“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.
“I can’t believe this is happening. God drew us together in the strangest of ways, Rafe. Everywhere I went His Word promised His love and guidance. Esther helped me realize I’d stopped trusting Him, how I’d also quit believing in everyone around me…like you. I realize now He’s always there, helping me endure the hardest of times, guiding me to a better place. Sarah’s sampler of God’s promise is true. He restored me to a family, to a home of my own—our own.”
He nodded and caressed her cheek. “When Rosemary left, I vowed never to marry. I thought I was heartbroken. I moved here with plans to start farming. But I bumped into a petite little snag when I arrived.”
Their gazes met as he pulled the leather strap from her hair and ran his fingers through her thick locks. His eyes slid closed in pleasure. He opened them and winked at her, his lips twitching. Their gaze intensified. “A few days later I found myself married to you, thinking I’d solved not only my problem but yours. It was a nice little business arrangement, or so I thought.
By the time we’d returned home from my parents’ house, I realized the truth. My feelings for you had nothing to do with business. Then the whole misunderstanding about…babies. God must have a sense of humor, watching me trying to fix everything myself.” Rafe cradled her face, pushing away the stray strands of dark hair, reveling in their closeness. His eyes softened with love and his lips quirked into a smile. “We’ve a lot to talk about, you and I.”
“Yes.” Awe and adoration filled her face.
“Merry Christmas, Jubilee.”
She tilted her head and smiled, while a charming pinkness colored her cheeks. “Merry Christmas, Rafe. My, what a year it’s been.”
His eyes grew hooded as he memorized every feature of his beautiful wife’s face. “A year of Jubilee.”
“Yes.” Her words were a rush of air. They exhaled together, their breath intermingling as their faces drew closer. Heat shimmered between them. “We’ve so much to talk about…later.”
Their lips met on a sigh.
* * *
Rosemary never appeared. A letter came two weeks later from Dale, asking Rafe and Jubilee’s forgiveness for Rosemary’s letters. Despite Jubilee’s new resolve to trust God more, a great sense of relief entered her heart.
Eight months later, Lathan Rafe Tanner arrived with Doc’s skillful care and was laid in his father’s arms. Jubilee gave a tired grin when Doc chuckled over the amazed expression on Rafe’s face. The sunlight through the window lit the golden hair upon the baby’s head.
“I can’t cotton to how such a greenhorn is going to take care of a son.” Doc grunted as he snapped his black bag shut and wiped the sweat from his brow. He motioned to Jubilee, who could barely tear her eyes from the vision of her husband cuddling his newborn. “You’ll have to guide him along, you know.”
She gave the good doctor a benevolent smile, and a soft laugh. “Doc, I don’t know one thing about a baby. All I know is, I was a lost, hurting orphan, and God blessed me with a family
and restored my life. If God can do that, He can help Rafe do anything.”
As he ran his wrinkled hand through his gray hair, Doc nodded. “Reckon I can’t argue with that.”
Please read on to learn more about the author, Peggy Trotter, and to read a sample from another Prism Book Group title, Autumn Dreams.
Please enjoy this sample from Autumn Dreams by Sharon McGregor available from Prism Book Group!
Maggie Lawrence pushed a curling tendril of dark brown hair from her face. She looked around the empty train platform, considering her next move. The train was strangely on time, a possibility her greeter might not have considered. She picked up a suitcase in each hand and sat down on a bench facing the tracks. The day was warm and sunny with a slight breeze to keep things comfortable, a typical late August morning in a 1949 prairie town.
She had nearly dozed off in the sunshine when she heard a deep voice beside her.
“Miss Lawrence?”
She jumped up quickly, knocking one suitcase on its side as she did. “Yes.” It was then she looked up into a set of piercing blue eyes surrounded by a well-tanned face that was set, maybe not in disapproval, but certainly not in welcome.
Maggie had just barely arrived and already she was on the wrong foot. I wonder what I’ve done now? It was a question she often asked her older sister, Dora, who was usually quick to set her straight on her transgressions.
“Sorry I’m late. I had a stop to make at the hardware store first.” At least she knew where she ranked in priority. “Is this all?”
She nodded and he picked up the biggest case. She followed quickly with the smaller one.
“Mr. Thornhill...” she began.
“Matthews, actually,” he said. “I’m just standing in.”
She waited for an explanation that never came. Oh, well. She gave a shrug. At least once she got there she wouldn’t have to cope with him. She hoped the Thornhills were more communicative.
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