Year of Jubilee (27 page)

Quickly he returned to the barn and saddled
up his horse with great haste. He pulled the gun from where it hung
over his bed in the barn, then collected the quilt from the floor
of the cabin. Wasting no time, he swung up in the saddle and kicked
the horse to a full gallop toward the trees.

He first rode through the woods, calling her
name. How many places might a person hide in such a desolate place?
He meandered amongst the frozen undergrowth and soon reached the
creek, swollen from the rains last week. He drew Horse to a stop
and turned around in the saddle, searching the dreary winter
landscape. Already, snow clung to every surface.

The river’s current was strong, and the
water cold and muddy, overflowing its banks. A large tree branch
and other debris moved at a good clip with the murky flow. Yet,
even with the great volume of liquid that chugged by, not a sound
could be heard. The birds, as well, had vanished with their songs,
and the calm seemed—
deadly
. He shuddered and searched the
shores.

“Oh, Lord,” he muttered aloud, “keep her
safe and let me find her.”

With one last glance, he wheeled his horse
back to the tree line. She
had
to be in the woods. As they
moved, slowly but steadily, his eyes combed the snowy landscape.
How long had she been gone? He looked up into the spikes of the
falling snow, the wind whipping the collar of his thick duster. The
storm approached white-out. He recalled her cape, hanging on the
peg near the door of the cabin. Pushing the disturbing thought
away, he stopped at each fallen trunk or snowy glob of thick bushes
and thickets. Puffs of frozen air huffed from his lungs.

God. Help me.

With a heavy sigh, he headed due east and
happened to glance up where the weak light of the sun through the
dreary morning clouds lightened the tops of the trees. His throat
constricted and his heart seemed to stop dead in his chest. Thirty
feet from the ground she hung by one hand, the only thing that kept
her from catapulting to the ground.

Her whole body swayed away from the trunk in
the stiff breeze, her left arm drooping lifelessly. And although
she was still seated, her legs dangled, motionless. He kicked the
horse violently, urging immediate response. He had to get to her
before she let go.

At that moment, a movement from the right
sent Horse screaming and lunging away. A sleek, golden cougar
sprang from a tree branch and swiped a razor-sharp claw at the
horse’s neck. The animal’s awful odor filled the air as the cat
bounded up the pin oak where Jubilee hung.

Horse skittered to the side while Rafe
tightened his legs around the frightened animal and eased the gun
from the scabbard. Blood pulsated through Rafe’s body. Hunched on a
low, thick branch, the cougar pulled back the whiskers of his lips
and screeched, displaying a mouth full of incisors big as
knives.

“Whoa,” he muttered, trying to calm the
horse but keeping his eyes fastened on the huge feline.

The cougar bunched his muscles, kneading the
bark, preparing to leap. The eyes were like yellow, ethereal pools
shimmering in the grey light. Rafe cocked his gun, and the cougar
spat and spun before grabbing the trunk with its front paws to
ascend. After leveling his gun, he fired. A miss sent the cat
skittering higher up the tree.

Taking big gulps of air, Rafe fumbled with
the bullet as he set it in the chamber. Huge snowflakes blurred his
line of vision. The cat let out a scream as it settled on a high
branch, pawing at the fabric of Jubilee’s skirt. Rafe’s heart went
to his throat. How could he aim at it now?

Like a horrible nightmare, Jubilee’s right
arm relaxed and her body fell backward. The cougar flinched and
shot out its paws, batting in a rage at the billowing skirt.
Jubilee’s legs flipped up and gave up the seat in the tree. She
began free-falling like a rag doll, and each branch she struck bent
and spun her body.

The sickening sounds of twigs snapping and
crashing sent Rafe’s heels into Horse’s flanks. They swooped under
the tree and she landed across his lap with a terrible thump. She
groaned on impact, and Rafe clutched her with all his strength. But
he couldn’t lose sight of the cat bounding down the tree branches
after her. The golden terror gained the lowest branch and,
gathering the power in its sinewy haunches, gave a tremendous leap
towards them.

Eyes white, Horse shrieked and lurched
sideways, quivering and dancing. Rafe tugged on the rein to spin
him, bringing up the rifle that exploded in a horrifying roar,
felling the cougar and redirecting its body in a backward motion.
The cat fell against the foot of the tree, twitching and writhing.
After thrusting in another cartridge, Rafe fired at him again, and
the cougar grew still.

He quickly reined in the horse, pulled the
blanket from his pack, and spread it over Jubilee’s freezing body.
Dear God, she is so cold.
He brought up her head and wrapped
the quilt around her back, wondering at her injuries as he moved
her. After checking the cat for life one last time, Rafe gathered
her against him, then urged Horse toward the cabin, going as fast
as she could bear, and prayed over her lifeless body like nobody’s
business.

Gaining the back yard in mere minutes, he
threw his right foot over his mount’s head before Horse even
stopped and dismounted with her in his arms. He sprinted to the
cabin, cradling his precious load. He kicked the door open and laid
her on the mattress. He stacked blanket after blanket on her, then
pulled a warming brick from the fireplace with a poker and wrapped
it in wool, placing it next to her body under the blankets.

He looked around. What to do now? He had to
get a doctor fast, but he didn’t want to leave her
. Ivan.
He’d ride like the wind to Ivan and have him fetch the man. He went
to her bedside, but she was still unconscious. He laid his hand on
her forehead. Her skin was pale and chilled.

Decisively he turned to the door. He must
get help. There was no other way. He hurried out the back door,
making sure the door was secured, and prayed earnestly as he
boarded his restless horse once more. He tugged the reins and
directed the animal around the cabin and kicked him into a run down
the driveway.

He’d just turned right as he breasted the
row of trees toward town when he distinguished a whistle. Relief
washed over him. Ivan, aboard his mount, approached from the north.
He whispered a grateful prayer to the Lord and pulled his horse
around to gallop to Ivan.

He called to him through the heavy curtain
of snow as he came to a sliding stop. “Ivan. Thank God. Jubilee
needs a doctor.” He jerked on the reins to guide his horse back
towards the cabin. “And hurry,” he yelled as he was off again.

He glanced behind him long enough to see
Ivan shoot toward town before the trees blocked his view. Quickly
he shut the horse into the barn to give it some shelter in the
freezing weather. Rafe ran through the snowflakes that had picked
up again with a vengeance and Rafe sent up a quick prayer for Ivan
and the doctor.

He went in and tended to the fireplace to
warm up the room as much as possible and checked on Jubilee. Terror
sliced through him when he discovered several lumps on her head as
he probed for injuries but, other than a few scrapes and bruises,
there wasn’t a great deal of blood. At least the cougar hadn’t
injured her. He made himself settle on the chair next to her bed
instead of pace. All he could do now was pray.

It seemed an eternity until Ivan brought the
doctor. He offered to take care of the horse in the barn while Rafe
waited for the doctor to check her. Doc was an older man, slightly
balding, with spectacles. His face looked grim as he returned to
Rafe, who stood beside the table. He removed his glasses and stuck
them in his pocket.

“Well, hypothermia won’t be what does her
in,” he began.

“Huh?” Rafe demanded, alarmed.

The doctor held up his arthritic hands.
“Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions. I meant she seems to have
survived the cold fairly well. It’s the head injuries and the
internal injuries I can’t be sure of.”

Doc took a deep breath. “She has four
separate knots to her head, bruising along her right ribs, and a
long bruise forming across her back.” He clicked his tongue. “I’d
say she’s probably got herself a concussion, some broken ribs, and
a possible spinal injury. But that’s just an educated guess, son. I
can’t know the extent of those injuries until she wakes up
,
if
she wakes up.” He mumbled the last words, but Rafe heard
them.

“What can be done?” he asked hoarsely.

Doc shook his head. “Not much, and that’s
for sure. I’ll wrap her ribs the best I can without jostling her.
There’s no way of knowing the extent of damage she has to her back,
so there’s no sense in moving her a lot. I’ll give you some
headache powder ’cause if she wakes, she’s sure to have one
humdinger of a headache.”

Rafe’s blood ran cold. He pushed a shaky
hand through his hair.

“Best stay by her so you’ll know when she
rouses. She needs to drink as much liquid as she can, and start her
on some broth or such once she’s able.” After laying out the
bandages he intended to use and setting out the headache powder, he
snapped his black bag shut. “That’s about all that can be
done.”

Rafe sat heavily on the bench at the table
and watched as the doctor wrapped her ribs. A numbness spread
through him as Doc checked her eyes once more. The older man
returned to the table to grab his bag before he pulled his coat
down from the peg by the door and shrugged it on.

“I’ll be by in the morning,” he assured Rafe
before seeing himself out.

Rafe stood and took up vigil by her bedside.
Ivan came in an hour later to see if there was anything else he
could do, and all Rafe could do was shake his head. Ivan assured
him that he and Elsa would be praying, and that he’d stop by the
following day.

After he left, the cabin became so still and
hot. He reached up and smoothed the hair from her forehead.
Dear
Lord, why was the woman in that tree?
He parked his elbows on
his knees and leaned his face into his hands. And he prayed. He
prayed with all his might, well into the night. And somewhere
toward dawn, he laid his head against the mattress and fell
asleep.

Rafe gave a startled jerk and woke himself.
He was bent over with his head pillowed on the bed.
What
awakened me?
Something stirred his hair. He jerked his head
upright and met Jubilee’s dark gaze, dull with pain, her hand
resting near where his head had been. Moisture filled his eyes, and
he broke into a slight grin.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

She blinked slowly and licked her lips.

“Here, let me get you a drink.”

He scrambled around the room, searching out
a glass and the water bucket. She sipped the water as he supported
her head.

“How are you feeling?” He set the cup down
on the small table near the bed.

She swallowed and shut her eyes for a
moment, and Rafe feared she’d gone back to sleep. But then her
eyelids fluttered open.

“I…hurt...” Her voice rasped.

“Where?” He clutched her hand.

A flash of pain shot across her face.
“Everywhere.”

Rafe nodded. “Doc said you had several
bruises and bumps to the head. I can give you some of Doc’s
headache medicine.”

She closed her eyes once more and answered
without opening them. “No…just…too…tired.”

Her expression relaxed, and he thought she’d
drifted off to sleep, until she mumbled in nearly unintelligible
words. “The snow was…pretty.”

A sad smile quirked across Rafe’s mouth. He
longed to draw her up and hold her until the hurt went away, but he
knew he’d best leave her to rest. He leaned back in the chair,
thanking God she’d awakened. He closed his eyes and tried to get
comfortable, a warm rush of relief seeping through his body. He’d
need his rest so he’d be alert when she revived again.

But it was Ivan who woke him next. His
friend took care of the morning chores in the barn. At the door of
the cabin, Rafe realized in the clear, cold of the early dawn that
six inches of snow covered the landscape. Doc Adams showed up
thirty minutes later in a sleigh and, to Rafe’s relief, Jubilee’s
eyes opened for the second time. He hovered close by as Doc leaned
to examine her and to ask several questions. Finally, Doc stood and
fixed his gaze on his patient.

“Well, little lady, you’ve got a concussion
and a couple of broken ribs, not to mention bumps and bruises here
and there, that are bound to be sore for several weeks. You need to
stay in bed for at least the next week or two. Get up and stretch a
bit when you can. Bending over will probably be painful, so my
advice is, if it hurts, don’t do it. No lifting anything heavier
than a cup of milk.” He turned to Rafe. “I’ll leave you something
for the pain, and I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow.”

Doc walked to the table and Rafe stared at
Jubilee, who drifted off to sleep. The sound of the door opening
brought him out of his thoughts. He turned and darted out the door,
closing it with a soft click.

“Wait. What about her back, Doc?” Fear
sliced through him as ominous possibilities haunted his mind. Doc
set his black bag down on the sleigh’s seat before he answered.

“She feels her toes and can move her
extremities. All good signs everything’s fine. Since she’s
conscious this morning, I figured her injuries weren’t as serious
as what I initially thought. You baby her for several weeks,
because she’s in for some pain while she heals.”

Rafe nodded, his tightened muscles relaxing
a bit, and he waved to Doc as he pulled away from the house. Rafe
murmured in the cold, “Thanks for the miracle, Lord.”