Chapter 22:

Logan sat on the corral fence, balanced easily on the thin wooden rail, and whittled at a chunk of wood as he watched Jubilee and the young brave work the piebald Indian pony on a lunge line.

"No, not like that," Jubilee said, laughing a little, "You have to turn with the pony. Otherwise you'll get all tangled up in the line." She reached out and placed her small hands on the brave's sides, turning him as the Indian pony ran on the end of the line.

Logan watched closely. Jubilee had become a little better about touching, or being touched, by other people; but she still tended to keep herself restrained around others. He was the only one who saw the exuberant, bubbly side to her personality, the sudden bursts of laughter, the little dance of happiness she did in the warm spring sunshine when she went down to the creek to wash clothes or bathe.

The Indian braves had started showing an interest in her soon after he'd given her the blue beaded necklace that marked her third year with him. He'd decided then and there that since she didn't know when her real birthday was, he'd make that her birthday.

The braves had started coming. At first only a few bold individuals, claiming they wanted to trade with him for horses he had but in reality hoping to get a glimpse of his reputedly lovely daughter. He traded with them, introduced her to them, then watched girl and brave to see whether they would get along. She was polite, but cool, to the ones she didn't like; they generally didn't return. Some she liked, but would go out of her way to acquaint them with the fact that she was considered white man's property; they would then come back as friends, but no more than that. She never showed an interest in any of them, until one day this brave came to the door. Logan could almost see the sparks fly between them. The brave had asked about his training methods, and Logan had invited him back so Jubilee could show him how they trained horses.

Stamping Buffalo was a huge brave from Soaring Eagle's camp. Standing six and a half feet tall, fully a foot and a half taller than Logan himself, with huge hands and muscular arms, he dwarfed Jubilee, who was now only a bare few inches shorter than Logan. It had been a surprise to him to wake up one morning and find that he no longer had to duck his head to kiss her cheek. But for all that size and muscle and brawn, he had a gentle soul inside him that hated to hurt any living thing beyond what was necessary to obtain food. The thought of Jubilee being whipped was incomprehensible to him. And Jubilee had responded to his interest with her own, although Logan had yet to find out if the interest was simply interest or might turn into something else eventually. So he had offered to train Buffalo's horse for him.

The horse was huge. Logan wondered where Buffalo had found this one. He had to be a large horse, for most Indian ponies would be unable to carry the weight and bulk of the large brave. The piebald in the corral was fully seventeen hands high, with legs the size of small tree trunks and a thick neck with a savage, ugly head. Buffalo had told them that the horse's temperament and nature were as ugly as its exterior, but he wasn't going to find another horse that could carry his weight like the piebald could. Logan had made the agreement without having seen the horse, and had almost rescinded the offer when he saw the horse. The rolling eyes on that beast meant only one thing, trouble, and Logan wasn't sure Jubilee could handle the horse. He'd taken to watching the training, coming out with a piece of wood and his knife to whittle while he kept an eye on the horse. So far nothing untoward had happened, but he still felt a sense of foreboding.

"All right. Come on now, trot!" Jubilee flicked the line on the horse's back. The horse paused for a moment, and rolled one white eye at the girl, as if considering whether it was going to obey or not. Jubilee brandished the whip, threatening to touch the horse with it although Logan knew she wouldn't. That was the one thing Logan didn't approve of. Sometimes a horse, especially a renegade like this one, needed to have some sense whipped into his tough hide; but Jubilee hated whips, never picked one up unless it was absolutely necessary, and never, ever hit a horse with it. Most horses seemed to appreciate it; they did what she wanted. This horse, though, was spoiling for a whipping. Logan knew if the horse hurt Jubilee he'd take the whip to that thick black and white hide himself.

Jubilee stopped the horse, finally, when horse, man, and herself was wet and dripping. She wiped her sweating forehead with the back of her arm and sighed. "Can I keep him here overnight? Maybe the wildness of the other Indian ponies is affecting him. I'd like to turn him out in the geldings' pasture and see if the lack of aggressiveness helps settle him some. I'll give you Thunder; he'll carry your weight." Logan was surprised; she'd never offered Thunder to anyone before.

Thunder and the brave seemed to get along. Jubilee simply pointed her horse out to the brave and left them. Thunder had been gentled a bit, or maybe it was just age; but he allowed the brave to mount him, and went with him seemingly willingly enough.

Jubilee finally turned the piebald out into the pasture, and met Logan climbing down off the corral fence. She sighed and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I don't understand it, Papa. Most horses misbehave a few times deliberately until I raise the whip, then I don't use it, I just keep making the horse do the same thing over and over again, wearing him down with patience, until he decides that I'm not going to stop ordering him to do…whatever…until he does it. But Savage doesn't do it. He deliberately challenges me, and doesn't back down. I have to snap the whip before he gives in, and I have to keep snapping it so he does what I want him to do. It's almost like he's asking for it, Papa, and I don't know why."

Logan sighed and draped an arm over her shoulders. "I dunno know either, kid. Some horses are like that; I usually don't mess with 'em. I almost told Buffalo we wouldn't do it, but ya seemed ta kinda fancy him a little, an' I want ya ta fin' someone ya can be happy with."

She turned to look at him. "That was why? Papa, do you want me to leave you?"

Logan hugged her firmly. "I want ya ta be happy, Jubes. If ya haveta leave me ta be happy, then that's what I want ya to do. I'll miss ya terribly, but ya got a right ta live yer own life an' have babies an' all that. If ya like that brave, I'm willin' ta work somethin' out so ya can go off with him an' have all the babies ya want."

Jubilee sighed. "Papa, I won't lie, I do like him. But I don't think I like him enough to sleep with him and have his babies. I mean, I think he'd make a wonderful husband to a woman someday, and he'd be a wonderful father, but I don't see him like that. He just…he doesn't understand, papa. He doesn't understand what a slave is, what it means. I tried to explain it to him, but papa, the Indians treat their horses like they treat their children. They have no concept of what it's like to be a slave, to be watched all the time, to be whipped for every tiny little thing we do wrong. He can't comprehend sitting next to a bucket of water all day and being forbidden to drink. He's never gotten so thirsty and seen water and not been allowed to drink. I tell him, and his brain understands, but his heart doesn't. No one understands, except Re--" she broke off, blushing furiously.

Logan sighed. 'I tried, darlin'. I asked if anyone'd seen a handsome Cajun the last time I went to Miss Gina's. They hadn't. I'm sorry, he's gone. If I could, I'd bring him back here for you. I was planning on going to Miss Hannah's an' askin' her if she'd seen him tomorrow."

"Papa, please. Don't. I do care for him, a lot, and I would like to see him, but I'm staying here with you. I'll stay with you as long you want me here. I love you, Papa."

"Oh, darlin'. I love ya too. But I'm willin' ta pay the price of not havin' ya if it means yer gonna be happy."

Jubilee sighed as they went into the cabin. "Well, he hasn't been back in the last few years, and there are a lot of places he could be. I'm not worried about it. What do you want for dinner?"

Logan went to bed after dinner, and watched her sit up a while sewing a new saddle blanket for Thunder for a while until his eyelids closed. When he opened them again, he saw the fire had died, and the cabin was chilly. Spring had just arrived, but it was still early enough for him to feel a bit of winter's chill in the air.

He got up and put another log on the fire, stoking it until the cabin was warm again. Then he went over to Jubilee's bed. She lay on it, sleeping, her face shadowed in the firelight dancing off the walls. He pulled the rabbit skin blanket he'd made for her up a little further toward her chin, and tucked the ends under her arms. She sighed, rolled over, and whispered something, a name, under her breath before slipping back into deep sleep.

Logan went back to bed, staring at the ceiling, troubled. Remy. She'd whispered Remy's name. It sounded like purring, sensual caress; the way his name had sounded on Annie's lips. Dear God, she must really have been in love with the boy, to have clung to the memory of his name and his kiss for so long, She hadn't seen him in almost four years; she wasn't likely to see him again; and yet…

Logan got up, unable to sleep, and picked up his knife and the wood he'd been whittling. He'd wanted to carve her a miniature of Thunder that she could tuck in the bottom of the little box hidden under the floorboards, the box that kept all of her personal mementos, like the box under his bed held his. He'd caught the horse in Jubilee's favorite position, head flung high and proud in a rear, mane and tail flowing gracefully. He'd always been good with a blade. He used it as an extension of his own arm and hand, letting his knife carve the shape that was in his mind as he thought about what to do with Jubilee. She said she was happy; that was true when she was younger, and the fracas almost four years ago over the free papers had done little to suppress her enthusiasm for living here with him. She had continued as if it had never happened, although she'd shed some bitter tears over the ten white scar lines on his back. But they were nowhere near as bad as the five the Railmaster had given her.

He sat awake, finishing the little horse and thinking, as the sun climbed high over the horizon.

The sun rose higher as he traveled over the grass prairie toward Jackson. She'd told him she intended to work some more on Buffalo's horse today, and he had wondered briefly if he ought to tell her to wait for him to come home. Suppose something happened that she couldn't handle? But she had plenty of experience, and she told him that Buffalo was coming soon to help her, so he'd left her and headed for town, driving the wagon.

He stopped in at the store and picked up some more cloth (she said she wanted to make him a new pair of trousers out of the new thick blue cotton cloth someone had come up with). Feeling the material through his fingers, he was surprised at the strength and the thickness. This would be just the thing for him to wear when riding or working with the horses. He thought a little more, then picked out another bolt. She could make a dress for herself out of it, and then she wouldn't have to constantly be patching up her heavy cotton skirt. A dress of this stuff would be better for her to work in.

He came out of the store and heaved the bolt of cloth into the wagon, and was just swinging into the wagon seat when he saw a horse tied to the hitching post across the street. A big, glossy chestnut, with a flowing black mane and tail; it was stamping restlessly and irritably as the smith and another man in a long, dusty brown traveling coat inspected a front hoof. Logan stared at the horse; it looked familiar. Surely… And then, as he stared, the man in the dusty coat took his hat off to wipe his sweaty brow, and Logan saw the familiar locks of auburn hair. It was Remy!

He slid out of the wagon seat and ran across the street, dodging the wagons that passed in front of him. "Remy!" He shouted. "Remy LeBeau!"

Remy's head jerked up; he scanned the street for the source of the sound, and then saw Logan coming toward him. "Logan!" he exclaimed, pounding the other man's back in an excess of happiness. "Long time Remy didn' see you! How you doin'?" He took a quick peek behind Logan. "Where de p'tite? She not wit' you anymore? She sold, maybe?" He looked apprehensive.

Logan grinned and slapped the taller man on the arm. "Naw, I ain't never gonna sell her, an' ya know that! She's back at the ranch, workin' one o' the horses."

"She okay?" The Cajun frowned.

"Yeah. Why?" Logan asked, seeing the apprehensive look on the other man's face.

"Remy put his horse on de train and took de train west. Was going to ride de length of de rail, an' see what slavery look like on de wes' coas'. Den I see de man dey call Walbrook, de Railmaster, and' he was talkin' to a frien' o' his 'bout stoppin' here an' gettin' de 'girl who got away' from him. I figure he was talkin' bout your girl, an' I figure on stoppin' in to see how you doin, an' warnin' ya."

Logan went cold all over. "He ain't gittin' her. Thanks fer the warnin'. Ya got any plans fer the night? Yer welcome ta come stay."

Remy looked uncomfortable. "Non, Monsieur, Remy figure he jus' goin' to stop in an' den go. Don' wanna intrude."

"Won't be intrudin'," Logan said firmly. "Promise. Be jus' like the last time ya stopped in." He met the other man's eyes squarely. "She like ta see ya too."

Remy thought for a moment, then nodded. "Let me get Rogue looked at, den we go out to your place, oui?" he said with a cheerful grin.

Logan growled, "Don' be too long. Wanna hurry an' get back. She's okay as long as she stays in, but lately we been a little lax 'bout followin' all them damn rules 'bout passes and suchlike."

Remy nodded. "Okay. Remy try not to take too long."

The smith went as quickly as possible, replacing the worn shoes on Remy's horse, but it was still late afternoon by the time the two men were on their way back to the property. Logan was silent most of the way, except for small talk; he was trying to figure out how to tell the man that he thought Jubilee fancied him. And how would he react? Would he want a little slave girl? He finally decided to let things happen on their own, and spent a little bit of time telling Remy all about the events of the past few years.

"Jubilee!" he shouted as he walked up to the gate and unlocked it, opening it. "Hey, kid! We got a visitor!" He was puzzled when there was no answering shout or patter of feet. "Jubilee? Hey, where are ya?"

The cabin looked the same as it had that morning; no supper waiting, no sign of any being prepared. The animals were calling hungrily for their supper, too. Logan wandered out to the corral, wondering if she was just working one of the horses late, but the corral was empty. The long training whip lay in the dust, dropped and forgotten, as if someone had left in a hurry; and then when he walked into the barn for the chicken's feed he saw her saddle and bridle were missing too, as well as the coil of rope she used to rope horses with. He ran out to the pasture and looked; sure enough, Thunder was missing. He returned to the corral, studying the footprints, and read the story trampled into the dust there. She had been working with a big horse, Buffalo's horse, judging from the size of the hoof prints. There had been a scuffle; the horse had suddenly changed direction on the far side of the fence and rushed her. She'd stood her ground until the last second, then moved when it was obvious the horse wasn't going to stop. Savage had rushed on past her, gathered his hindquarters, and leaped the fence. Her frail strength had not been able to hold onto the end of the lunge line, and it had probably been pulled out of her hands. Alarmed, she'd called for Thunder, saddled him up, and ridden him out to catch the escaped horse. But how long ago had she left? Dusk was falling, and night would be here soon. She couldn't track a horse at night, and she didn't have a pack or blanket to sleep on. She would be home soon.

He pushed aside the nagging worry and went back to the cabin to wait.