Chapter 38:

Jubilee lay almost nude on the bale of hay. A narrow strip of cloth covered her breasts, and a sheet was draped over her lower hips. The brand was just visible on the flat, concave curve of her stomach above the edge of the sheet.

Jean finished tying the second sheet, looped and twisted in a rope, to a ring in the stable wall, and Jubilee reached up to grasp the lengths of cloth, slipping her wrists in the loops and winding the slack around both her forearms, gripping the knots with her fists. Remy knelt on the hay beside her, worried. "Chere, please, are you sure dis is what you want?"

"Yes," Jubilee said, nodding to Henry as Jean finished preparing and opened the door to let him in. "I have to do this. I want to do this. I hate that brand, Remy. Every time I see it, it reminds me of what I am. I don't want that reminder, Remy."

The small charcoal brazier by the far wall was heating the small, flat piece of metal on the end of the rod. Henry went to it, pulling the tip out of the fire and studying it. "Almost," he said, replacing the iron. 'My dear, are you quite sure? It will hurt terribly."

"I'm sure," Jubilee said, swallowing hard at the sight of the iron, scared but determined to be brave. "I have to, I have to see Papa again, to tell him I understand and I know why he did what he did. And I want the S gone. I'm sure."

Hank lifted the brand out, and looked at its tip, which glowed a dull orange. He nodded grimly and Jean slipped a leather-wrapped wooden bit between Jubilee's teeth. "Bite down on this," she whispered, her own face white and taut. "It will help." Then she fled the stable.

"She can't stand this," Remy said, white-faced and tight-lipped. "She helps prepare, and she cares for the hands after the brand's removed, but she can't stand to watch. I don't know if I can stay, chere. I hate seeing you in pain."

Jubilee looked at him, her blue eyes full of determination. "I have to do this, Remy. For me. You can go, if you like." She didn't allow the fear in her eyes to show as she got the words out around the wood bit in her teeth.

Remy paused, torn between staying and helping her bear her pain or leaving so he wouldn't hear her scream. He wasn't sure he could bear seeing her in agony. Hank took the iron in his hand, holding it just over her brand, and Remy stared at it. He gritted his teeth and knelt over the top of the hay bale, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. She swallowed hard, her eyes glued to the hot metal, then nodded to Hank. Hank brought the metal into contact with her smooth, pale belly skin.

Jubilee's head went all the way back. Her mouth opened in a scream of agony, and the bit fell out of her mouth. Her arms thrashed and twisted in the sheet holding them captive, but Jean had tied the sheets too well, and Jubilee had known exactly how to wind them around her wrists. When she ran out of breath, she stopped, sucked in a huge breath, and screamed again.

Henry looked a little sick as he smelled the odor of burning flesh fill the barn. He hated this. Hated the necessity of this. As he had done so often, he cursed the institution of slavery that made burning the flesh to rid it of its brand necessary. This time, watching this lovely young woman scream from the horrible agony, he couldn't keep his objectivity. A few tears slipped from his eyes as he pulled the metal away from her flesh after the required ten seconds.

He looked quickly at the skin. The S was gone. He had held the iron a few seconds longer to the girl's skin than he normally did because he had seen how deeply the brand was burned in. he didn't want to risk burning it once, then when it healed finding the brand had not been completely obliterated and having to do this whole horrible operation again. Remy was the first person he'd ever done it to, and he hadn't held the iron to the skin long enough. Henry could still remember the then-fifteen year old boy's screams of agony as the barely-healed flesh was burned a second time. He couldn't do this a second time to the young woman on the hay in front of him. Some men could take it; but women couldn't handle the pain silently. Neither could children. Henry hated having to do this to the children and the women.

He quickly soaked a rag in the waiting bucket of cold water and placed it gently against the seared flesh and the exposed nerves. Jubilee's agonized screams died off into ragged sobs, and Henry, busy tending to the heaving midsection, could faintly hear the soft words in French that Remy was whispering into Jubilee's ear. When the initial fire had worn off and Jubilee had sufficient control over herself that she could unwind her arms from the sheet around her wrists, he dressed the wound with a numbing anesthetic. By the time he was done that, she had herself under control. Although her eyes sparkled with tears and she was still shaking with shock and pain, she was coherent. Henry nodded to Remy and fled the stable as soon as he possibly could.

Their lovemaking was considerably gentler that night; Remy touched her everywhere, awakening the fire in her body and washing away the still-throbbing pain, if only for a short time, with overwhelming pleasure. By the next morning, although her skin still throbbed and stung, the pain was back to a bearable level. She spent a last day out with the horses, and returned early that afternoon to pack. She was passing the door to Xavier's study, trying to figure out the best way to get back to her beloved Papa, when a gentle voice called her in. This time she went into the room with her head high and her step sure. She was free, now, really free, and not even the pain of the burn could keep her spirits from soaring. "Yes, Charles?"

"Sit down, please." Jubilee sank into the padded chair, crossed her ankles, folded her hands, and waited. Charles didn't say anything for a time, just looked at her quietly, and then said, "Are you quite sure you want to do this? Remy loves you, you know. You were supposed to get married."

Jubilee's eyes looked anguished. "I have to, Charles. I know Remy loves me; leaving him here is one of the hardest things I've ever done. But I have to, I miss Papa, and I know he misses me, and I have to tell him that I forgive him for what he said, and I understand why he said it. I never said goodbye. I have to go back."

Charles steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "There is talk that the States will soon be at war," he said, and Jubilee gasped. She hadn't known. "The North wishes to abolish slavery altogether; the south wants to keep slavery as an institution. The war is going to involve every man who has an opinion in the conflict. I don't think even your home will be spared. From what Remy has told me, your father's horses might be taken by the soldiers at the fort for their officers, and your father himself may be drafted."

Jubilee's eyes were wide with horror. She could well imagine her beloved Papa lying on a battlefield somewhere, bleeding, dying, calling for her… "Oh, no," she whimpered.

Xavier leaned forward. "I have a solution I want you to think about on the way back to your home. Andrew is not a competent handler of my horses or my stables, but for right now he is all I have. Since your father taught you everything you know, I feel I can safely assume that your father would be a better choice of stable manager. Therefore, if you wish to bring him back here, feel free to do so."

Jubilee gasped. "You mean…I can bring Papa here, and he and I can manage the stables and I can marry Remy? You'd let Papa live here?"

Xavier smiled. "Of course. Remy is like a son to me, Jubilee. When I first saw him at a slave auction in New Orleans, he was only fourteen years old, had recently watched his mother being beaten to death by his master, and was trying so hard to hide the pain he was still feeling from his own beating when he tried to escape. He still stood straight up on the auction block, as if daring someone to buy him and mistreat him. I couldn't leave him there; I bought him and brought him north with me. My beloved wife, Moira, raised him along with my son Scott, who was the same age.

"When Scott married Jean I found Remy getting drunk after the ceremony. He told me that he wanted the same for himself, a wife, someone who would love him the rest of his life, love him enough to marry him. He had never found anyone who he felt could understand what he'd gone through, who would understand that when he woke screaming in the middle of the night he'd need comforting, not grumbling. It was soon after that that he began to make trips into the States to buy slaves and bring them here to free them.

"About four years ago he came home empty handed and upset. It took a while to understand why. He finally told me one night that he'd fallen in love with a girl who was a slave, but she refused to leave the master she thought of as a father. He was in despair. 'The one woman I have ever loved', he told me. I advised him to go back, to try again. And several weeks ago, he came back with you. These last few weeks he has been happier than I have ever seen him before. The mere mention of your name makes him smile. I want to see him happy, Jubilee, and if you are gone from his life forever that light will go out of his eyes. I also want to see you happy; in the last few weeks I have seen you change from a quiet slave to a beautiful woman. If bringing your father here will make Remy and you happy, then I will do so. And I really do need a competent stable manager."

"I'll try," Jubilee said honestly. "If what you say about the war is true, Papa would rather leave than fight. He doesn't believe in slavery, but he won't fight either. He says fighting's always the last option."

Xavier nodded, and reached into his desk drawer. "Here," he said, handing her a fat envelope. Jubilee opened it, looked inside, and gasped.

"There should be enough in there to pay for your father's trip here, and also to bring any of his stock that might be too valuable to give to soldiers. He may have horses that will raise the value of my own stock. It should also be enough to pay your way to where he is. And there is a train ticket to take you to New York."

Jubilee stared with round eyes at the money and the ticket. "Thank you," she whispered. "But what if Papa doesn't agree to come?"

Xavier frowned. "Consider it a gift, then," he said finally. "But I hope you will do your best to have him come. I think he will be happier here."

"I think so too," Jubilee said quietly. She stood. "I want to pack and get on my way tomorrow morning. If you will excuse me?"

"One more thing," Xavier said as she started for the door. "Please say nothing to Remy about this. I do not want to get his hopes up for your return, and if you do not, he will feel worse."

"I promise. Thank you so much, Charles, you don't know how much this means to me."

She tucked the envelope deep into her traveling bag and packed it with several changes of her clothes, having to think very hard indeed about what she was going to take. The lighter she traveled, the faster she would be able to go. Still, there were things here she would miss; the blue dress Remy loved so much; her dressing gown of scarlet silk and matching nightgown, a gift from Remy. She looked at the circle of gold around her slim finger. Should she keep it, or give it back to him?

She sat for a long time in the darkness of her room, holding the little wooden horse and looking at the ring. The two people she loved most in the world, and she had to decide. Finally, slowly, she made the decision. If Papa wouldn't come with her, she would come back by herself. She loved Remy. Loved him with a passion that surprised even herself. She wanted to marry him, wanted to have his children. And she had come to love all the little luxuries here that they couldn't get at home. Fresh fruit, cheese, bread she didn't have to bake herself, the softest bed she'd ever had…she wouldn't be able to give all that up. She had to come back. "Oh, Papa," she said finally, laying the little wooden horse on top of her pack and stretching out on her bed. "Please come back with me."

And as she went to sleep that night, it was with a prayer on her lips that Logan would come back with her.