Martha (6 page)

 9 

Ephraim was weak and stayed on his pallet many days as Martha brought him nourishing soup to give him strength. Lazarus worked in the village on two houses that needed bricks replaced and also spent time in their field. Mary kept watch over her father and played her lyre for him when he asked. Martha went about her chores, but from time to time was distracted by a scarred face with deep blue eyes that seemed to appear in her thoughts at unexpected moments. She chided herself, knowing she must not see him again. He was a Gentile and she kept a kosher home. There was no way their worlds could or should cross.

That Sabbath, Ephraim could not rise from his pallet, and the family moved into his small room as Lazarus led the Sabbath prayers with his father merely nodding his head. Lazarus and Mary went with Nathan to Jerusalem to celebrate the Sabbath, but Martha stayed behind to watch over her father.

When the family returned and Ephraim again slept, Mary offered to stay with him and Martha slipped out to walk to the Mount of Olives. With so many things on her mind, she sought solace for her worries in Gethsemane.

As she sat under a tree, praying for her father, she was aware of someone nearby, hidden by the trees. Her hand went to her mouth as fear gripped her heart. She was alone. Was she in danger? She'd never felt fear in this place before; it had been a sanctuary. But now she realized how foolish she was to be here with no one around to hear her cries should she be assaulted.

She rose quickly, prepared to run for her life, and at that moment a deep voice stopped her.

“Do not be afraid, Martha. It is only me, Captain Flavious. I didn't mean to startle you.”

She turned to see him walking quietly toward her. To her surprise, she felt no fear, only a sense of gladness.

“Do you come here often?” His voice was soft now, and gentle.

“Yes, usually on Sabbath afternoons, when I cannot do work at home.” She frowned, puzzled. “How did you know I was here?”

He laughed. “To tell you the truth, I didn't. When I was assigned to Jerusalem, I sought a place away from the barracks to think, and pray.”

“You pray here to your Roman gods?”

He shook his head. “No, I pray to the one God, Jehovah.”

She looked at him closely, wondering if he was telling the truth. “You are a Godfearer?”

“Yes. My mother was Jewish and taught me about him when I was little. My father was Roman, and while he did not believe, he allowed her to speak of those things to me.”

He glanced around as did Martha, but the trees hid them from prying eyes.

“Would you like to sit down?” He indicated a grassy knoll.

She shook her head, suddenly self-conscious. “I must go. It is nearly the end of the Sabbath.”

“Yes, I see that it is. May I talk with you again sometime?”

Her thoughts flew. She should not see him again, even if he was a Godfearer, but she knew she wanted to. “Perhaps the next Sabbath?”

He studied her face and she felt herself leaning toward him, but caught herself in time.

“Perhaps the next Sabbath,” he replied softly.

He strode away through the trees toward Jerusalem, and she watched his tall figure until he was out of sight. What was she doing? She had told him that she would possibly see him again. She walked quickly toward her home, nodding a greeting to a neighbor on the way. Did the woman look at her strangely? Was she imagining things? Martha pulled her shawl closer around her face.

Ephraim remained on his bed all week, for Anna had done her best, but there was no change in his condition. After an inner struggle, the next Sabbath afternoon, Martha left him in Mary's loving care and announced she needed to take a walk. She ignored the question in Mary's eyes and hurried out the gate. Her heart pounded as she entered the olive grove. Captain Flavious was waiting.

They walked slowly through the trees, and she marveled how at ease she felt with him.

“You are not married.” It was a simple statement rather than a question.

“No. How did you know?”

He grinned, looking almost boyish. “I have my sources. You chose to take care of your family.”

“How long have you been in the Roman army?”

“Almost twenty years to rise to my present rank. My oldest brother inherited the estate of my father, and it was suggested that my second brother and I join the military. My father was a general, serving in Rome. This is to be my last outpost. I plan to retire to a small villa my father left me in Cyprus.”

Too soon their time together was ending. “May I call you Martha? My given name is Thaddeus. I reserve that for . . . friends.” He gazed at her earnestly. “Because of my mother, I know your customs. I don't wish to make any trouble for you, but I look forward to another Sabbath and talking with you. You are a very brave woman and have given up much for your family.”

He held a small twig between his fingers and broke it as he gazed out toward Bethany. “I was betrothed once. She decided against the life of a soldier's wife and returned to her family.”

A shadow crossed her heart. “Are you still betrothed, Thaddeus?”

“No, she broke our betrothal and married another. They have two children. It was for the best. I was away from home more than I was there.”

The fact that he was not married caused a small fluttering in her breast. “When will you leave the army?”

“The end of the year.” He smiled at her. “At least that was my plan. Now I find a certain woman may cause me to delay.” His eyes searched her face. “Could I hope that in spite of our different backgrounds . . .” He took a breath. “From the moment I met you in the road to Bethany, there has been something between us. I felt it and I know you felt it too. Since my mother is Jewish, I am considered a Jew, but due to the fact my father is Roman and has great standing with the Roman army, I became a soldier, but I had to fight my way up the ranks.” He smiled ruefully. “I tell you this for selfish reasons, hoping to persuade you to consider me . . .”

“As a friend?” She interrupted, afraid of what he would say next, yet eager to hear the words.

He smiled then and his eyes searched hers. “Yes, for now. I am not young, Martha. While I do not have a great deal to offer, when I am able to leave the army I shall have a small pension, the villa, and also a monthly stipend from my father. It would be an adequate income for a family to live on . . .”

She looked away toward Jerusalem for a long moment. Then she faced him. “Do you know what that would mean for me?”

He nodded. “To be separated from one's family and possibly ostracized by friends and neighbors, perhaps even family. Yes, I know, but nevertheless, I can hope.”

She was never one to hide her feelings. As she gazed at his face, a door opened in her heart. She felt light inside, and for a moment, the obstacles between them seemed as feathers to be brushed away. Then she sighed. Reality was another thing.

She put a hand on his arm. “Let us be friends for now, Thaddeus. I find my mind whirling with many thoughts and I must sort them out. There is something between us, but it has happened so quickly.”

He nodded sagely and spoke softly. “I won't rush you. Until next Sabbath . . . Martha.”

“Until next Sabbath . . . Thaddeus.”

He turned and strode quickly into the trees.

She dawdled on her way home, her mind in turmoil as her heart and her sense of duty warred within her. Would she go to the grove next Sabbath? With a sigh, she knew she would. And what would she say?

“Oh God, have mercy on me and give me wisdom. I don't know what to do.” She needed to work; it was her solace. She must keep her thoughts from flying in foolish directions.

The weeks in between Sabbaths seemed an eternity. She hoped the family would put her obvious distraction down to her concern for her father. With Esther gone, there was no one she dared share her secret with, and it burned within her.

That Sabbath, when she reached the olive grove, she looked anxiously about. Then in a moment, Thaddeus was there. Only her strong will kept her from flinging herself into his arms. They sat in a shady spot, careful not to sit too near, for she sensed his longing was as tangible as hers.

“It goes well with you, Martha?”

“It goes well.” Where could she begin to voice what had grown so quickly from bud to flower within her heart? The conversation was mundane. He talked of the army and she of the events in their village. Whenever she happened to glance up and meet his eyes, they drew her into their depths, and with effort, she looked away.

“Martha, my time in Jerusalem draws to a close. I've learned I may be sent back to Rome to prepare for separation from the army. I have a few weeks at most. I would give you time, a year if I could, to think of these things, but I must speak now. I know that in the eyes of your village, you are past the age of marriage . . .”

Her chin lifted. “Do you pity me, Thaddeus?”

“No, my beloved, for that is what you are to me. I see a woman with strength and courage . . . and beauty. I would offer you marriage, and a villa in Cyprus where we could raise a family. As I told you before, I am able to provide for you.” He leaned toward her. “I do not want to return there alone.”

He thought her beautiful. She was touched beyond words. It was her last chance for marriage and children . . . and he loved her. Still she hesitated.

Her voice was almost a whisper. “You ask at great cost, Thaddeus.”

“You would not be mistreated as a Jewess on Cyprus, beloved.”

“Your offer brings joy to my heart, but my father needs me right now. I cannot leave him for this. It would break his heart.”

His shoulders sagged as he nodded. “I understand, but I will hope—until they order me to Rome.”

She searched his face and realized how dear he was to her. She could not ask him to wait forever.

As if reading her thoughts, he took a step closer. “I will wait a little longer.”

They seemed to move toward each other as one, and as his strong arms closed about her, she felt as if she could stay there forever. She laid her head against his shoulder, feeling the strength of his body. He seemed to sigh and, with reluctance, put her away from him. He smiled down at her upturned face and brushed her forehead with a light kiss.