basket, Esther whisked her to the back door once again.
Pausing outside, the older woman picked white tulips from her
flower bed. The older woman’s stories never paused as she wrapped a
brown ribbon around the fragrant flowers’ stems.
“Every bride should have a bouquet. Yes, oh
yes. Pretty as a spring day.” She presented them to Jubilee’s
trembling hands and looked her over. “Now, I suspect your groom
awaits, so we must hurry. We’ve kept them long enough.”
Jubilee swayed as the church door swung
open, trying to adjust to the dim interior. A large, firm hand
caught her arm. Rafe. Gracious, the man was tall . Her eyes
searched his for a moment, and his gaze swept over her hair and
dress. A frown settled between his brows, and he released her. She
took a shaky breath and stepped away. He hadn’t approved. Well, it
wasn’t as if they married for love. Rubbing her arm where he had
touched her, she wasn’t sure why his disapproval shook her.
Biting her lip and dabbing at the moisture
in her eyes, she stepped toward Pastor Barnett. The contents of her
stomach rocked, and she had a horrible feeling the roast beef might
make a reappearance. A hot wave washed over her and she swallowed.
She was only vaguely aware Rafe had stepped next to her. Pastor
Barnett held his Bible aloft. Jubilee closed her eyes as her
stomach rolled again. Rafe mumbled something, and she opened her
eyes. Pastor Barnett looked at her expectantly, leaning slightly
forward with a small smile pinned to his face. Bile gathered in her
throat.
“I do.” She fought the nausea for a few
moments more before hearing, ‘…the power vested in me.’
Her stomach lurched, and she took flight
toward the side door, her hand firmly clamped over her mouth.
Around the back of the church she sailed, before throwing herself,
and the contents of her stomach, all over the grass. When the
heaving stopped, she rolled over and lay on her side, covering her
face with her hands. Please don’t let them find me. The
thought had barely run through her mind when a large hand touched
her arm. “Please, leave me.”
She could hear Esther’s melodic voice
approaching and wished she were at home where she’d spring up and
run for the woods. Instead, strong arms gathered her, and suddenly
she floated.
“Please, no.”
“Oh, dear, oh dear, the poor thing. Let’s
get her into the house.” Esther’s voice appeared much closer.
Someone pressed a handkerchief into her
hand. Jubilee buried her face in the strong column of Rafe’s neck.
Before she protested, her new husband answered.
“I think it’s best if I took her home.”
The floating continued and Jubilee clenched
her eyelids closed.
“You’re more than welcome to spend a few
nights with us until she’s up and ready.” Esther spoke again.
Jubilee grabbed tightly onto Rafe’s collar.
He cleared his throat and stretched his neck. She let go of his
shirt.
“No, she’ll be much more comfortable at
home.”
He placed her in the back of the wagon, and
Esther brought a quilt to cover her. She buried her head under the
blanket and let the tears squeeze through her lashes. In the
background, she heard Rafe thanking the couple, then the wagon
began to move. She was married again. Married to another stranger.
She stuffed the edge of the quilt in her mouth to stifle the
sobs.
* * *
Rafe mentally wrestled with himself all the
way home. He hated that she was sick and knew the stress of
marrying him had brought the illness on. Yet, if he hadn’t married
her, she’d be homeless. But she’d be free. If only she hadn’t
appeared all dolled up. He didn’t like her being so…attractive. It
was much easier dealing with a homeless young orphan.
How did a dress and a few hairpins make such
a difference? He squelched the emotion down. Didn’t matter. Didn’t
matter a hill of beans. He was here to make this farm become
successful and, by dog, he would. No brown-eyed
doe-child-turned-woman would waylay him in
Learning to Kill: Stories