Free Year of Jubilee by Peggy Trotter Page B

the
help of her husband’s hand. She chose the third row of seats and
sat against the far wall, facing forward. The interior was terribly
tight once the others were in, and Rafe threw his arm around
Jubilee to afford a little room for his large shoulders.
    She clenched her sweaty hands, wondering how
she could sit so stiffly for five hours. The coach shuffled as the
rest of the passengers climbed in. She turned her head toward the
window to get a small puff of air. Jubilee leaned forward and saw
the driver climb up the side to the top of the vehicle. Another
jostle shook the coach as the shotgun partner mounted on the other.
She heard the driver yell out a ‘Hi-O,’ and they were off.
    She caught her breath as everything swayed,
but she soon settled, enjoying the ride. Leaning back, she relaxed
against the seat and Rafe’s arm. The movement of the coach was
pleasant but the seating arrangement was not. The passengers, like
one being, lurched with each jolt of the coach.
    There was no concern of losing one’s seat as
the passengers melded as one flesh sandwich with the conveyance
walls as bread. A breeze picked up as they left Princeton. As they
increased in speed, dust came in with the air and Jubilee turned
her eyes inward. The window would be a mixed blessing.
    “Well, this is certainly a perfect
opportunity to get to know one another,” the man on the other side
of Rafe commented.
    Jubilee leaned forward to catch sight of his
red face and ample girth. The man was at least fifty, with a hat
sitting jauntily on his wispy head. He had a gold chain that ran
from his buttonhole to a pocket on his satin vest. His blue eyes
were merry and friendly.
    “I’m Clyde Lane from Vincennes. I own Lane’s
and Sons Mercantile.”
    A rumble sounded from Rafe’s chest. “Well,
Mr. Lane, I’d shake your hand, but at the moment, I can’t move. I’m
Rafe Tanner from Princeton.”
    The man chuckled back. “And the lovely
lady?”
    Her husband cleared his throat. Yes,
explain that one. However, he answered without a hitch.
    “This is my wife, Jubilee.”
    The man leaned forward and gave a smile
showing a gold tooth. “Mighty fine to meet you folks. What business
you in?”
    “Farming,” Rafe answered smoothly.
    “Ah.” The man let out a breath. “The salt of
the earth kind of people. I always say, that’s the best type. Me,
I’m on my way to Evansville to scout out new merchandise. Got some
competition across the road now, and I figure to expand my
wares.”
    Rafe nodded.
    “Yep. You make this trip often?” Mr. Lane
asked.
    “Ah, no. Actually, I’m somewhat new to the
area,” Rafe replied. “My folks live over toward Louisville.”
    The older man let out a chuckle. “Ya don’t
say? I have a sister that lives in that neck of the woods. They own
some fine horseflesh down Kentucky way. You ever been to Three
Pines Horse Farm?”
    Rafe adjusted his arm along the back of the
seat, and Jubilee fidgeted. “No, can’t say I have. Heard of the
place, though. My folks are on the Indiana side. They own a farm
northeast of New Albany.”
    “Can’t beat the Hoosier State. Bet you were
born and raised there, huh? I hail from Virginia originally.”
    “Yes, I was. My grandparents came out of
Maryland and settled in Indiana. My wife came from
Pennsylvania,”
    Jubilee could feel the vibrations of Rafe’s
voice against her shoulder and a warmth spread through her that he
thought to mention her roots.
    “I see.” Mr. Lane caught Jubilee’s gaze.
“From Penn’s wooded land, eh? My guess is you’re headed to
Pennsylvania or New Albany. Am I right?”
    Rafe’s answer came out as a jerk as the
coach lurched. “New Albany, this trip.”
    This trip? “Oh.” Jubilee’s hip ground
against the wall.
    The merchant leaned forward again. “You all
right, little lady?”
    “Yes.”
    Mr. Lane chuckled. “There’s a few bad spots
in this road. Might be best if you climbed in your husband’s
lap.”
    Jubilee’s face burned,