Rachel (41 page)

Somehow she must. She would speak to Jacob this night. She would make him see that Dinah must marry, as her mother had made her father see that she too must marry when he agreed to give her to Jacob in Rachel’s place.

Rachel forced herself up from bending over the clay pot, the contents of the morning meal now filling it. She shuddered,
wiped her mouth with a linen towel, and crawled to her mat, a hand pressed to her middle as she lay back. The queasy feeling passed several moments later. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, pondering the changes her body had undergone in the past few months. Jacob, though he had guessed the truth with Joseph before she had, did not suspect. And this time, after so many years of waiting, she feared being wrong. What if her symptoms were simply the result of an overwrought mind?

She rose from her mat, half longing for the raised cushioned bed she had used in Succoth, quickly fixed her disheveled scarf, and walked slowly from her tent. Jacob’s household, his servants and wives and children, moved past her toward the clearing at the rise of a nearby hill where Jacob had called them, to an altar he had set up. She wrapped her robe more tightly around her and fell into step with Leah, trailing behind her daughter.

“Dinah said you wanted to see me.” Leah glanced at her, sizing her up as though she already knew. “You are sick?”

“I think it is more than that.” Rachel kept her voice low, her gait slowing. “I haven’t told Jacob yet.”

Leah nodded, and the two walked in silence until they neared the rise of the hill, the altar clearly visible from where they stood, the rest of the household gathered around the perimeter.

“Is there a reason you are waiting?” Leah met Rachel’s gaze, her pale eyes holding a hint of compassion.

“I wanted to be sure. After all this time . . .” She looked away, ashamed of the tears rising up the back of her throat. She swallowed. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “It’s been so long.”

Leah touched her shoulder. “I am sure you have nothing to fear. But of course every birth brings uncertainties. It is natural for a woman to feel as you do.” Her tone was gentle, reassuring, putting Rachel’s mind at ease.

“You think so?”

Leah embraced her, a spontaneous action so unexpected they both laughed as they pulled away. “You must tell Jacob soon,
of course.” Leah smiled, and Rachel saw no guile or even a hint of jealousy in her gaze.

“Thank you.” She brushed a stray tear from her cheek and turned to the sound of Jacob’s voice giving thanks to Adonai as he spilled the blood of the sacrifice and lit the fire on the altar.

Smoke rose to the heavens, and Jacob’s voice rang out over the assembled camp. “This altar shall be called El Elohe Israel, God, the God of Israel.”

Rachel listened as he extolled Adonai’s praises, recounting the things He had done for them since the day Jacob met Him at Bethel over thirty years before. When he finished, he prayed for forgiveness, for mercy on them all.

Rachel placed a hand on her middle over the place where a new life formed.
Oh,
Adonai, have mercy also on this child that I carry.
Let him be healthy and let him live to please
his father.

When the gathering dismissed, she returned to the camp. Tonight, when Jacob came to her, she would tell him.

Leah waited for Jacob to finish speaking to his steward, telling Rachel she would join her for the weaving after she had spoken to him of her concerns for Dinah. Rachel had nodded her understanding. Through the years, when Leah had fretted over Dinah’s restless ways, Rachel had assured her the girl was just spirited and longed for adventure. Much like Rachel had been in her youth. Rachel had put her mind at ease on more than one occasion.

But this was not a time for commiserating over a young girl’s desires. Dinah needed a husband, and only her father could make that happen. Surely Jacob would see this. He was not as blind as her father had been or so greedy that he would make them wait. Surely.

She smoothed her hands over her robe, suddenly nervous to approach him. But at last his steward departed, leaving Jacob
alone. Leah climbed the hill to meet him, knowing it would take him time even with the aid of his staff to come down the hill to her level.

“Leah.” He smiled at her, his look welcoming. “What can I do for you?” He lifted the staff and motioned for her to walk with him, taking the path with the lower incline.

“I must speak with you about Dinah.” She studied the path before her, glancing his direction once as she spoke. “It is time we found a husband for her.”

He paused in the path, leaning heavily on his staff. “She is only fourteen.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw.

“Fourteen is old enough to bear children, my lord. She has been nubile for over a year.”

He seemed startled by this revelation and looked beyond her as if seeing a different time and place. “You were much past her age when we wed, Leah. She has plenty of years to mature.” He touched her shoulder, and she looked into his dark eyes, searching.

“I do not think it wise for us to wait, Jacob.” She twisted the belt at her waist and sighed. “She needs a home and children to settle her.”

He looked at her for several moments, saying nothing. At last he nodded. “I will consider it.” He touched her elbow, continuing their walk down the hill.

It was all she could do.

Sunset fell like autumn leaves over the camp as Rachel set the last dish to dry on the woven mat inside her tent. She straightened, pressing a hand to the small of her back, longing desperately for sleep. But Jacob waited for her inside his tent, and tonight she would tell him her news. She had thought to tell him the week before, but he had been too distracted with the business of the flocks and herds and the men from the city coming
to invite him to the Festival of Virgins. Jacob had graciously declined, though some of his sons had argued with him afterward about going. He had sent them to the fields with the sheep to keep them from following the pagan pleasures.

Rachel did not know who was more relieved, herself or Leah, that Jacob had made such a swift decision. With Leah’s sons either already men or on the cusp of manhood, it was no wonder some were anxious to marry. But not that way. Not with pagan women.

She shook the thoughts aside, grateful that Joseph had not been among those asking for such a thing. God had given her a good son, a son who followed in the footsteps of his father, a son who carried his father’s favor. The thought pleased her. Though sometimes worry slipped in when she compared Jacob’s treatment of Joseph to that of Leah’s sons. Would Joseph one day suffer for such favor the way Jacob had done, when she was no longer there to protect him?

She shivered, dispelling the very idea, and moved from her tent to walk the short distance to where Jacob waited. Stars began their evening dance, taking turns brightening the sky. She glanced up.
So shall your
offspring be
, God had promised Jacob.

He smiled at her approach and took her hand, drawing her into his tent. “Your hands are cold,” he said, wrapping his fingers more fully around hers.

“Are they?” She stepped closer and kissed his cheek. “I had not noticed.”

His gaze swept over her, and he touched her nose with a soft kiss. “I’ve missed you. I am sorry to have stayed away so long.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “But I am here now.”

They stood in silence for several moments until at last he pulled her into the sitting area and settled her among the cushions she had made. He drew a flask of wine from a basket, poured
two silver cups, and handed her one. She sipped, then ran her finger over the rim and looked at him, a smile touching her lips.

“What is it?” He had always been so observant of her moods. “Something has pleased you, beloved. Tell me.” He swirled the liquid in his cup, watching her.

“I have something to tell you.” She glanced away, suddenly shy. It had been so long since the last time. What if something happened to the babe? Though none of her sister wives had ever miscarried, there was always the chance.

He set their cups down and moved closer, encasing her hands in his own. “It is good news?” His boyish smile made her laugh.

“Yes, of course it’s good news!” She traced the line of his beard along his jaw. “The best of news, Jacob.” Her words were soft, a caress.

His hand moved to her waist and rested there. Her stomach fluttered at his touch, and the look of love in his gaze dispelled all her misgivings. The babe would be fine. She had nothing to fear.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his smile wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “And when will he come?”

“What makes you so sure it will be a boy?”

He pulled her close and kissed her softly, tenderly, possessively. “Because it will be,” he said against her ear. “But if it is not, then she will grow up to be a princess of greatest beauty like her mother.”

His kisses trailed along her jaw until he found her lips once more. His breath was warm, minty, and when he gazed into her eyes, her breath hitched. His dark eyes searched hers, reading into her thoughts, reminding her in a moment all that they had shared. He had loved her with a passion she had never quite grasped, and in the way he looked at her now, she knew that love had never abated. The strength of it weakened her even as his kiss silenced every fear.

God would give him twelve sons, saving the last to come through her. She was indeed blessed.

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