Jubilee blinked in the morning light. Her face seemed very cold but her body was snug under the double wedding-ring quilt. As she took a deep wakening breath, she wondered why she hadn’t banked the fire. Now she loathed getting out of bed.
She closed her eyes and relaxed into the soft warmth of her little cocoon of blankets. A large hand crept over her belly, pulling her backwards against an equally bare chest. Then a bristled masculine face and sleepy sigh nuzzled her ear. Jubilee’s eyelids flew open.
She caught her breath as the memory of the previous night swept over her. Allowing a slight smile to tug at the corners of her mouth, she remembered the sweet, gentle caresses of the man she loved. Rafe, who still slept behind her, snuggled against her warm body.
His tenderness gave her yet another reason to give her whole heart to him. She basked in the heat radiating from his form. Nothing about their mating had frightened her. She pondered how such passion burned between them, with his affections set on his previous fiancée. Perhaps he wouldn’t ever love her, but maybe he could learn to be happy with her. Perhaps…no, she wouldn’t allow that woman’s name to come into her mind this morning.
As she lay there, enjoying the closeness of her husband, she became increasingly aware of how late the hour was. Jubilee forced her eyes open and flicked her gaze to the strong sunshine washing through the window. Her brow puckered when she heard the cow lowing insistently from the barn. Then the unmistakable squeaks of a wagon pulling up the drive.
With haste, wondering who rolled up to the cabin, she flung the blankets off and hopped around, grabbing at her shift to cover her chilled body. Her hand went to the wall below the peg next her bed, but her fingers moved through empty air. A flush covered her face as she recalled her dress had been discarded and kicked beneath the mattress.
Rafe stretched and rose up on one elbow, the blankets falling away to expose his muscular chest, sprinkled with dark blond hair trickling to his navel. Her gaze made it to that point before she sensed his eyes on her. He gave a sleepy, wolfish grin. Her face heated even more.
“Good morning.” That grin still in place, he raised an eyebrow at her thin shift. He patted the mattress. “The bed was much warmer when you were in here.”
“Someone’s outside.” She ignored the longing to do just what he suggested. “And I think it’s late, because the animals are fussing.”
His smile faded and his eyes went to the door, listening for the things she’d mentioned. Sure enough, the cow let out a painful bellow.
She bent to grab the dress from beneath the bed and wiggled into the garment before someone knocked on the door. Rafe stood behind her, pulling on his wool pants before reaching for his shirt. A second knock sounded. She plaited her hair into a braid as Rafe strode across the floor to answer the door, buttoning his shirt. He swung his head back to check if Jubilee was decent before swinging it open. There stood Ivan and Elsa with baby Britta balanced on her hip. Oh, my, what a time for a visit.
“Your cow seem hungry maybe,” Ivan remarked. “You have trouble?”
Rafe cleared his throat. “Uh, no, I haven’t fed them yet.”
Jubilee cringed at the odd look that crossed Ivan and Elsa’s faces.
“You sick?” Ivan pressed.
“Uh, no.”
Ivan’s bushy brows came down in confusion. “You remember we kill hogs today?”
* * *
Rafe wanted to kick himself. How could he have forgotten he’d made arrangements to slaughter hogs with Ivan? But then, last night had been an unusual evening.
“Yeah, yeah, come on in. Let me put my boots on. As soon as I take care of the milking and the feeding we can get started.”
Both of them came in with hesitation, and Elsa’s eyes went straight to the bed where the covers lay in a mess. Ivan turned immediately to Rafe, sat next to him at the table, and began a conversation about curing the ham and bacon portions of the hogs.
Rafe ducked his head and concentrated on pulling the stubborn boots on while Ivan talked in butchered phrases. He couldn’t feel less like cutting up those hogs. Ivan paused and Rafe realized his friend had just asked a question. Rafe shrugged, hoping his gesture gave an adequate answer. Ivan began blabbering again, but Rafe found his thoughts wandering back to Jubilee’s soft skin. Oh, and her hair. Rafe suppressed a groan.
By all that was good and holy, it was going to be hard to walk outta this cabin and pretend something life-changing hadn’t occurred between the two of them last night. He stood, then grabbed his hat and gloves. Doggone it. He shot a glance at Jubilee wandering toward the stove, Britta toddling close behind. Elsa’s narrowed eyes fastened to him.
Ivan babbled some gibberish about the new smokehouse he’d built, and how he’d be glad to smoke the meat with the hickory and maple wood he’d acquired. Rafe was just short of busting him in the jaw to shut him up. He hesitated at the door, willing Jubilee to notice, begging to get a glimpse of her dark eyes.
Their gazes locked as Ivan swung the door open. He tried to read the expression there, but she glanced at Britta who yanked at her skirt. Finally, not about to stall anymore, he pulled a smile and lifted his hand when her gaze returned to his. He hoped, for now, the gesture was enough.
* * *
The door closed behind the men. Jubilee’s cheeks burned like a hot coal as she met Elsa’s knowing face. She wiped her sweaty hands down her dress and approached her friend who clutched a bag filled with her knitting.
“Let me make some coffee,” Jubilee offered, with a voice slightly higher than normal, and turned away from her guest.
“You mind I add wood to fire?”
“Oh. No, go right ahead,” Jubilee stuttered, having difficulty getting the stove to cooperate.
A flame finally licked greedily around the round log, and Jubilee sensed Elsa returning to the table. By the time Jubilee turned, grabbed a bowl, and dumped in the ingredients for flapjacks, Elsa had sat on the bench. Jubilee raised her eyes a bit and caught her smile.
“I’m so sorry, Elsa. I didn’t know you were coming today. I guess Rafe forgot to tell me.”
“I not sorry.” Elsa’s fair face dimpled and her hazel eyes danced. “You seem very happy this day.”
Jubilee smiled but fixed her eyes on the batter.
“I suppose you be angry with me?” Elsa questioned.
Jubilee eyed her and shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
Elsa looked down at her daughter toddling around the room. She’d made her way over to the bed and pulled the blankets off.
“When Rafe come, he sad, like lost boy.” Elsa giggled a bit. “He so big to be little boy, no? I only want you be happy, Jubilee. I know how happy little Britta make for me. And Ivan. I want for you, too.”
Jubilee set the bowl down, plopped opposite of Elsa, and laid her hand on her arm. “Don’t feel badly, Elsa. You did the right thing. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”
Elsa beamed then jumped as she remembered something. “Oh, I have mail for you. Miss Rosy at post office ask I bring.”
Elsa pulled two envelopes from her dress pocket and handed them to Jubilee. Jubilee gave a little cry of pleasure, having received a pair of letters when they seldom even got one. The first was from Rafe’s parents but, as she eyed the other one with no return address, her breath whooshed from her body. She’d recognize that fancy writing anywhere.
She swayed. Her vision fuzzed. Had Elsa said something? Jubilee stood. She heard a strange voice ask to be excused to visit the necessary, and she realized it was her own. Somehow she stumbled out the back entrance, across the yard, and into the privy without falling over. She collapsed on the floor and pushed the envelope from Rafe’s parents into her pocket. As she leaned against the rough door, her hands ripped open the letter with the fancy calligraphy. Another letter from Rosemary. Her eyes strained to read the missive in the poor light.
My dearest Rafe,
Oh, please forgive me for writing again so soon and without having received a reply from you, but things have worsened here. I long to join you, therefore I’ve purchased a steamer ticket that will take me to your side, where I belong. Please meet me at the Evansville Wharf on Dec. 5th. If you are unable to, I’ll find my way north unchaperoned. I’ll endure the hardship through the Thanksgiving holiday, but I can wait no longer. I must see you.
All my love, my darling,
Rosemary
The little shrew. How dare she confess her passion for another woman’s husband? Her stomach rocked, and she staggered to gag into the open hole. Sweat broke out on her face and the rolling in her middle continued. That awful woman planned to arrive with the full intent of taking her husband. She sat for a very long time, trying to settle her insides and her nerves.
Two weeks. Two weeks before that horrid Rosemary appeared. What to do? What to do? Jubilee wanted to run for the woods, but thoughts of the cougar flashed into her brain. Besides, Elsa and Britta waited for her in the cabin. Ivan was engaged in an all-day task with Rafe. Her stomach rocked again and her teeth chattered. She hadn’t even bothered to grab her shoes or her cape. Tears burned her eyes.
She heard the cabin door shut. Elsa. She steeled herself. Her friend would be full of questions. A tentative knock sounded on the outhouse.
“Jubilee? You okay?”
Tears coursed down Jubilee’s face and her stomach clenched again.
“No.” Her answer was no lie. “I…think I’m sick.”
“Oh.”
This is my way out.
“Maybe you should take Britta home. I’m not sure if it’s catching.” A sob rose in Jubilee’s throat and she sealed her mouth with her hand. A broken heart was most assuredly not contagious.
“Oh, yes,” Elsa exclaimed. “I get Ivan.”
Jubilee hung her head and wiped her cold face as Elsa’s hurried footsteps grew fainter.
“Jubie, Jubie,” Britta called.
Not even Britta’s sweet voice could bring Jubilee from her misery. She stood and leaned against the door. Heavy footsteps came quickly across the yard.
“Jubilee? Are you all right?” Rafe. Fresh tears cascaded down her face. “Do you need help? Elsa offered to stay.”
“No,” she burst out.
“Are you sure? Can I come in?”
“No.” The word tore from her lips.
Silence stretched for a moment before Rafe spoke again. “I’m going to see the Larsson’s off. I’ll be right back.”
Not if I can help it. She listened for his footsteps to fade then eased the door open. Her mind numb with anguish, she sprinted barefoot across the field, now stubbly and pale with cut stems. She ignored the pain and cold in her feet and slipped into the dimness of the trees.
What was she doing here? A sob broke from her body. There was nowhere to go. She had no money, no clothes, no destination. Choking on tears and hating herself for her stupidity, she only knew she needed to escape.
A shadowed form shifted through the dead vegetation and Jubilee froze with a gasp. She peered into the undergrowth, then glanced around. When had the weather become so gray and formidable? She shivered, hugged herself, and looked down at the small white crystals falling on her sleeve.
A moving object caught her attention and she jerked her head up, her breath coming in foggy puffs. Her gaze shifted from tree to tree to get her bearings, but her comforting woods seemed very forbidding. Dangerous. Fear bloomed in her chest.
Quickly making her way to a young, sturdy oak, she shimmied up the trunk. Almost all the brown, curled-up leaves held fast to the branches. Her fingers and nose were practically frozen by the time she stopped climbing. The exertion had warmed her but, as she sat clutching the tree, the icy wind chilled her to the bone.
She licked her dry, cold lips while the frosty air bit her cheeks. Why hadn’t she grabbed her cloak? Or her shoes? The small crystals gradually turned into fat, wet snowflakes, shrouding her view. The tree creaked and swayed, making her dizzy. She opened her eyes. Was Britta tugging on her skirt? Her brain felt fuzzy and her eyes flickered open and closed. Now open.
A ghostly voice echoed amidst the trees. No, only the cold permeating her thinking processes. She blinked. Her body slipped a bit. She had to hold on. It was a long drop to the ground. Why am I here again? Time slipped by.
A shadow moved below. Jubilee closed her eyes for a lengthy moment before opening them. She leaned over, trying to distinguish shapes. The wind whipped through the leaves, stealing her breath, casting snow in her face.
Was it morning? Why did it seem so dark? Swiveling her head from one side to the other, she pondered whether her mouth was open. Something brushed her arm. Blinking, she fixed her gaze and found white powder. Where had this come from? I should brush it off. She turned her head to stare at her hand, perplexed that it wouldn’t release from the trunk.
Puzzling. A draft blew in. Was the door open? No, no. She was hiding. While pressing her head against the jagged tree trunk, she attempted to remember her reason for hiding. Had she broken a dish? Was Mrs. Ulster about to switch her? Think.
The tree tilted again. No, Colvin had come back. Well, he’d never find her here. She was safe. Besides, he’d be gone in a moment. Her head lolled from side to side, the bark scraping her cheek. She grew drowsy as the white blanket enveloped her. Inhale…exhale. Everything turned gray.
Her left hand flew out into space in an arc, colliding against a rough branch. Her whole body leaned. Where am I? Tired, so tired. Woozy, dizzy, faint. She huffed a short breath and groaned. Her entire being began to relax as she lost the battle with hypothermia. A distant growl eased into her semi-conscious brain.