Year of Jubilee (21 page)

Esther smiled. “Love ain’t feelings and
fuzzy stuff, hon. That’s just some nice extras. It’s something you
do. Does he do things for you? Take care of you? These are what you
oughta think on.”

Jubilee sighed. “I wish it were so
simple.”

“Perhaps it is.”

Jubilee blinked. “What can I do to show love
to him?”

“Same thing. A little hand holding and such
don’t hurt none either.”

Jubilee shook her hands in frustration. “You
don’t understand, Miss Esther.”

The older woman sat back and swept her gaze
across the blue sky. “I understand you married a near stranger and
getting to know each other will take time.”

Jubilee gasped. She was clever.

Esther turned her weathered blue eyes on her
with boldness. “Do you love him?” A chuckle stopped Jubilee’s
reply. “You don’t have to say the words. I see the answer on your
face. Take some advice from an old lady who’s been married near on
forever. The Bible says to make friends you have to be friendly. I
expect the same works for love.”

“You have to be friendly to get love?”
Bewildered, she jerked her head, her eyes wide.

Soft laughter flowed from Esther, and a lock
of her white hair tossed in the breeze. “Oh, child. You’re a
delight. I reckon being friendly won’t hurt. But showing love may
lead to love.”

She swallowed. “Doing what they want is
love, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Jubilee.”

Jubilee shot up. “I need to go.”

Esther rose and embraced Jubilee. “Now you
walk up to your man, that fine man, and show him all the love in
your heart.”

Jubilee gave a slow grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

The trip home went much slower. Jubilee
noticed each part of the landscape while contemplating Esther’s
words. She caressed the cerulean bachelors’ buttons growing along
the path and swept her chin high to take in the expanse of blue sky
emulating the awesome glory of God.
Eternal, infinite,
indescribable
.

Why had she gotten so angry with Rafe? Such
a complete foreign emotion to Jubilee. She’d learned very young
that life went much smoother with simple acceptance. Humble
obedience. Even with Colvin, she’d never experienced anger. Fear,
yes, but never anger.

She strolled toward a pink wild-rose bush
and paused to pluck a petal. As she marveled at the exquisite
softness in a seemingly insignificant piece of creation, she also
pondered something Rafe had said in New Albany. Perhaps the Lord
had
protected her from the very beginning.

The red maple branches beckoned to her from
above and she reached to pick one, fingering the delicate leathery
leaf. Life hadn’t been easy. Without a family, working hard each
day to satisfy the Society’s demands had been her lot. Another had
been church attendance. She’d awakened to the call of God at the
young age of eleven.

She stopped. The memory rushed upon her.
Pastor Reeker had left the church a few months earlier. She, in all
her childishness, had assumed pastors were comparable to the rigid
reverend, old, bald and fat, screaming about God’s punishments and
judgments.

Then like a dream, Pastor Sheffield had
arrived, fresh, eager, kind and, to young Jubilee’s mind, extremely
handsome. The drudgery of church attendance had flown. He’d talked
of God’s love, forgiveness, and renewal. With a glad heart, she’d
gone forward to express a desire to be part of such a powerful
legacy.

Though what stuck in her mind was not God’s
great mercy, but Pastor Sheffield’s sparkling eyes, earnest upon
her confession. She and her best friend, Ellen, had whispered
dreamily about the encounter for months afterward. In time Jubilee
had outgrown her childhood crush and, in the process, she’d
absorbed the reality of what God had done for her.

There’d been many times Jubilee wished she
could have questioned the good pastor. He’d talked so much about
serving God and living the abundant life, yet she wondered how to
accomplish that. Then Colvin happened and everything went awry.

Or had it?
She caught her breath.
Surely she’d certainly not wish to experience those days again.
She’d never once thought those trying times would make her
stronger, yet she knew they had. Through her survival, she’d gained
an extra dimension to her character, an extra appreciation of
Christ’s suffering. And with Rafe’s kindness, a healing confidence
grew within her.

I ordered him out of the cabin.
A
cringe rippled through her. It’d been his tone, his commands. Yet
everything he said made sense. She didn’t want to return to
Philadelphia, although how she could avoid this was beyond her. The
sighting of the cougar had scared the wits out of her, so avoiding
the woods seemed wise. And thirdly…oh, my, she hadn’t waited to
hear him out. She let out a frustrated breath, threw the leaf down,
and plopped on the soft grass.

The tall weeds around her put her in
seclusion from the world, and only the sky peeped in. What did she
really want?
Truly?
It was time to be a mature person and
make a goal of some kind. She’d been swept along by circumstance
forever, and now she needed to make a decision.

She leaned back until the grass pillowed her
head. She tapped her lip, contemplating the sky. If she could have
anything—anything at all—what would it be?

Rafe.

The tapping stopped. Yes, definitely Rafe.
But…another thought collided. Did Rafe even want her? As an
orphaned widow, she had little to offer. Yet Esther had claimed he
harbored love for her. Was this possible?

Wait. She brushed away an insect. Wasn’t
this about doing what God wanted? Jubilee covered her eyes with her
hands and sat up. God, I can’t solve this. Esther says I should
look to you to know what to do. I need help, Lord. I don’t know
which way to turn.

The heat became oppressive in her little
weed burrow, so she stood to catch a breeze and meandered toward
the shade of the maple. The fact remained, she loved Rafe. She
loved
him. Simple as that. And she was his wife.

She took a deep breath. Time for her to
apologize. She shouldn’t have ordered him out of his cabin, and she
should’ve honored his requests, well…commands. So she’d take
Esther’s advice and be…
friendly.

The cabin was quiet when she returned. Rafe
must be in the fields. She sighed. As much as she wanted this
settled right now, she had work to do. There were plump green beans
waiting in the garden to be picked, snapped and canned. Four
buckets of blackberries and raspberries rested on the table,
needing to be washed and separated for making jelly with Elsa
tomorrow. The bread needed to be baked, and this morning’s milk
needed to be churned into butter. Resolution would have to wait
until this evening.

* * *

Rafe chucked the hoe harder than necessary
to uproot the weed from the corn row. It was backbreaking work, but
his mind was a spin. Had he actually come at Jubilee like some
wild, lowing bull demanding this and that? He grunted. Yes, he most
certainly had. Again, not a great tactic to entice the woman’s
affections.

He had no business commanding her in such a
way. The woman was free to return to Philadelphia if she so
desired, as much as the idea raised his hackles to admit it. Of
course, the cougar spawned a whole other problem. He hoped, at
least, she’d heed him on that point, cutting a glance at the
shotgun resting in the row behind him.

He paused and jerked his head to the left to
work out a kink in his neck.
Okay
. Back to plan one. He
hadn’t buried himself—yet. He’d apologize. Then hope the woman
would listen to his third request.

* * *

Later in the evening, Rafe and Jubilee
finished supper as always. Neither spoke. The atmosphere in the
cabin was oppressive. As if they sat within a huge animal trap
waiting for the tripwire to snap, the metal claws shut at any
moment. This apologizing thing was more difficult than she could’ve
imagined.

He cleared his throat. “Let’s sit in the
swing.”

Finally—words.
Jubilee’s tension
eased a bit. “Okay.”

She took a deep breath as they both rose,
and Rafe held the door for her. Sweeping the crumbs from her dress,
she tried to amble past him with a false calm.

Settling into the seat, she mused how much
more comfortable it was to talk as they worked side by side, or
when the lights had been off at his parents’ house. Conversing
seemed plain awkward just sitting. Her body tensed as he lowered
himself next to her.

“The garden looks good,” he commented,
crossing his arms across his chest.

“Thanks,” she replied, fearing the small
talk made it glaringly obvious they sat together like a real
married couple.

“The corn’s sprouting several ears on each
plant.”

“Well, that’s good.” She cleared her throat
and tried to relax.
Apologize to the man.

“I’m working on a pair of rockers for the
porch,” he said, bringing his hands down.

“Oh? A few chairs would be nice,” she
replied, breathless as his fingers brushed her leg.

“Figured on going in to town next week. The
barn needs a little more paint and the house must be re-chinked in
some areas.”

“I see.”

“You wanta ride along? Maybe we could stop
and eat at Millie’s,” he said, rubbing his hands back and forth on
his legs.

“Yeah, sure.”

Suddenly his right arm came up and over her
and rested on the swing behind her, his fingers leaving a flaming
spot on her shoulder.
Friendly, friendly, friendly.
The
words beat into her brain, and her apology went sailing.

“Listen, Jubilee. I got carried away this
morning.” He paused and Jubilee stared straight ahead, ever
conscious of his arm, hot as flames, across her shoulders. “I think
I made a fool of myself, demanding things from you. I had no right
to do that.”

“Uh huh.” Witty comeback.

“I want you to know I’ve sent a letter to
Loyal, my brother, who lives in Ohio. He’s taking a trip to
Philadelphia soon to visit his in-laws. I’ve asked him to check
into the problem.”

His hand caressed her upper arm.

“Oh.” Her voice squeaked.

“I probably should’ve gotten your
permission, but I’m hoping we can solve this matter without you
having to return to Philadelphia. I mean, if that’s what you
want.”

His other hand grasped hers and she caught
her breath. Turning her head, her eyes collided with his green
ones. “Is that all right with you, Jubilee?”

“I…” Where had her ability to speak gone?
Her heart hammered. No thought of apology crossed her mind. Warm
rushes of sweet emotion washed over her as he leaned forward. Her
breath slowed. His eyes grew hooded.

“Jubilee?”

His voice hit her like a gust of icy wind.
She jerked to a standing position.

“I’ve got,” she couldn’t look at him,
“dishes…uh…to do.” Her pulse pounded.
That took forever to
say.

He stood, ramming his hands into his
pockets.

“All right,” he said, his voice flat, “I’ll
help.”

“No!” Who’d screamed? Oh my, it was her. She
backed to the door. “You, uh….can work on the rockers.”

She glanced at him and the disappointment on
his face was obvious.

He nodded his head.

“Sure, whatever,” he said shortly and took
both stairs in one step and strode for the barn.

She crept into the cabin and peeked at him
from the window. Oh, good gracious. What was wrong with her? She
leaned back against the door while tears rushed to her eyes, and
she pressed her hand to her throat. Why? Couldn’t she sit there and
chat with the man? Why hadn’t she apologized? Every word seemed
glued in her throat.

An overwhelming sense of attraction for Rafe
filled her senses, yet she battled even allowing his arm to rest
along her back, or him to steal a small kiss. She trembled and
covered her face with her hands. Her heart squeezed in agony. Were
they still just business partners? She didn’t want to be. It
certainly didn’t feel that way in her heart.

How did this whole relationship thing work?
She swallowed. Why couldn’t she sit and face what followed? Colvin,
that’s why. A wave of nausea swept through her. If what Colvin had
done to her was the way of a man with a woman, she wanted no part
of such a liaison.

Tears splashed to her cheeks. Developing a
relationship with Rafe proved too chancy. What if the attempt
didn’t work? Would she be just a stand-in for Rosemary? Ugh. That
would be the limit.

Perhaps Rafe’s idea of a real marriage
wasn’t much removed from Colvin’s? Yes, Rafe was good and kind and
he’d stuck by his promise. Yet…this physical matter was very
frightening.

She couldn’t visualize talking to Miss
Esther about such things. Her mind flicked to Elsa. She certainly
seemed to be very much in love with Ivan. They’d no doubt
consummated their marriage. If this joining were so terrible, could
Elsa look to her husband with such deep devotion and respect? Her
face grew hotter as she contemplated her thoughts. However, she
had
to know. With a deep breath, she resolved somehow to
talk with Elsa about it.
Somehow.

Rafe beat himself up all the way to the
barn.
I’m an idiot. A royal idiot.
Why had he pushed
intimacy so quickly? Because he was an idiot. He gave an audible
growl. Of course the woman was jumpy. She’d been married to his
cruel cousin.

He entered the shadowed barn and began to
pace, trying to figure a reason to be knocking at the cabin door.
After swiping an impatient hand across his neck, he grabbed up the
rocker and set it on the low bench before reaching for the planer.
He was going to be an expert furniture maker if this kept up.

He ran the tool down the side of the
armrest. Wooing Rosemary hadn’t been a problem for him, but he’d
been much younger and he’d viewed it more as a game. A challenge.
She’d been a prize of sorts. A prickly prize. He smiled as his mind
likened Rosemary to a cactus.