Year of Jubilee (29 page)

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Authors: Peggy Trotter

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BOOK: Year of Jubilee
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When they had finished, Ivan, fatigue
outlining every crevice of his face, clapped a thick, chapped hand
on Rafe’s shoulder. “What say ve go home, yah?”

Rafe filled his lungs with icy air and
grinned as he skimmed his eyes over the clean new building, bald
without a coat of paint. That’d have to wait for warmer weather.
“I’m all in, my friend. Let’s go.”

Arriving at home, he stabled Horse while
Ivan collected his wife and daughter from the cabin. As Rafe hiked
from the barn, his friend tied his horse to the back of the wagon.
Rafe approached and shook his hand.

“Be seeing ya.” Rafe grinned.

Ivan smiled and nodded his bushy head before
gesturing towards the cabin. “You treat woman right, yah?”

Rafe chuckled and nodded. He had no
idea.

Ivan leaped to the driver’s seat and the
Larrson’s wagon jolted into motion. Rafe waved as they disappeared
through the trees. He turned and exhaustion transformed into
anticipation.
Finally.
He hadn’t had Jubilee to himself
since the day the church had burnt. Now he was going to lay it on
the line.

He took a deep breath and strode to the
door, great purpose dogging his step. Hope rose in his gut.
His
wife.
She was completely his wife. And now, with God’s
guidance, they’d build a life together.

He swung the door open with a smile and a
gleam in his eye. Sunlight lit the floorboards before him like a
beam, outlining his beloved. Jubilee knelt on her hands and knees,
retching into a bucket by her bedside. Disappointment stabbed him,
and the smile slid from his face. Unease shot through his brain as
he covered the distance with swift strides and stooped at her
side.

“No.” Jubilee’s voice came out in a groan.
“Leave me.”

She dipped her head to choke into the bucket
again.

Rafe rose and grabbed a towel before
kneeling beside her once more. “I’m not leaving you, woman. You’re
sick.”

Jubilee settled back against the side of the
bed on the cold, wooden floor, and he reached to wipe her face.
Fear curdled his stomach. Her face was pale with pain, and sweat
beaded on her forehead and upper lip. She looked so weary as she
rested her head against the bed, her eyes shut.
Why didn’t Elsa
tell me she was still ill?

“Let’s get you back into bed.” He reached
for her.

She lifted a limp hand to fend him off.

Rafe pulled away and stood. He studied her
face as tears gathered in the corners of her closed eyes.

“Are you hurting?” he asked, wondering what
damage the vomiting had done to her healing ribs.

She nodded, weeping silently. He drew the
covers in one motion and leaned to gather her carefully into his
arms.

“Jubilee, you need to be in the bed. I know
you don’t want me to move you, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

He lifted her, drawing a gasp of pain from
her lips. With great care, he laid her petite form on the mattress,
smoothed the white gown, and covered her with blankets. His hand
sought her forehead and, thankfully, she wasn’t feverish.

“I’m going to get, Doc.” He grabbed the
bucket to dump it at the outhouse.

“No,” she said faintly as he pulled the back
door open.

“Yes.” His voice booked no argument.

After returning, he made her as comfortable
as possible with a clean bucket, a drink of water, and a fresh
towel before tucking the quilts around her.

Outside, he jogged to the barn and mounted
the horse in no time, heading for town. The cold weather trips were
grueling on his mount, so he left the animal at the stable for a
good rubdown while he strode to Doc’s office on Main Street. It
wasn’t long before they headed out to the cabin in Doc’s buggy,
with Horse, now well groomed, tethered to the back.

Rafe waited anxiously as Doc bent over
Jubilee and finally could stand it no more. He exited and paced the
front yard, stopping every few moments to glare at the door before
running his eyes over the dormant fields, frozen in crystalized
mounds.

Doc’s lengthy examination sent frustration
careening though him, so he headed for the barn. What was he doing
in there? Did the sickness originate from her injuries or something
worse, like cholera, or the flu? He’d no sooner opened the barn
door when he heard the cabin door shut behind him. He spun to see
Doc pulling his long overcoat about him on the porch. Rafe sprinted
back.

Great puffs of fog poured from Rafe’s throat
in the frosty air. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh…” Doc muttered then grunted. “Oh. Ain’t
nothing wrong with her. Her ribs are still sore, sorer now, I
reckon, with all that retching. But she’ll be fine.”

“What do you mean?” Rafe demanded, throwing
his hands out. “She’s sick, Doc. I brought you here to tell me
what’s wrong with her.”

A slow smile spread across Doc’s face at
Rafe’s indignation.

“She ain’t sick, son. She’s expecting,” he
grunted, one bushy brow elevated.

“She’s expecting? She’s expecting…” Rafe’s
next word was going to be ‘what?’ when dawning overcame him.

Doc let out a caw of laughter and slapped
his leg in merriment.

“I begun to wonder if you was a little
slow.” Doc smirked with a huge grin while Rafe blinked in
surprise.

He dropped his eyes to the ground and slowly
brought them back up to Doc’s.

“When…when…when’s it due?”

Another smile crinkled across the old
doctor’s face. “Son, you ain’t that green. ’Bout eight months.”

Doc adjusted his hold on the black bag,
stepped down the stairs, and walked to his parked rig. Rafe stood
rooted to the spot, barely perceiving the sounds of Doc’s departing
wagon, the wheels crunching over the hard frozen ground.

Another of Doc’s guffaws filtered back to
Rafe, shaking him loose of his state of shock. Swallowing, he
climbed the stairs and quietly opened the door to the cabin. To his
relief and disappointment, Jubilee was asleep. It taxed his
self-control to back up to the bench alongside the table to sit and
wait.

His mouth still hung open, he realized, and
he shut it with a snap. She slept so peacefully now, snuggled under
the blankets, her face toward him. No wonder Doc had thought he had
a screw loose. He shook his head.
A baby…his child.

He rose and walked closer to the bed. His
eyes roved the face that had become so precious to him. Such a
powerful love clamped his heart, it almost suffocated him. He
longed to stroke back the dark strands hovering near her cheek,
ached for those deep, haunting eyes to open and fill with love.

She’d captivated him from the first moment
he’d seen her. She been so abused and misused, yet so innocent and
lost. An intense rush of protectiveness rose in his gut.
Oh,
God. Be here, in the center of our marriage. Help me tell her my
heart.
He closed his eyes as his throat tightened with emotion.
God, bless our union.

Rafe stood a long while, gazing upon her
until the animals put up such a racket he realized it was evening
feeding time. Reluctant to pull his gaze from her in case she
somehow disappeared, he rose silently and went to his chores.

* * *

Jubilee’s eyes flitted open and she took a
deep breath. Thankful the nausea had passed, she stared at the
ceiling for a moment. With a sigh, she nibbled her lip. When Rafe
left, she’d have a baby to care for. It’d seemed like such a
wonderful idea. But now, having experienced the weakness that had
settled on her this morning, she knew supporting a baby on her own
would be next to impossible. Tears formed in her eyes, and she
began to pray, her lips forming the words as tiny indistinguishable
whispers came from her.
Trust in the Lord with all your
heart…

“Jubilee?” Rafe’s voice, low and
questioning, seemed very close.

She gasped and turned her head to find him
sitting in a chair not two feet from the bed.

“What do you need? Are you sick again?” He
handed her a hanky to wipe her eyes. “Can I do anything to
help?”

She struggled to sit up, her ribs causing a
moan to escape. His big, gentle hands slid under her arms and
pulled her up and forward against his chest. Her face nuzzled his
neck, and her heart thudded as she drew in his scent. He adjusted
the pillows to support her and laid her cautiously against them.
His face was just inches from hers, and her cheeks heated at his
close scrutiny.

“Can you talk?” His brows lowered.

Jubilee shook her head slightly to clear it.
How could she speak with him so near? She wanted to throw herself
at him, promise all kinds of outlandish things, if he’d only stay.
Her unnatural feebleness tamped down the urge, but her throat
swelled and she swallowed. “Of course I can talk.”

He drew away, scanned her face, and adjusted
the covers before settling back in the chair. His knee pressed
against the bed, and Jubilee glanced sideways at him. The fear
she’d once held for him had completely evaporated. Instead,
adoration and admiration filled her soul. His size, which at one
time had intimidated her, now instilled protectiveness. How she
ached to feel the shelter of his muscled arms around her. Clenching
her hands, she ripped her mind from these thoughts before she
dissolved into tears and climbed into his lap.

“How long have you been there?” she
questioned quietly.

He shrugged. “A while. Are you feeling
better?”

She nodded and placed a hand to her flat
belly and inhaled. A child grew within her. Rafe’s child. Would
this baby have golden locks and eyes of emerald? Rational thought
returned as the silence lengthened and, sensing his gaze on her
every movement, she snatched her hand away.

“Are you thinking about the baby?” His voice
was gentle.

She gasped and turned her face fully toward
him. “You know?”

He nodded. Her head throbbed, and a sob
worked its way from her stomach.
Trust, trust
. After a
couple of jerky breaths, she covered her mouth with her hand. He
rose and massaged her shoulders.

“No,” she choked. “Please.”

His touch awoke a longing that would never
be fulfilled, and his tenderness all but scalded her skin. Tears
cascaded down her face and his weight pressed on the bed next to
her. She twisted from him.
Oh, I love this man
. It rocked
her soul, and encompassed her being. How many times had she dreamed
of running her hands through his blond hair and pressing her lips
to his, whispering the depths of her love? He shifted closer and
his leg pressed against hers, and memories of their night of
passion flooded her thoughts. How would she let him go?

Oh, dear God. Help me bear what he’s about
to say.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Rafe gathered Jubilee in his arms, crooning
and stroking her hair. He stifled plans of revealing his love, and
his heart thundered with impatience. He wasn’t sure what was going
on. Was she in pain, or upset about the baby?

“It’s all right, Jubilee, you’ll see. A
child will be such a blessing. I understand you’re weak now, but
you’ve time to heal before the baby comes. Besides, I’ll be here to
help in any way, I promise.” He breathed in the lilac scent of her
hair and his stomach knotted.

Suddenly, with great strength, she wrung
free of his embrace and turned to him with red, tear-streaked
cheeks. “You can’t be much help if you’re not
here.

Rafe drew back, still gripping her upper
arms, his brows crinkling. “What are you talking about?”

Jubilee inhaled stuttering breaths,
shoulders heaving. “She’s coming.”

Rafe grimaced and brought his hands up to
capture her face. “Who? Rosemary?”

Attempting to pull from him, she nodded as
tears washed her cheeks.

Rafe gave a small gruff laugh. “Let her
come. No skin off my nose.”

Jubilee’s dark eyes flew open, and her sobs
slowed. His hands slid down and covered hers clutching the blanket.
She blinked at him.

“There was a letter, wasn’t there?” His tone
grew hushed, while he searched her eyes.

“Yes.” Jubilee’s voice wobbled.

“And she’s on her way here, right?” He
narrowed his eyes, and fear lit Jubilee’s face. “And it doesn’t
mean a hill of beans to me. I’ll be glad to send her packing,
because I’m already holding the hands of the woman I love.”

Jubilee gasped. “What?”

Rafe grinned, a gleam dancing in his eyes.
“I said
you’re
the woman I love. I want to live here, with
you, in this cabin, and have lots of babies and grandbabies, and
sit in that swing holding your hand through it all, come sunshine
or rain…if the Lord lets me.”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth
to speak, but no sound came.

“Jubilee?” He raised a brow.

She freed her hand of his and gripped his
bicep. “Are you…sure?”

“Glory, woman. What more can I say?” Ardor
flamed within him as he drew her closer. “Jubilee, you need to talk
to me. I understand you’re working through a lot of pain from your
past. If you need some time, I’ll be glad to court you. We’ll take
all the time you need, I’ll move back to the barn and we’ll go
slow. We’ll…”

“I love you, Rafe,” New tears rimmed her
eyes.

His speech halted and his gaze sought hers
hungrily. As he studied her, his grin appeared and grew. She wiped
away the moisture, and her mouth parted with wonder into a shy
smile.

He chuckled. “You sure know how to scare a
fella.”

Sobering, he pulled her into a gentle
embrace and laid a soft lingering kiss on her lips before pressing
his forehead to hers. “Can I retract the part about moving to the
barn?”

She gave a giggle-hiccup, and they laughed
together. Quietness grew between them as he rubbed her back with
his hands, feeling her relax under his touch. Her arms crept along
his shoulders and she touched the hair at his neck. When she spoke,
it was in hushed amazement.

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