The Stonecutter: A Herod Chronicles Novella (2 page)

CHAPTER
3

Mary woke with a start and sat bolt upright. Caught in the black whirlwind of a nightmare, she struggled for breath. A jumble of voices jostled and crowded around her. She clapped her hands over her ears. “I’m fine! I’m not afraid.”

The noise faded to dead quiet, and a chill breeze skidded down her sleeping gown. She pulled her heavy blanket up to her chin and breathed in the comforting smell of rose water.

“Mary,” Alexandra whispered as she sat on Mary’s bed, the fresh straw crackling under her sister-in-law’s weight. “You are safe in your own home, dear.”

Mary forced her eyes open. The soft glow from an oil lamp highlighted the worry on Alexandra's lovely face. Nathan, her mother, and her brother Timothy stood at the foot of Mary’s bed, faces wreathed with concern. Cephas, who slept on the floor off the main room with the other hired men, hovered in the open doorway, lips compressed and the muscle in his jaw flexing.

Sorry she’d caused a fuss, Mary used a firm tone. “I didn’t mean to wake the whole house. Please go back to your beds.” The family worked long days at the height of the olive harvest, and she was keeping them from much-needed rest.

She glanced at Cephas, embarrassed he’d witnessed her distress, but so taken again with his rugged handsomeness, her face heated. He stared at her for a long moment, then stepped back and disappeared into the dark.

Nathan and Timothy shuffled off to the bedchambers farther down the hall, but Alexandra remained behind. Her mother kissed Mary's forehead, then climbed back into her own bed.

Alexandra smiled down at Mary. “My babe has been extra active, and Nathan breathes a bit too loudly when he is exhausted. Would you mind if I sleep here for the rest of the night? And if it wouldn't be too tiring, I'd love to hear the story about how your father wooed Nathan's mother.”

Mary adored Alexandra, and knew she was trying to help. But Mary was a grown woman now, for heaven's sake. Was she going to wake up weeping like a terrified child for the rest of her life?

Swallowing her pride, Mary made room for Alexandra.

“Don't fret, Sweet Lamb,” her mother whispered from her corner of the room. “The boys' boisterous play caught you by surprise. That's all there was to it.”

Mary ran her hands over the thick bed cover. “Alexandra, you can't possibly want to hear that same old story again. I would rather share how father wooed you, mother.” Nathan was twelve years older than Mary, and their father had remarried her mother Rhoda a few years after Nathan's mother's death.

Alexandra stretched out beside Mary. “Nathan has the same special way about him as your father.”

“I love to listen to tales about when my Joseph was young and adventurous,” her mother said. Straight-backed and hardworking, Mary’s mother wasn’t the least sentimental, except when it came to her dear Joseph.

It was hard to believe her father had been dead for six years. Mary missed him terribly. They all did.

The light from the oil lamp wavered, casting lacy shadows on the walls. Mary coiled a lock of hair around her finger, picturing the story she had told many, many times. “When father was a young man, he became restless, and though it saddened his parents, he left the olive farm and went to live by the Sea of Galilee. Father labored for a time as a fisherman, but then he met Joanna. He loved her from the first moment he saw her across the crowded bazaar. She was working beside her merchant parents amid yellow, orange, and red silk scarves, and earthen jars filled with rich spices from Arabia...saffron, spikenard, and cinnamon. Determined to win Joanna's heart, Father would take her on short, leisurely outings on the sea and sing to her.”

Mary's heart swelled, imagining her youthful father sitting in a small wooden fishing boat, the azure blue waters of the Sea of Galilee gently lapping against the side, singing tender words of love to beautiful Joanna.

“Lo, winter is past,” Mary sang softly. “The flowers appear on the land, the time of the singing of the birds has come. Until the sun passes and the moon flees, my beloved shall be mine and I shall be hers.”

Alexandra sighed. “It is the loveliest song I have ever heard.”

Mary’s lips curved with a smile recalling the trip to Hammet with Nathan to sell olive oil. The flock of sleek birds with impossibly thin legs, strutting on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. The rocky shore. The bobbing fishing boats. So peaceful. So restful.

A shadow moved in the doorway, and Mary caught Cephas watching her from the dark recesses of the hallway. His dark eyes were intent and full of a primal quality that filled her with an unfamiliar warmth.

She swallowed, and Cephas disappeared without a sound.

The quiet, handsome stonecutter was taken with her. Why else would he be lingering nearby? A little encouragement on her part might lead to...love? Marriage?

The panic she'd worked so hard to dispel came roaring back. She didn't want to marry Cephas or any another young man from hereabouts, not if it meant living the rest of her days in Galilee.

She threw off the covers.

“Am I crowding you?” Alexandra asked.

“Not at all,” Mary said. But she felt stifled and afraid and unsure. There, she'd admitted it to herself. Though she loved her family, she was desperately unhappy. Galilee wasn't the place for her. She needed a change. A fresh start. A place free of the constant reminders of the raid on the farm and the deaths of her father and dear friends. Perhaps then the nightmares would go away.

Mary peered into the dark and laid her hand across her hot brow. Her first order of business would be to make it perfectly clear to Cephas that she wouldn’t marry him.

CHAPTER
4

Two weeks after Tabitha's funeral, Mary sat with her family, eating her morning meal in the roomy dining chamber. But the large table felt tiny thanks to Cephas's broad shoulders. She hadn’t been the only one to notice Cephas had taken an interest in her. Her mother and brothers had been going out of their way to encourage the match, such as making sure Cephas had no place to sit on the cushioned bench except next to Mary.

Mary resolutely ignored him. Already prone to silences, he hardly lifted his eyes from a plate filled with goat cheese, rye bread, and purple grapes. When he acted like this, she began to think she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, but then she would catch his watchful brown eyes following her. And they would both blush.

Her mother handed a woven basket across the table to Mary. “Ask Cephas if he would like another loaf of bread.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “He's already eaten two loaves. He couldn't possibly want more.”

A large, bronzed hand brushed her fingers and lifted the basket from her hand. “They are small loaves.”

His husky voice curled through her. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken for you.”

“You should sing more. You have a pretty voice.”

“Sing? What does that have to do with you eating bread?”

He smiled, unleashing those lethal dimples. “Nothing.”

Flustered, she scooted closer to Timothy.

“Am I taking up too much space?” Cephas asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Determined to discourage his smile, she wrinkled her nose. “Nathan is taller than you are. So is Pinhas.”

Cephas shifted, making the bench creak. “Is that so?”

Nathan laughed and thumped Cephas's shoulder. “I wouldn't want to take Cephas on in a wrestling match. He makes up in muscle what he lacks in height. Plus, everybody knows stonecutters don't fight fair.”

“There's a lot of that going around,” Cephas said.

Mary didn’t squirm, but she wanted to. Where had this sudden talkativeness come from? “May I be excused?”

Her mother nudged her foot. “Cephas will be leaving for Dabaritta soon. You ought to go for a walk together in the orchard.”

Mary wanted to hide under the table. “Cephas is welcome to take a walk, but I have other plans for the day.” That ought to stifle her mother's hopes. And Cephas's.

Her mother wiped at a spot of wine with the ever-present rag clutched in her hand. “Nathan, when the harvest is over and the olives are pressed, I want you to turn your attention to finding a husband for your sister.”

“Mother...” Mary said, mortified Cephas would have a front row seat to her mother's favorite lecture. “Do we have to discuss this now?”

Her mother shook her rag at Mary. “You've put off marriage long enough. All the girls your age have long since married. Your father wouldn't be happy with me or you.”

Mary knew her mother was correct. Everything would be different if her father was alive. A gentle soul, her father would have prodded Mary slowly but gently in the right direction. Mary didn't dare glance at Cephas. “Mother...you promised not to push.”

“I'm through with waiting for you to decide,” her mother said, stiff-backed. “Nathan and I will be sure to choose an acceptable husband.”

Mary turned to Nathan for support. “Nathan, you know none of those men will make me happy.”

“You can't put off marriage any longer,” Nathan said sympathetically.

Mary pictured Tabitha’s pale, still face, and the air backed up in her lungs. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life on a farm in the remote hills of Galilee, plagued by reminders of past and present fears and losses. “I want to go live in Hammet and marry a merchant.”

“Hammet,” her mother said on a gasp.

“This is sudden,” Nathan said.

Aware of Cephas's steady gaze, Mary swallowed. “When I went to Hammet with you last year, I met a young merchant while staying with Cousin Tal. His family owns a stall next to Cousin Tal’s, and trades in linens and other woven goods. They live in a fine house overlooking the Sea of Galilee. Andrew hinted at marriage.”

Her mother twisted the rag around her red-chapped hands. “You hardly know this young fellow. How do you know he is a good match?”

Mary had experienced a peace along the wind-swept shores she hadn’t felt anywhere, and was anxious to revisit Hammet. She and Andrew hadn’t actually spoken, but they had exchanged shy glances. She might only be stretching the truth a little—marriage proposals often arose from such humble origins. “Cousin Tal thinks highly of Andrew’s family.”

“But Hammet is so far away,” her mother protested.

Mary jumped to her feet. “I’m sure I would be happier in Hammet living with Cousin Tal than if I stayed here and married an olive farmer or a stonecutter.”

Her mother stared aghast. “You are hoping a sweet young man will row you about in a boat and confess his love like your father did when he asked Nathan's mother to marry him.”

“What's wrong with wanting to live by the sea?” Mary asked, her face heating.

Humor and dimples nowhere to be seen, Cephas tossed the uneaten loaf of bread onto his plate.

Though relieved to have finally spoken the truth aloud and revealed her plan, Mary instantly regretted her hurtful words.

“I'll be going to Hammet in a few weeks to deliver this year's oil,” Nathan said, tight-mouthed. “That gives you time to reconsider.”

Mary lifted her chin. “There is nothing to reconsider.”

Nathan frowned. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

She clasped her hands and nodded.

Her mother buried her face in the wadded rag. “Hammet? We will hardly ever see you.”

Mary reached across the table and patted her mother's arm. “Hammet is only a one-day ride away.”

Cephas rose and slipped out the back door.

Mary bit her lip and stared at the door, hating that she'd hurt his feelings. But it was for the best. Wasn't it? She pushed her doubts firmly away. Once she soothed her mother, she would find Cephas and apologize.

CHAPTER
5

An hour later, her mother's nonstop questions and worrying still ringing in her ears, Mary snapped the door shut and breathed in the refreshing morning air. The sky was bright blue overhead, the orchard alive with hired men hand-picking the ripened fruit. Mary wouldn't dare admit to her mother, but she would miss some aspects of the farm, such as the busyness and excitement of the harvest.

Summoning her courage, she headed toward the new press Cephas and Pinhas had cut from the rock behind the goat pen.

Mary approached the press with caution. The goats baaed a greeting from their pen, and chicks scurried away to hide under the wings of the golden hen pecking at the ground in the shade of the rock and mud barn.

Pinhas and Cephas were chipping the edges of one of the large stone wheels sitting on top of a giant circular basin. Pinhas laid down his hammer and chisel, and wiped his brow. “How is our Sweet Lamb today?”

She frowned and glanced at Cephas.

A streak of dirt crossed his handsome face. Sweat glistened on his thick neck. His brown eyes sparkled. “Mary is dreaming of the sea.”

Was he teasing or needling her? She couldn’t blame him, since she’d shamed him in front of the family. “I'd like to speak to you.”

Cephas shrugged. “Don't worry, you didn't damage my pride.”

She couldn't detect any hint of anger or resentment. “I didn't? But...but I thought you wanted to marry—” The words died in her mouth.

Pinhas's brows rose. “Did I miss something?”

“Mary thinks she broke my heart.”

Her face heated. “But—”

“It is probably just as well we don't marry,” Cephas said with a wink. “I don't think I'd be happy with an argumentative woman.”

Flustered, she fisted her hands in her tunic. “Why won't you take me seriously?”

Pinhas edged backward. “I'll be at the well if you need me.” Grabbing two waterskins, he hurried away.

Cephas brushed the dirt from his hands and continued to stare straight at her. “What do you want, Mary? Do you want me to take my heart out and show you its broken remains? Will that make you feel better?”

“I’m trying to apologize. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” Cephas's eyes softened. “I didn't go about things very well. I should have spoken plain about wanting to marry you.”

“We hardly know each other.”

“That's not my fault.”

“Well, you said yourself, I’m an argumentative woman.”

He grinned. “You’re feisty. I like feisty.”

Now her breath was constricted for another reason. “You do? You still want to marry me, don't you?”

“Of course I want to marry you. You are comely, quick-witted, and brave.”

“I'm not brave.”

Cephas was normally so quiet, she’d never guessed he could speak so forthrightly. If he wanted to make her question her adamant rejection of him, he'd succeeded.

He leaned against the waist-high basin of the new press and patted the white stone, inviting her to join him. “Do you want to know the day you first caught my attention?”

She shouldn't encourage him or give him false hope. She sidled closer. “I didn't know you talked this much.”

The teasing look returned. “Unlike some, I only speak when I have something worth saying.”

“You have a nice voice. Soothing as the sea.”

“The Sea of Galilee captured your heart and imagination, didn't it?”

“It was glorious.” She smiled, picturing the sun-dappled water and brilliant sunsets.

“Mary?”

She shook away the reverie. “What were we speaking of?”

He picked up his chisel and hammer. “It wasn't important.”

“Wait.” She laid her hand on his forearm. Strength and vitality pulsed through her fingers. She snatched her hand back as though scorched.

Twinkling brown eyes met hers. “Do you want to know when I knew you were the girl I would marry?”

Insides heating, she managed a nod.

“It was the day you stood up to old Bartholomew for stirring up trouble between Nathan and the folks in Rumah.”

Her face heated. She had a terrible temper, and had exercised it thoroughly that particular day. “I don't think Tabitha's grandfather really ever forgave me for raising my voice to him in front of the whole town.”

“I recall it more as yelling at the top of your lungs.”

She huffed. “Bartholomew said Nathan was a traitor and told me I could no longer visit Tabitha.”

Cephas rumbled with laughter. “Your anger on behalf of your family was glorious to behold. How could I not want to marry you?”

Speechless, she stared at him in a new light. She'd thought Cephas was like his friends and the other men who lived in the nearby villages. Good, simple,
boring men, who weren’t very interesting. But Cephas was different. Very different.

He nudged her elbow and smiled teasingly. “Don't stare with your mouth agape. It’s unbecoming.”

She blinked and snapped her mouth shut.

Pinhas and Nathan came around the corner, pushing a donkey cart brimming with olives.

She hurried away, knowing full well Cephas was wearing a big smile. She walked faster so he wouldn’t catch her smiling too.