Rebekah (24 page)

Rebekah turned back, reading worry in Selima’s gaze. “What is it?”

Selima’s face flushed several shades of red, and Rebekah did not need her to speak to know what had entered her mind. She closed the gap between them. “You have nothing to fear. Haviv is a good man.”

Selima nodded, but when she did not speak after several moments, Rebekah turned toward camp again. “Come. Isaac is going to announce your wedding at the morning meal.”

She glanced back and smiled at Selima’s stricken look. This was a good decision. It was time Selima had a man to please instead of her own wild imaginings. The reality would be nothing like what she had dreamed of in her infatuation with handsome and wealthy men.

It was time the girl faced that fact.

Isaac found Nadab still abed long after dawn had risen in the sky. He bent to rouse him and was greeted with a groan and a muttered curse. “Let me sleep.” But as the man opened his eyes, he seemed to think better of his words. “Forgive me, my lord.” He pushed himself to sit up, quickly closing his eyes again, and put a hand to his head. “Is it morning already?”

“How much wine did you drink last night?” Isaac glanced around the tent, looking for a jar of water and a cloth to dip in it to ease the man’s headache, but the tent was sparsely furnished and the jar nearly empty.

“Not much.” Nadab let his head flop back on the cushion and raised an arm over his eyes. “Am I late for something?”

Isaac sat back on his heels, studying the younger man. Nadab had always been the reckless sort, and perhaps more hotheaded than he should be. How well would he take the news Isaac was about to deliver?

“I need you to arise and shake the stupor from your head.” Isaac walked to one of the tent walls and lifted the sides just enough to let light filter inside. He turned back to Nadab, relieved that the man was at last sitting up.

“You have come to a decision.” Nadab’s tone held resignation. “You are giving her to Haviv.”

Isaac squatted at Nadab’s side, searching the man’s beleaguered expression. “Yes.”

Nadab ran both hands over his face and shook his head as though trying to clear it. “I should have known. Haviv always gets his way.”

“She is better suited to Haviv.”

Nadab stared, unblinking. “You cannot know that.”

Isaac stood, turning his back to Nadab. “You do not love her as Haviv does.”

Silence followed the remark, and Isaac faced Nadab again, but Nadab would not meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Nadab’s tone did not hold its usual respect. Definitely time to send him to his father.

“I am sending you to my father’s camp for a time. You will serve him until we can work things out between you and your brother.”

Isaac offered a hand to pull Nadab to his feet, but he refused it. He rose of his own accord and walked to the chest where the nearly empty water jug sat, poured a small stream into his palm, then splashed the water onto his face and beard. He shook his head, letting the small droplets fly where they would, and faced Isaac again.

“What if I do not want to go?”

His eyes held a glint of something Isaac had not seen in him before. Resignation, yes, but resentment also lingered in the narrowed eyes and the slight clenching of the chiseled chin.

“Go anyway. Let your father seek a wife for you, and then we will discuss your return.”

Nadab stepped away from Isaac and crossed both arms over his chest. “I do not need my father’s help in choosing a wife. I am capable of choosing a wife on my own.”

Isaac looked at his overseer and lifted a brow. “You might want to rethink those words.”

Nadab’s gaze still held defiance, but when Isaac did not flinch or look away, he at last lowered his head. “Forgive me, my lord.”

Isaac watched the man for a moment. His rigid posture, despite the bowed head, belied the sincerity of his words. But Isaac chose to ignore what wasn’t said. “Do as I ask and go to Hebron. Speak to your father and marry a wife. Things will improve when you do.”

He turned and walked out of the tent, hoping Nadab was quick to obey his words.

The week ended with a sense of excitement. Saddlebags were packed, and Rebekah gave Selima last-minute instructions on caring for the household in her absence. “Don’t let the servants grow lax in their work. The men still need feeding, and the garments still need to be finished for the Syrian caravan that should come through within the month.” She touched Selima’s arm. “I am counting on you and Haviv to keep things in order.”

Selima’s color heightened at the mention of Haviv’s name, and she glanced toward the donkeys, where Isaac spoke with the girl’s new husband. She nodded, her eyes wide with too
much responsibility, and Rebekah feared the girl was still too young and inexperienced to handle all that was required of her in their absence.

“I will do all that you have said, mistress. I won’t let you down.” Selima’s eyes took on a dreamy expression as she glanced once more in Haviv’s direction.

“Marriage suits you well,” Rebekah said, trying to draw the attention back to the task at hand. Perhaps she should leave Deborah with her daughter after all, to oversee things. But Isaac had been insistent that if Haviv should be his chief overseer, Selima must learn to do her part at his side.

Selima looked back at Rebekah and gave a sheepish grin. “Haviv is so wonderful. I cannot believe I am so blessed!”

Rebekah stifled the urge to sigh, suddenly wanting to hurry and leave. She grew weary of Selima’s exuberance and the way she always managed to bring any conversation around to focus on herself. Perhaps in time Selima would mature.

Rebekah looked at her maid and forced a smile. “We will be back within the month. I will expect a full accounting of all that I have given you to do. Do you understand?” She hated talking down to the girl but at the same time wondered if anything she had said was getting through to her.

“Oh yes, I understand, mistress. I will do all that you have said. When you return, all will be well.”

Selima looked so hopeful that Rebekah nodded, praying that her trust in her was not misplaced.

The journey took two days. Abraham’s camp at Hebron came into view the morning of the third day as the sun fully crested the eastern ridge of the earth. Isaac stepped beside her and helped her dismount, then tied her donkey securely to one of the surrounding tree branches. He moved to walk into the camp but paused when she placed a restraining hand on his arm.

“What is it?” His look held concern, and she stepped closer, slipping her arm in his.

“I don’t know. I’m . . .” She glanced toward the camp, where the sounds of women and children mingled with the scent of smoke from the fire. “What if Eliezer cannot find a wife for Nadab? And what if Haviv and Selima don’t manage well without us? If Keturah does not control her sons, I don’t know if I will be able to hold my peace. And—”

The words rushed out of her, but he placed a restraining finger on her lips. “Hush now. Slow down.” He smiled, patting her arm. “You did not tell me you had so many worries about our visit. And here I thought I was the only one who wanted to throttle Keturah’s sons.” He laughed, and she joined him.

“She is not raising them well, and that is the truth of it.” Rebekah sighed and glanced around, afraid one of them might be within earshot even now. She rose on tiptoe to reach his ear and whisper, “Do you suppose your father is too old to notice?”

Isaac kissed her cheek and leaned close. “Probably. In the future they will not be near to trouble us, so he probably does not think that his wife’s teachings will make much difference.”

“But surely he teaches them of Adonai.” From what little she knew of her father-in-law, she could not imagine him neglecting that truth.

Isaac nodded, straightening. “He does. But he does not have the stamina to teach the things he ought. The sacrifices mean little to a boy who always gets his way.”

She looked into his eyes, held captive by the intensity in his gaze, and knew that despite his mother’s doting, Isaac had not been spoiled like Keturah’s sons.

“You will make a good father.” Her heart yearned toward him in that moment. Could he read the love in her expression? How she wished she could give him the news that he would be thus blessed.

He bent low, his lips hovering over hers, his dark eyes probing. “And I could pick no better woman to bear me sons.” He kissed her, a gentle touch that lingered until she felt herself melt in his arms. He slowly pulled back, the fire igniting in his gaze. “How you tempt me, dear wife.” He smiled, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I wish we could spend every moment together. I would leave everyone else to be with you.”

She knew in that instant how much she wished he would agree. To escape the men and women in both camps, to go together into the wilderness and be everything to each other. They would need no other. She would fulfill his every desire, and he would be all she needed.

He looked at her, and she sensed he would not soon forget her words. “We will visit the wilderness soon, beloved.”

“Just the two of us?” A little thrill rushed through her.

He smiled. “Just the two of us.”

 20 

Rebekah’s arms ached from working the millstone, the pain and stiffness moving to her neck and back. She tuned out Keturah’s endless chatter and wished for the hundredth time that the woman would stuff a date in her mouth and be quiet, or go off with her unruly sons into the fields to glean the wheat. Instead she had chosen to stay with Rebekah and Lila to grind the threshed wheat and prepare the bread for the evening meal.