Year of Jubilee by Peggy Trotter Read Free Book Online Page B

too.”
    He looked down at the quilt. The simple
design in rust, dark green, and mustard squares appeared well-made
and heavy. The thickness would definitely stave off the chilly
temperatures. He smiled and nodded.
    “Thank ya much,” he said, not sure what else
to say.
    She turned and withdrew into the cabin.
    * * *
    Jubilee barred the door, rested her back
against the rough wood, and chewed her lip while working her skirt
fabric in a circle. Her brow puckered in thought. Use the wood?
Just for a little heat? She rubbed her free hand across her face.
The weather hadn’t even been below freezing the last week and a
half. Colvin would’ve slapped her silly for wasting fuel in such a
way. At the Orphan Society, they often slept five to six in a bed
to ward off the cold.
    Besides, she had the new cape Rafe had
bought her, the wool blanket he insisted on getting, and the dress
Esther had given her. This was the warmest she’d been in years, yet
keeping a fire banked throughout the day would be rather nice. A
luxury even.
    Jubilee collected her thoughts and headed
straight for the food stores. There was breakfast to fix, and a
fire to build as well as tend. Never one to stall, she set to work.
As difficult as the decision to marry Rafe had been, things had
smoothed out. He’d patched the hole in the roof, the porch was
redone, the garden tilled, and the pantry contained plenty of
food.
    Her thin frame had a pinch of health back,
with energy to boot. Now, apparently, there was also plenty of wood
to burn. She had a couple of dresses, a cape, a blanket, and plenty
of cloth to make several more quilts and shirts for Rafe. Really,
she felt almost rich. So why did she harbor such a fear of the
man?
    Jubilee arranged the bacon on Rafe’s plate
beside the scrambled eggs and fresh bread smeared generously with
creamy butter. She put on her cape and took the cheesecloth-covered
platter to the barn. He’d be harnessing the oxen in readiness for
plowing. Stopping at the newly constructed cold box on the porch,
she retrieved the milk bucket and headed across the new grass.
    It seemed silly the man had to take his
meals in the barn. He owned the place after all. A man should be
able to eat at his table, same as she did. Her steps slowed. He
really ought to dine in the cabin. If Jubilee’s hand had been free,
it would’ve clutched at her skirt seam. Instead, she came to a
halt. Rafe should eat in the house. At his table. That meant
she’d have to share or take her meals elsewhere.
    Her face scrunched in thought. Sharing the
cabin would be the decent thing. She let out a loud sigh. Time to
get past this fear. She’d tell him he was welcome to take his meals
at the cabin.
    She set the pail of milk down and opened the
heavy door. The barn’s size resembled a mansion. Since the hour was
early, the inside appeared still and shadowy. The rustling above
made her wonder if he gathered hay in the loft. Like an answer from
on high, a large wad of straw fell to the middle of the floor.
    “Hello?” she called and heard a muffled
response.
    She went to the rough-cut bench, the same
one she’d sat upon the first night Jubilee had met him, and set the
platter and pail down. He suddenly appeared at the top of the
ladder with a lantern, which gave a soft glow that brightened as he
climbed down. He nodded his head at her and made for the bench. She
stepped back but did not leave as customary. After hanging the
lantern, he pulled a bucket from a peg and washed his hands, drying
them on the towel from atop the plate. He paused and looked at
her.
    “You needin’ something?” Like the barn, his
voice was quiet.
    Jubilee swallowed around the knot in her
throat.
    “Yes,” she began, her fingers fixed in the
seam of her skirt. “I think it’d be more proper for you to eat at
the table. In the cabin.”
    He rubbed his hand down his chin, and
Jubilee could hear the rasp of whiskers.
    “What’s brought this on?”
    She shrugged one