jubilee?”

But she kept on walking faster past the
outhouse
. Great, my courtship plan was right on track.
He
rubbed his face with his hand and hiked up his britches. Déjà vu
swept over him as she hurried through the field to the tree
line.

He parked his fists in his pockets and
watched until she disappeared into the woods and fingered the other
letter he’d received. All the anxiousness to share his mother’s
news with Jubilee had evaporated.

In his head, he’d visualized the whole
after-dinner scene, with them both smiling and laughing over his
mother’s stories of the family’s exploits. They would’ve retired to
the swing and, there in the moonlight, he’d have moved closer, and
wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He’d have leaned in
and…
nuts.
He brought his thoughts to a stop.

He stomped to the barn, frustration in each
step. As much as he hated Everett’s intrusions in his life, he
would’ve given anything to be able to walk to his house, plop in
his chair, and seek his advice on this love thing. It’d been hard
to watch the shore of his hometown drift away that day on the
departing steamer, knowing his family would be out of reach for a
very long time. And right now, he needed them.

Once he reached his cot in the barn, he
pulled out the letter and tossed it on the nearby crate where he
kept a lantern and matches. He stared at the crumpled envelope for
a few minutes. There had to be something he could do.

His head came up. Hadn’t his mother
mentioned Loyal and his wife taking a trip? Grabbing the letter, he
scanned down to the phrase. How had he forgotten that Elizabeth’s
family lived in Philadelphia?

He grinned and pulled up a chair. There was
more than one way to skin a cat. Rummaging through his few
possessions, he quickly located a piece of plain white paper. He
dipped his quill in the inkwell and began, ‘Dear Loyal.’

* * *

Rafe turned the bedframe upright to maneuver
it through the barn door. Sticking his head out, his gaze glided to
the northern tree line. It was nearing dusk, and Jubilee hadn’t yet
returned. He sighed, then whispered a prayer for her before turning
and hauling the frame to the door of the cabin.

It was quite a task wrestling the awkward
piece of furniture through the small cabin door, but he managed to
squeeze it in. He hoped Jubilee liked it.

Once he settled it into the corner, he
tightened the ropes with the rope key and lost no time arranging
the straw tick on top. He grabbed the quilt then froze. It was the
double wedding-ring quilt they’d received from his home church.