Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents) (16 page)

Chapter 16

T
apat hurried toward the city center, where she knew Andronicus and his men would be preparing to depart for Jerusalem. At the meeting last evening, Crassus had informed her that they would begin the return journey today. Heads close together, they had discussed ways and means of reaching Andronicus with the saving grace of Elohim’s perfect love.

Crassus had impressed her with his desire to absorb everything he could about the Lord Jesus. He had sat in on the meetings every night, telling Tapat that he needed to learn as much as possible before he returned to Jerusalem.

She well understood his reasoning. He might be facing eternity in the very near future. She prayed daily that would not be so.

Last night, Jason had read from Paul’s letter to the church in Rome. Crassus had hung on every word, as had Tapat. She had never heard this letter discussed before. The one statement that had remained imbedded in her memory was what Paul had said about the Lord working all things for the good of those who love Him.

In her heart she knew that, but too often her head got in her way. It was good to be reminded of the hardships Paul had faced. Even death at the hands of Nero. Yet he had remained faithful to the very end.

Crassus had left the meeting determined to reach not only his commander with the truth of Elohim’s saving grace, but also the others in his group. She didn’t blame Crassus for his hesitancy in approaching his commander. Andronicus was an intimidating presence at the best of times. His ability to hide his feelings behind a bland mask could be very off-putting.

Despite what had passed between Andronicus and herself, Tapat couldn’t allow him to leave without wishing him Godspeed.

She found the soldiers already seated on their horses on the verge of departing and surrounded by the city’s magistrates. The lead magistrate handed Andronicus a document, and then he and the others left to attend the forum.

Andronicus looked up and saw her. She couldn’t miss the relief that passed through his eyes. Did he regret their last encounter as much as she did? If only they hadn’t stepped beyond the bounds of friendship, they could have parted as the friends they had always been.

Crassus noticed her and smiled. He dismounted and came to her, taking her hands into his and squeezing gently. “I will miss you.”

Tapat dragged her gaze away from Andronicus and focused on the young man standing before her.

“As I will you. Take care, Crassus, and may Elohim be with you.”

“And you,” he replied softly. Releasing her, he remounted and stood patiently awaiting the order to move out, but Andronicus gave no such command. Instead he walked his horse over to Tapat.

She looked up, an apology ready on her lips, but the words she was about to utter died at the look in his eyes. Her foolish heart responded to that look in a way that told her it refused to be repressed any longer.

“Amo te, mea vita,”
he said. Although she did not understand the language, his soft voice sent little thrills parading through her.

She saw his men glance at him in surprise, then quickly look away.

She frowned, ready to ask his meaning, but he continued, “May your God be with you.”

Understanding dawned. He was wishing her well. She gratefully accepted the peace offering he extended.

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to be a disgrace by bursting into tears. She was beyond frustrated at her seeming penchant lately for crying at the least provocation. What had happened to her ability to bury her feelings deep inside?

“I will pray for you,” she answered just as softly, and he gave a brief nod in acceptance of her return offering of peace.

They stared at each other several long seconds before his lips set in a grim line and he reined his horse about and dug in his heels. The others quickly turned their mounts and followed.

Tapat watched them galloping away until they were out of sight. She was too numb to cry anymore. Her life had taken so many unexpected twists and turns in the past two weeks, suffered so many losses, and she wasn’t certain how to make herself move ahead. What was she supposed to do with her life now?

She returned to her home, stood in the doorway and looked around at the little residence she had been able to purchase with the silver Andronicus had given her. It was small yet had several rooms. It had been abandoned long ago but was still in fairly good condition. As yet, she hadn’t even bothered to clean it.

She had spent every waking moment at the waterfall since giving Hazaq to his new parents; she had prayed to Elohim for hours on end before she had finally found some measure of peace. She had even forsaken the evening’s assembly of believers the past several days knowing that to see Hazaq with his new mother would undo all the harmony she had managed to achieve.

That thought alone made her shut the door once again and head to her favorite spot near the waterfall. But after her time spent here with Andronicus, that place held too many unhappy memories for her to find the tranquility she was seeking.

Instead, she decided to go and find Jason. As an elder in the church, he had his finger on the pulse of the Christian community and she was looking for a new purpose in life. The thought of being idle was anathema to her. Christ asked her to serve, and serve she would until she could do so no longer.

The Apostle Paul had told the believers to rejoice in every circumstance. That didn’t mean to be happy but to rejoice in the knowledge that whatever befell you, Christ would always be with you. Even the Apostle Peter had said that suffering would hone one’s faith.

She smiled wryly, her whole being darkened with an ache she was trying so hard to deny. Well, if suffering would increase her faith, then surely before long she would be able to move one of the surrounding mountains.

A servant let her into Jason’s house and led her to the peristyle, where she found him pottering among his flower beds.

He glanced up at her, instant sympathy creasing his elderly features. He rose and motioned her to come farther into the garden.

“Come in, child.”

She swallowed back the tears that had been hovering near the surface all morning. She had shed a river of them lately, and tears never solved anyone’s problems.

Jason offered her a seat on the bench near the fountain, then seated himself beside her.

“I understand Crassus and the others left this morning.”

She nodded, dropping her head to allow her hair to fall forward and hide the signs of distress on her face.

That he didn’t immediately answer spoke well of his wisdom. What was there to say? Surely a man of his insight had noticed her intense feelings for Andronicus.

“What can I do for you, Tapat?” he finally asked, his soft voice soothing her frayed nerves.

She focused on her fingers, twining and untwining them. “I was hoping that you might know of a way for me to do something to help the believers here.”

Several seconds passed before he said, “I see.”

And she had the distinct impression that he really did.

“Come with me,” he said, rising and holding out his hand. “Perhaps I
do
know of something.”

Tapat looked up and beheld his face, which radiated with excitement. She frowned but trustingly placed her hand into his.

Jason led her from the garden and through the atrium to the door that led onto the street, talking all the while about inconsequential trivialities. Whatever had excited him earlier he was keeping to himself.

He stopped in front of a small house in the section of the city she had learned was where most of the Christians lived. Her own house was just up the street, almost on the edge of the city.

“I want you to meet someone,” he told her, knocking on the wooden door.

A tired-looking woman answered the door as she wiped her hands on a towel. Her eyes lit up when they saw Jason.

“Jason! Welcome!”

She noticed Tapat and looked at Jason in question.

“Hello, Acta. I wanted to introduce you to Tapat and introduce her to Abigail, as well.”

A look of vexation crossed Acta’s face. Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she told him, “Go right ahead, but I must warn you, she’s in one of her moods.”

Jason smiled sympathetically, then took Tapat’s arm. He led her through the small house and into a section that had obviously been added recently. The new clay was at odds with the older, faded portion of the house, which was beginning to crumble.

Only one door was in this section. Jason knocked on it.

“Go away and leave me alone.”

The elderly female voice held a noticeable quaver, and Tapat glanced at Jason curiously. His halfhearted smile was hardly reassuring. He sighed.

“Abigail is a rather...difficult woman,” he told her quietly. Raising his voice, he called, “Abigail, it’s Jason.”

This pronouncement was followed by a long silence. Jason waited patiently until he was bidden to enter in a begrudging voice.

“Come in, if you must.”

Rather than be affronted, Jason grinned at Tapat’s raised eyebrows. “She’s quite a handful, but right now she is doing a lot of good helping those who are less fortunate.”

He opened the door and went inside, Tapat following close behind.

An elderly woman sat on a sleeping couch, her straggly gray hair flying about her head in a disorderly way. She was missing most of her teeth, which made her mouth droop in a perpetual frown.

But it was her eyes that caught Tapat’s attention. They were focused on Jason and they glowed with a pleasure she very much doubted he was aware of. There was something else in those faded brown orbs that Tapat doubted the others were aware of either; they were full of pain. It was the same look she had seen in so many others who were dying in the Valley of Lepers.

“Abigail,” Jason said softly, “I want you to meet someone.”

Suspicion suddenly flooded the old woman’s face. She turned to Tapat, the welcome expression for Jason disappearing in an instant. She frowned at Tapat.

“Who is that?”

Jason gave Tapat a reassuring smile and gently pushed her toward the bed.

“Abigail, this is Tapat. She has recently come to us from Jerusalem.”

Abigail’s eye’s opened wide at this declaration. “Jerusalem.” The word came out on a longing sigh.

Tapat went closer to the bed. “You are from Jerusalem?” she asked.

Abigail’s face went suddenly blank as she looked a long way into the past. “Many years ago.”

She was silent several moments, lost in her own memories. Jason and Tapat waited patiently until she once more became aware of their presence.

“Don’t just stand there,” she snapped. “Sit down, the both of you.”

Tapat seated herself on a small stool at the foot of the bed, and Jason took his place beside the bed on the only chair in the room. He reached out and took the old woman’s hand.

“I can’t stay, Abigail, but Tapat is looking for some way to help others in the community and I immediately thought of you and all the good work you are doing here.”

Tapat and Abigail studied each other curiously. Tapat wondered how she could help the community when it was obvious that the old woman was a cripple and in excruciating pain? It was equally obvious that those thoughts were reflected on her face and not appreciated. Abigail’s frown became fiercer, if that was possible.

Jason glanced between them and recognized the storm brewing on Abigail’s face. He hastily intervened.

“Show her, Abigail,” he suggested.

For a moment, Tapat thought she would refuse, but then Tapat smiled her most apologetic smile in hopes that the older woman would realize that she had meant no offense in her honest appraisal. “I would love to see.”

Abigail slowly pulled forth some material from beside her that Tapat hadn’t noticed; it had been hidden by the blankets on her bed. She held it out to Tapat, and Tapat could see that Abigail was carefully seaming a woolen garment. Despite her age and shaking hands, the stitches were remarkably tiny and perfect. She had put a lot of work into the garment, making it not only serviceable but also beautiful. Impressed, Tapat glanced from the garment back to Abigail.

Once again perceptively reading the look on Tapat’s face, Abigail visibly relaxed at the honest respect she saw there.

“Do you sell these?”

Jason answered for her. “No, she sews garments and gives them to the, shall we say, less affluent here.”

“Jason provides the material,” Abigail inserted, intent on making certain that credit was given where credit was due.

Tapat was surprised that a man of Jason’s age could still blush.

With instant empathy, Tapat understood; loneliness was relieved by being of service to others. How tedious it must be to be confined to a small room day in and day out, nothing to do but try to ignore the increasing pain that age was forcing on the body. The longing for companionship was evident in Abigail’s fading brown eyes.

The ache in Tapat’s heart lessened in light of this revelation. She looked from Jason to Abigail. “How can I be of help? Although I can sew, my stitches would be ashamed to be seen in the presence of such skill.”

Abigail sat up straighter, her chest puffing out at the praise.

Jason chuckled. “Abigail would be able to accomplish much more if she had someone to be her legs.”

“My son is too busy with his own tailor business, and my daughter-in-law...” She hesitated at the look of reproach that Jason gave her, but Tapat hadn’t missed the bitterness in her voice. “My daughter-in-law is too busy with her housekeeping.”

Tapat got up from the stool and went and sat next to Abigail on the bed. She felt drawn to this old woman who helped others despite her own adversity. Jason stood and, looking down on both of them, gave them a beatific smile.

“I have some business that I need to attend to, so I will leave you two to get better acquainted.” He squeezed Abigail’s frail hand. “Tapat will bring you more supplies later. A caravan passed by a few days ago and I was able to purchase some wonderful material they had brought from the East.”

Gratitude shone from the old woman’s eyes, but she merely nodded.