Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) (34 page)

She chewed slowly, her thoughts wandering, and glanced up at the sound of footsteps. Sarai stood near Abram, her back straight, her gaze brittle.

“What is she doing here?” Sarai did not point or even look Hagar’s way, her tone matching the anger in her eyes.

Silence followed the remark, and Eliezer stood, excusing himself. Hagar thought to do the same but was stricken to the spot.

“Are you going to answer me, husband?”

Hagar sucked in a breath, surprised at Sarai’s accusing tone. It was bold for a wife to publicly chastise her husband, and Hagar suddenly did not want to be in the middle of this marital quarrel. She stood, ready to flee, but Abram stayed her with a hand on her arm.

“She is here because I invited her.” He looked at Hagar. “But perhaps she would sit here instead.” He motioned to the seat Eliezer had just left, his tone pleasant but cool. Hagar’s heart thumped faster as she moved to do his bidding. She glanced at Sarai, but the woman did not meet her gaze.

“Please tell your concubine not to sit in my place again.” Sarai lifted her chin, gave Abram a stern look, then turned abruptly and stormed across the compound toward her tent.

Abram would go after Sarai. Surely he would go.

But as the moments passed and the rising sun cast better light over the dusky camp, he did not move. At last he turned to her, his jaw working as though struggling with what to say.

“Did you seek something from me, Hagar?” Of course, he would expect she wanted him for a purpose or had some important news to tell him. Why else would she have sought him out before the dawn fully crested the sky?

She looked quickly around her, determining who might be listening. “Could we walk a short way, my lord?” Sudden shyness came over her, and she could not meet his gaze.

He paused but a moment. “Of course.” He stood and extended his hand.

She placed her smaller one in his, a blush creeping up her neck as she finally looked into his eyes. “Thank you.”

They walked past the circle of tents toward the fields where Abram’s many flocks grazed. He stopped near the first set of sheep pens and turned to face her. He grasped one of her hands and lifted her chin.

“What is it you wish to tell me, Hagar?” A dim sense of what she could only surmise as hope flickered in his dark brown eyes.

She swallowed, then smiled. “I am with child.” She quickly lowered her gaze, feeling the heat creep from her neck to her cheeks. “I have not confirmed it with the midwife yet, but I am certain . . . There are signs.” She looked up again and suddenly realized he had never experienced a pregnant wife. The shock on his face made her laugh for joy.

“I am without words.” A broad smile lit his face, brightening his eyes. “And yet there is so much to ask you. You must see the midwife at once, of course. Sarai will be most pleased.”

She masked the pain Sarai’s name brought to her heart, reminding herself that Sarai would adopt this child and claim it as her own. She was still but a slave in Sarai’s estimation, after all. No matter what Abram thought of her, she could never undo that fact.

“I understand, of course. But I wanted you to know first.” She squeezed Abram’s hand still holding hers. “It is a blessing of your God, is it not? He has smiled on us.” She was not sure why she pressed him, but a part of her begged him to notice her for who she was, not to see her simply as Sarai’s maid.

He glanced beyond her for too long, and she knew she had asked the wrong question. When he looked at her again, he smiled, then pulled her close until her head rested against his chest. “You have done us a great favor, Hagar, and Adonai has surely smiled on us. This child will be destined for great things and blessed of Adonai.”

She felt his kiss on the top of her head as he hugged her, but though she sensed his desire to comfort her, the attempt failed. She meant nothing to him other than a woman to carry his child. He did not love her. Perhaps he was not capable of loving more than one woman.

“Great things, yes.” She choked on the words.

He held her at arm’s length and searched her face. “I am sorry, Hagar. This will not be easy for you, giving your son to another woman to raise—”

“Our son, my lord.” That she dared interrupt him startled them both, but after a pause, he merely nodded.

“Our son, yes.” His smile grew broad again. “You have filled my heart with gladness today, Hagar.” He bent his lips to hers and gave her a chaste kiss.

His action stirred something in her, and despite the risk, she threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with a passionate one of her own. A little thrill passed through her that he responded in kind. When he finally released her, he laughed, the spark returning to his eyes.

“My own little temptress,” he whispered, slipping an arm around her waist. “Come, I will walk with you to the tent of the midwife, then you must make sure of your suspicions before I tell Sarai.” He moved ahead, guiding her to follow. “I will spare you that difficulty.”

Her heart lightened, losing the sharp pain of before. Perhaps he cared for her at least a small amount. Enough to protect her from Sarai’s jealousies, which were already evident from the first night she’d spent in Abram’s arms. He would protect her and perhaps in time learn to love her. For the sake of their son.

Their son. Not Sarai’s.

Abram lifted the flap and stepped into the lamplight of Sarai’s tent. The midwife had confirmed Hagar’s suspicions, filling Abram with a mingled sense of joy and uncertainty. The news should ease Sarai’s misery and bring her some measure of happiness. She had planned this thing, and Adonai had answered her prayers. The thought made him pause. Had this been Adonai’s plan? Abram had always thought Sarai would be the one to bear the promised child, that God meant the promises for both of them. But surely Sarai had a point. Perhaps Hagar’s son would indeed be the one to fulfill all that God had said would come.

Bolstered by that thought, he smiled as he came upon Sarai, where she sat with her mending. She looked up, but her expression remained stoic, withdrawn.

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with
her
?”

The sentiment in her tone cooled Abram’s blood. All previous assumptions that she would be pleased with his forthcoming news vanished.

“Is that any way to greet your husband?” He moved closer into the room and sat at her side. He took the mending from her, set it aside, and enfolded her hand in his. “Would it not be better to tell me how glad you are to see me? Even a gentle lie would please me more than knowing my wife prefers her own company to mine.” He smiled again, lifting her chin until her eyes held his.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” This time she returned his smile. “I always enjoy your company to my own.” Her gaze skittered beyond him. “I only thought . . . that is . . .” She met his gaze again. “Until she conceives, you should be with her, not me.” He felt her tense beside him even as he drew a line along her jaw.

“Well, you no longer have to worry about that, dear wife. Hagar is already with child, so you can no longer be rid of me so easily.” He wanted to laugh, longing to see his joy mirrored in her eyes, but held himself in check when her expression did not share his emotion.

“Already?” She pulled away from him and wrapped both arms over her chest, a self-protective gesture he’d seen her use many times over the years. “Why did she not come to me at once? She told you first?” Her incredulous tone held a hint of anger, matching the spark now evident in her dark eyes.

“She senses you are not pleased with her, Sarai. She has done nothing but what you asked, yet you seem to resent her intrusion into our marriage.”

“Only because she has tried to take you from me. I see the way she walks, swaying her hips in full light of day, and looking at you as though she has a right to usurp my authority. You invited her to my place during the meal! What else am I to think of her but an intruder? She is that and more.” Sarai’s words flew at him like sharp barbs.

“You invited her to my bed.”

She startled at that, and tears filled her eyes. His heart constricted at the sight. Sarai was not a woman given to frequent tears, so whenever they surfaced, they moved him to pity. Of course, it had not been easy to share him, the man she had known all her life. He was a fool to think otherwise.

“I’m sorry, beloved. I will never again put her in your place, at a meal or anywhere else.” He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, letting her weep. Was this how it was going to be then? One wife sorely jealous of the maid who carried his child—the child they had longed for, waited for, prayed for?

Had he prayed for this child?

A check in his spirit made him suddenly uncomfortable, but he brushed it aside. Of course they had prayed. Years had passed and their prayers had seldom ceased.

He patted Sarai’s back, wishing he had words with which he could comfort her. At last she quieted and leaned away from him.

“I’m happy for you, my lord. The child proves what I had feared all along. Adonai meant the promises for you and your children. He said nothing about including me in that promise. At least now we know.” She looked at him, her eyes so full of pain he felt his heart constrict again.

He cupped her cheek with his palm, smoothing his thumb along her jaw. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, beloved. You know the child will still be yours. Hagar is but a maid, after all.”

She nodded, then swiped at her eyes, her expression changing from sorrow to something akin to hope. “I will be there for his birth. I will hold him on my knees.” She smiled, but her lower lip trembled as though she was trying valiantly to warm to the thought. “We will need to begin sewing garments for him at once. Only wool from the best of your flocks, Abram. Nothing too harsh. And Hagar must share my tent in the early days until he is weaned, so I can be there for the feedings . . . for everything.”

Abram studied her, seeing in her the resolve he’d grown so accustomed to, relieved to see the pain slowly slip from her, replaced by something resembling his joy. He squeezed her hand in his and bent to kiss her.

“We will have a son, Sarai. A child of my flesh at last!” He knew the last words were probably best left unsaid, but he could not keep from her the pride he felt. A father. As Eliezer was. As his father had been. And one day, a father of a nation.

“We will have a son,” she echoed, and he knew her light tone was meant to appease him.

“Now come. Let us get Hagar and call the men and women together. It is time to celebrate.” He pushed to his feet and offered her his hand, pulling her to him.

“Should we not wait until morning? Dusk has settled, and some of the men may already sleep.”

He read her uncertainty, saw the puffiness around her eyes. “Of course, you are right. We will celebrate tomorrow morning when the day is fresh.” He took her in his arms and kissed her again. “In the meantime, get some wine and perfume your bed. Tonight will be ours alone.”

Her chest lifted in a sigh, and she nodded, turning from him to do his bidding. But as she left his side, he could not help but wonder what would become of their marriage in the days to come.

29

Hagar awoke with the familiar nausea, barely making it to the clay urn before losing what remained of last night’s supper. She leaned back, sweat beading her brow. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of voices approaching her tent.