Year of Jubilee (30 page)

“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
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and
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Autumn
Dreams
.

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Autumn Dreams
by
Sharon McGregor
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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.

In the parking area stood a green wagon
hitched to a pair of huge black horses. A dark blue sedan sat a few
yards farther.
I certainly hope he belongs to the car.

He stared at her with an expression of
slight contempt. Was her fear of horses that obvious? Maggie felt
great relief as he led her to the car and pushed her cases into the
back seat. Then, seemingly as an afterthought, he opened the
passenger door for her.

After one or two comments about the weather,
which he answered monosyllabically, she gave up and spent the rest
of the ten-mile ride looking at the passing countryside. They
turned left on the highway and slowed on the gravel road. She
managed a covert sideways glance at her driver, who was
concentrating on keeping the car straight on fresh gravel.

Good-looking, definitely. Even features, a
strong, straight nose, sun wrinkles around those striking blue
eyes, and a mouth that could have been described as generous, even
though its firm set was not. She wondered what had caused those
unforgiving lines in such a young man. He couldn’t have been long
out of his twenties, perhaps not much older than her own
twenty-five years. Perhaps he’d been in the war. That would account
for the care lines.

The road was narrow and sided by grassy
ditches that now held water. There must have been a heavy rain
recently. The ditches were broken up on both sides by lanes leading
into farmyards, each fronted by a mailbox on a post. She felt a
sudden tingle and glanced to the side just in time to see her
driver’s glance slide away.

So, Mr. Matthews might disapprove, but he
was interested enough in his passenger to give her the once-over
when he thought she wasn’t looking.

They turned a corner and he slowed at the
next mailbox. The lane was blocked by a barbed-wire fence with a
gate, and he jumped out to open it. He moved smoothly, a man whose
muscles did his bidding effortlessly. At the end of the lane, they
rounded a corner and came to a stop in front of a two-story, white
farmhouse. To the right was a grey, unpainted barn. Dotted around
the yard were a garage, a couple of granaries, a clothesline filled
with white sheets, and a large woodpile. A red tractor, hitched to
a set of harrows, stood beside the garage.

This was going to be Maggie’s home for the
next year.

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Peggy Trotter is a
small town Hoosier native who teaches 1
^st
and
2
^nd
grade at a small Christian School and writes
Christian Romance in her spare time. God blessed her with a
wonderful husband who cooks and helps clean while supporting her
crazy dreams. She has two incredible grown kids, one fabulous
son-in-law, and two rays of sunshine, commonly called
grandchildren.

If you’ve enjoyed this novel, please
consider leaving the author a review. Your thoughts and feedback
are very much appreciated.

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