Juniper Tree (eBook)

Chapter One

It was too early to start the day, but a mixture of fear and anticipation served as Jessica Compton’s alarm clock. Tiptoeing across the cold plank floor she dressed as quietly as possible, added a log to the iron stove in the kitchen, and put the coffee on to boil.

Although trying her best to be quiet, the clatter roused her mother. Stretching and yawing, Etta Sue made her way into the kitchen. “Jess…you leavin’ already? The sun isn’t even up, darlin’. Don’t you want some breakfast?”

“I made coffee, Mama. Are you feelin’ better?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a cold. I’ve rubbed my nose raw but at least my throat feels better this mornin’. It’s nothin’ to worry about.”

“I’ve got to get goin’.” Jessie sighed, “I promised I’d be there early. I’ll eat somthin’ when I fix Naomi’s breakfast.”

Etta Sue sighed, poured a cup of coffee, and mumbled. “Seems that woman could at least make her own breakfast…I’ve had six babies and nobody ever made me breakfast.”

“She’s rich, Mama. Rich people do things different than us. ‘Sides, the more I work the more money I can bring home.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, promised to be back before dark, and rushed out the door.

Etta Sue watched her daughter through the window until she could no longer see her. “Keep her safe,” she whispered as Jessie disappeared over the ridge.

A boisterous wind had ripped through the fields most of the night, but now, near dawn, the wind calmed itself long enough to welcome the sunrise.

An assortment of birds, mostly sparrows, chirped nonstop trying to get their conversation in before the wind returned.

As the sun rose in the east, Jessie quickly made her way over the corn stubbles of the recently harvested field. Cut corn stood in ricks and threw their shadow across her path. Like sentinels, they seemed to warn her as she passed them by, but she paid them no mind.

It was early October in the year of eighteen-sixty-seven. The horrifying ‘War Between the States’ had finally come to an end, and everyone hoped for a quick reconstruction for the broken country.

Seventeen-year-old Jessica Compton, better known as Jessie, had none of this on her mind. In fact, she was too consumed by the turmoil in her soul to be even slightly aware of the country’s trouble.

Across the field of the adjoining farm owned by the Byers’, family, Jessie walked, and as she walked she tried to sift through the chaos raging in her heart.

Young in age, Jessie carried a heavy burden for her struggling family. She loved them and willingly took on the task of helping feed and cloth them. However, the love for her family did nothing toward reconciling her to a God she resented.

Jessie’s father, Franklin, had died at the plow shortly after he’d purchased his dream a five hundred acre farm in the center of Missouri.

Firmly convinced God had ruthlessly snatched her father, she felt no obligation to keep God’s rules. In Jessie’s mind it was settled. If there was a God, He had robbed her…not only her but her entire family. Little known to most, her father’s death had left her with a constant fire of anger simmering on the back burner of her emotions. And now it was fueled by her desire to find happiness in the forbidden.

With all of their savings wrapped up in the farm, Etta Sue, Jessie’s mother, was determined not to lose it to the bank. Working long hours, she did everything in her power to do a man’s job. Her children helped, yet working as hard as they could, there never seemed to be enough. Although Etta Sue would have preferred her children work their own farm, both her daughter, Jessie, and her oldest son, Joshua, were now working as hired help to their near neighbors, the Thortons.

Jessie’s bare feet were freezing cold in the wet Missouri dew, but she barely noticed. Deep in thought, she came to a little stream that separated the Byers’ land from the Thorton’s and jumped across it easily.

Assessing the complexity of her situation she saw no answers. The set trap had sprung, and the enemy of her soul rejoiced. Young and inexperienced, Jessie Compton had fallen in love with her married employer and did not realize he was practiced in seduction. She was on a slippery road but blind to the consequence of her actions or the pain that awaited her.

Fearful of the outcome, but hoping he truly loved her as much as he proclaimed, Jessie reflected. If Jonah was to divorce Naomi…but of course he’s never mentioned such a thing, seldom even says he loves me. But, if he did, we could have a wonderful life together. She frowned at the thought of how impossible it all seemed. And how can I ever tell Mama? She would never understand. In her eyes it would be adultery. But, if I was married to Jonah, I’d be rich and I could help Mama....help the whole family. Maybe she could forgive me if she didn’t have to work so hard.

Because it was faster Jessie chose the shortcut across the field instead of the rut filled road. Stubbles from the recently harvested cornfield bit into her bare feet, which were hard and calloused, much the way she tried to make her heart. Still, there were those places that were vulnerable.

Hurrying with her head down, the wind started up again blowing her long, dark, curly hair loose from her braids tangling it unmercifully and wrapping her threadbare dress around her legs.

Without a doubt, little Jessie Compton had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Her large brown eyes fringed in black lashes caused most folks to give a second look, but she hardly noticed. She was more in tune with the sorrow she bore than her own physical attributes. In fact, it was generally said that, since her father’s death, Jessie Compton had a sad look about her even when she smiled.

Quickening her steps as she crossed the clearing, Jessie let her thoughts linger over her recent time with Jonah. She shivered more from excitement than cold. The color rose in her face and her eyes sparkled.

Trying not to think of the consequence of her indiscretion, she pondered on how it had all begun. At first he had told her how much he loved her pie, and then how much he appreciated her hard work. Before long he was touching her hand softly and peering into her eyes.

She found him the most exciting, most desirous man she had ever met. Of course excluding her father, she had little contact with any man.

Before she knew what was happening, she was gazing at him starry eyed. His subtle seduction had worked, and in innocence, Jessie was led like a lamb to the slaughter.

Naomi, wife of Jonah, would frown and clear her throat each time her husband paid Jessie a compliment, but Jessie chose to ignore her. It was the first time since her father’s death that she felt anything but grief. With Jonah she felt special, and she was too hungry for a man’s approval to deny his attention.

Stumbling along, her mind flitted between fear and anticipation. If she had been honest, she would have stopped fantasizing about him. Unfortunately, her need was greater than her conscience.

Yesterday morning she had arrived at the barn early. It wasn’t the first time. Preferring to believe a lie to excuse her actions, she chose desire over morality. He’s teaching me to milk. That’s why he asked me to meet him in the barn. What harm can that be? Mama will be so surprised. This is a good thing. I can help her and the boys out when they get busy with planting. Deep inside, Jessie knew the real reason she went to the Thorton’s farm early. If she was forced to admit the truth, it had nothing to do with milking. She loved being alone with Jonah. His compliments, the way he lovingly touched her face, even the way he teased her, was like a tonic.

When they were alone he would look into her eyes and whisper, “Oh Jessie, my sweet Jessie. You have no idea what you do to me. If only I were married to a girl like you, life would be so happy.”

At first she would drop her eyes demurely and pretend she didn’t know what he was saying, but soon her longing to be with him, to hear the compliments, to feel special and desired, overrode her good judgment.

Remembering his words and the way he made her feel took her breath away, but she was not convinced of his sincerity and sometimes wondered if she was being played for a fool.

Pushing down the voice of conviction, she ignored the flood of shame that washed over her at the thought of Jonah’s wife, Naomi.

Frowning, she reasoned, I’m a mature woman of seventeen. I’m capable of making my own decisions. I love him and I’m sure he loves me. Naomi could never love him the way I do. Why should he have to suffer because of that woman’s hateful bitterness?

***

It was washday, as it was every Monday. Jessie struggling to carry a bucket of water from the outside pump staggered as the wind ruthlessly banged the door against her frail form. It took both hands and all the muscle she could muster to carry the five gallon pail....