Year of Jubilee (23 page)

Ever since the visit with the Larsson’s last
week, Jubilee had closed up like a corn plant in a drought. He’d
suggested taking a walk, sitting in the swing, going for a wagon
ride, but nothing seemed to penetrate the fortress she’d built. She
shooed him out of the cabin or made some excuse to hurry to the
garden to finish the harvesting and the canning. And if he dared to
suggest his assistance, she turned all red and puffed up like an
old hen.

“I just don’t get it,” Rafe muttered to
himself.

“Yah, Rafe. You talk to birds now?”

He swung around and there sat a smirking
Ivan, up on his big bay. “They give answerings to yourself too, my
friend?”

Rafe shook his head, a half-smile crossing
his face as he waded to the edge of the creek and scaled the bank.
“Little good those blackbirds do. They never have helpful
advice.”

Ivan chuckled before his eyes grew serious.
“You have problem?”

Rafe snorted. “Yes and no.”

“Ah.” Ivan tilted his head back in
understanding. “Dat sound like vimen trouble, no?”

Rafe ran a hand through his damp hair. The
man may have a limited grasp of the English language, but he
certainly understood the universal confusion over a woman’s
behavior.

“Sorry—fix things. You say ‘sorry.’” Ivan
encouraged him with a gentle smile.

“I wish it were that simple.” Rafe walked
over, untied his horse from the yellow poplar sapling, and led him
back to the travois he’d made to carry his tools.

“I help?” Ivan swung down from his horse,
and the two of them collected the scattered implements. “I mean,
with wife.”

Rafe let one side of his mouth curl up in an
attempt to smile. “Naw. I gotta settle this on my own. You could
pray, though.”

“Oh, yah. I and Elsa pray. Talk good to God
in Svedish.”

Once the tools were loaded, Rafe turned to
his friend. “What brings you this way?”

“Franz Schlater got trouble. It rain like
dogs. Roof cry. Franz climb roof to fix. He fall. He break arm.
Need help. You help?”

Rafe tipped his head back and shifted his
weight to his right foot. “Is that old coot your neighbor on the
east side of you?”

Ivan nodded his blond head. “Yah, yah. He
old…what you say? Coot. He need da Lord. We help him and he see.
Okay?”

“Sure, why not?” Rafe wouldn’t miss anything
at the cabin with Jubilee avoiding him like a cholera epidemic. He
gave a chuckle as he pulled himself aboard Horse. “It’s the least I
can do. Can’t have Old Coot Franz with a crying roof.”

* * *

Jubilee paced, twiddling the sapphire ring
around her finger on her left hand as she waited for the beef stew
to boil. She paused to gaze up at Sarah’s sampler. Being restored
to a family seemed farther away than ever. She reached up to remove
the offending verse but hesitated. With her eyes closed, she
summoned the memory of Sarah’s happy face, her eyes moist with
tears as she presented the handmade craft to her. Jubilee brought
her hands to her sides and formed them into fists. Elsa once told
her God never broke his promises. Could she be right?

The sound of the bubbling stew startled her
thoughts to the present. She hurried back to the stove and snatched
up the spoon. Burning dinner certainly wouldn’t benefit anyone.
Rafe could arrive at any minute. Right now she had to concentrate
on getting through a meal with him.

* * *

Jubilee could barely swallow the last bite
of stew. Rafe’s eyes hardly left her face during the entire dinner.
She was as jumpy as a grasshopper on school grounds full of
insect-loving children. The apology she’d intended to give him long
ago hung in the air and became a huge cloud that filled the room.
She pressed her hand to her stomach and closed her eyes for a
moment. But the weight of her unspoken apology was nothing compared
to her longing for a child, for a real family.

“I…ah, agreed to help Ivan work on old man
Franz Schlater’s house tonight.” Rafe said.

Jubilee nodded and kept her gaze focused on
her empty bowl.

“He fell off the roof and broke his arm.
Ivan’s got several men lined up to hammer down some shingles and to
help him get the rest of his harvest in over the next week or two.
That is—unless you need something.”

Jubilee chewed her lip, glad he’d be away in
the evenings. No, not glad—relieved. She sighed. If his absence
were so liberating, why did she feel so gloomy at the thought of
his absence?

“Uh…no. That’s fine.” Did he notice she
hadn’t mentioned going back to Philadelphia to fulfill her
obligation? Had he realized she hadn’t stepped into the woods since
the day he’d commanded her not to? Maybe no apology was needed.

Rafe rose and Jubilee flinched. He strolled
to the dry sink, already filled with sudsy water, and washed his
plate. When he’d finished, he turned to her. “There’s something
else. I wanted to wait and give this to you after we ate. One
matter or another has come up to interrupt our meals. Hope you
don’t mind I waited.”

He approached and pulled a white envelope
from his pocket and extended it to her.

Puzzled, she put her hand out as if
accepting a poisonous viper. After shifting her gaze from his
unreadable one to the address on the envelope, she gave a gasp. It
was from the Orphan’s Society.

“How?” was all she could mutter.

He shrugged, his eyes warming. “My brother.
Go ahead, open it.”

She swallowed a lump of emotion and held the
letter in midair and stared at it. Suddenly it seemed hard to
breathe. “I can’t. Would you?”

He blinked at her a few moments before
reaching for the envelope. Wasting no time, he pulled his
pocketknife out and made a quick slicing motion across the top. He
removed two white pages and flicked his gaze to her before settling
on the first page. His eyes moved back and forth a moment then
looked at her. He cleared his throat. “It says,

Dear Mrs. Jubilee Tanner,

With much gratitude to your brother-in-law,
Loyal Tanner, the matter concerning your indenture to Mrs. Galston
has been resolved. We apologize for any inconvenience this might
have caused you. We also thank you for the large donation in your
and your husband’s name.

Unfortunately, we possess few details about
your family, but the standard form filled out by a friend of your
birth mother reveals basic family information. We, of course, would
encourage and appreciate any further monetary gifts to assist in
our mission as we strive to undertake the duty of providing for the
orphans of Philadelphia. May this find you in good health.

Cordially,

The Orphan Society of Philadelphia.”

Rafe pulled a separate sheet of paper from
behind the letter. He scanned the document before handing it to
her. “You need to see this.”

She puckered her brow, while her mind raced.
“Rafe, how much do I owe your brother?”

“Later.” He motioned for her to take the
paper.

“I must know. I’m going to pay him.” Though
by what means was beyond her.

“Jubilee, Loyal took care of the problem as
our wedding gift. Now would you please look at this form?”

Pursing her lips in disapproval, she fixed
her gaze on the document. A quiver shot through her. There, in
front of her, were her father’s and mother’s names. And a
sibling.

She shot up, her voice in awe. “My mother’s
name was Margaret.”

Jubilee began to pace from front door to
back, her eyes eagerly devouring the information. “Margaret
Charlotte Dupree.”

Stopping short, she looked up at Rafe.
“That’s my middle name. I was named for my mother.”

She glanced down again and resumed pacing.
“My father’s name was Latham Lee Dupree, and I had a brother who
died at delivery. My mother…” her throat closed and tears wet her
cheeks, “…died giving birth. My father died several months before,
of tuberculosis.”

Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m
sorry, Jubilee.”

She gave him a weak smile and whispered,
“I’m not. I knew they were gone. But this proves my parents were
real live people. I really had a family. And now I know their
names.”

Without a word he moved towards her and she
flung her arms around him. Rafe held her close and stroked her
hair. Joy soared in her breast. “Thank you so much.”

His warmth spread through her like an aloe
salve on a burn, weakening her resolve not let him get near. A
knock sounded on the door and she sprang from him. His gaze clung
to hers, and she took a slow breath to ease the trembling in her
body. She couldn’t pull her eyes from the intenseness of his green
ones. The knock came again.

“You should answer it.” She kept her voice
even as her emotions heaved.

Rafe turned with a quiet growl and strode to
the door.

Ivan stood at the door, a huge grin on his
face that faded a bit as he glanced from Jubilee to Rafe. “You no
come?”

Rafe cleared his throat and looked at her.
“I’m not sure.”

She wanted to beg him to stay, to share this
discovery with him and lean on his strength. But Jubilee pulled her
gaze from his and shook her head with haste. “No. You go right
ahead with your plans. I’m fine, really.”

Her eyes lifted and witnessed what seemed
like reluctance cross Rafe’s face.

He nodded, but kept his eyes on Jubilee.
“All right.”

Jubilee turned toward the back door and
walked into the shadows of the house. The silence stretched.

“Rafe?” Ivan’s voice was quiet with a touch
of concern.

“Yeah…let me get my tools from the
barn.”

Jubilee stood with her back to the door
until she heard the latch click. New tears spilled from her eyes.
She didn’t have Rafe. Or a child. But she held a document that
proved she had been part of a loving family. And at this point,
that was all she had.

* * *

Rafe pounded the nail into the shake just a
bit too hard and split it right down the middle. His frustration at
having to leave Jubilee in such a vulnerable state ate at him.
Franz Schlater jumped from his rickety chair beneath the scraggy
cherry tree and stalked his bent-over form to the edge of the
roof.

“Ya done ruined another one. Don’t you boys
know nothin?” The old man swore. “I’d do better than that with this
one broken arm.”

Rafe settled back on his haunches on the
slant of the gable and gritted his teeth while the four other men
continued to pound the new shakes in, one by one. Ivan, perched at
the top of the ladder, turned a toothy smile on him as he launched
a heavy load of shingles from his shoulder to the roof.

“This was a great idea, Ivan. Old man Franz
is eating up our help.”

“Eating up? No, no. No eating. He go church
next Sunday. He promise.”

Rafe grunted. He’d better, or Rafe would
prod him there with the pointed end of a broken shingle. He set his
fists on his thighs and turned his eyes toward home. What was
Jubilee doing? Had he finally shattered her wall of silence? Was
she lonely? Could she still be crying over her records from the
Society?

“You come to work, Tanner? Or daydream?”
Odie McFarlen ribbed with a streak of humor as he tossed a bent
nail at him.

The men sniggered and Rafe took a deep
breath, swiping his brow before he grabbed another shake. “Well, if
we all worked as hard as you, McFarlen, we’d be here till
spring.”

More laughter danced across the rooftop.
Everyone knew Odie was right fond of keeping the water bucket
company. Ivan reared back and started a tune, his English improving
greatly as he followed a familiar church hymn. Several of them
joined in, but Rafe settled into his sour mood that increased the
speed of his hammer.

’Twas nigh on ten o’clock by the time Rafe
urged Horse into the clearing in front his homestead. The cabin was
dark, which put him in an even blacker mood. The porch swing hung
neglected and silent in the moonlight. He supposed Jubilee sat in
it from time to time to snap beans or cut apples for applesauce,
but there sure wasn’t any romancing going on in that seat.

In front of the barn, he swung down from the
saddle, groaning at the ache in his knees. The crickets chirruped
through the soft, dark night and a gentle breeze caressed his skin,
but the glory of the evening was lost to him, for all he could
think of was a delicate, dark-haired beauty.

He closed his eyes and remembered the sweet
lilac scent of her neck, the vibrancy of her small body that fit so
well against his. The ache in his heart far surpassed the pain in
his knees. Rafe lifted his head and ran his gaze across the
spattering of stars. In a whisper, he sent a prayer heavenward.

* * *

She dried the last of the onions and garlic
from the beams of the cabin and plucked the remaining apples and
peaches from the trees. With Rafe helping Ivan over at the Schlater
place, she’d begun leaving food for him in his room in the
barn.

He’d be in late again tonight, so Jubilee
prepared some jerky, leftover fried chicken, a couple of apples,
and some bread and cheese. As she swung through the door that
separated Rafe’s private room from the rest of the huge barn,
toting her food basket covered with cheesecloth, she noticed his
Bible on his bed. He often left it there, yet today a folded paper
with an envelope lay across the cover of his Bible.

Rafe hadn’t mentioned receiving any mail
but, then again, they really hadn’t been talking. As if she were
drawn by a string, she moved toward the bed and picked up the page.
Her heart nearly died when she saw the author of the letter.
Rosemary
.

With a strangled cry, Jubilee plunked on the
bed, her eyes scanning the words. The letter was dated a few weeks
back. Rafe’s basket of food thumped to the floor.

My Dearest Rafe,

It was so refreshing to see you this summer,
and I won’t deny my life has become a bit gray without your
presence. The thought has brought me, many times, to a place of
solitude to ponder a number of things. Although I’m aware this
letter is so very improper, I can’t bear the thought of not penning
a few lines to you.