Love Inspired Historical March 2014 Bundle: Winning Over the Wrangler\Wolf Creek Homecoming\A Bride for the Baron\The Guardian's Promise (82 page)

Chapter Nineteen

T
he batter sizzled as Mira poured it into a pan over the fire. Although it made her heart glad to have her hands busy, she would have much preferred something more taxing on her mental faculties. Her mind continued to wander to Ari.

She flipped the cake, taking note of the perfect golden hue, just like Ari preferred them. Ari, Ari, Ari. She thought of him much more than she should.

Mira shook her head. She had always thought of Ari, but where her thoughts once considered how to thwart his efforts when he helped her with her chores, they now moved to pleasing him with perfect cakes. Of course, those thoughts were interrupted by the renewed sensation of her hand wrapped in his. A simple, breathtaking, touch of the lips.

Heat flooded her cheeks. Incidents like that would not be repeated. She would ensure they never spent another moment alone. No more. Not even a peck on the cheek in greeting. Nothing.

“Is that cake mine?”

She squeaked. Her eyes widened in horror at the smell of charred cake. She hesitated to flip it over knowing it would not be the perfect golden-brown, but as dark as the tunnels they had traveled through for the better part of the day.

Ari moved his plate toward her. She pursed her lips wondering if she should toss it away or place it on his plate. If she tossed it aside she would have to admit that she hadn't been paying attention to the task Ari's mother had given her. She smiled, scooped it up and plopped it onto his plate, golden-brown side up.

She poured another helping of batter into the oil and watched as Ari sat his plate on the leather table beside the other men. Lydia set a bowl of figs and grapes in the center, along with a jug of water.

“We have only another two miles before we reach Manna.” Elam's gravelly tone interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes, but it is over narrow mountain paths. And we would be walking in the heat of the day,” Jesse added.

“I will rest much easier when we reach Manna.” Ari broke off a piece of cake and popped it into his mouth. Mira winced. It had to taste awful. She watched in amazement as he chewed without spitting it out, or even making a face.

Lydia sat beside her and waited for the next few cakes to be finished. “I would prefer to stay here,” she murmured.

“What is this Manna?” Mira asked, having never heard of it, which puzzled her since they couldn't be that far from her father's house.

“It is a secret fortress,” Lydia answered.

“For the priests?” Mira asked, turning the cake.

“In a way, but not all know of its existence. Only a select few.”

“Our position has already been infiltrated by the enemy. We take a risk staying here,” one of Ari's brothers said.

“You are right, but I think the risk is equal,” Seth, Ari's blind uncle, added.

“But no one knows of our destination,” Jesse argued.

“And the obvious direction would be Jerusalem. It is why I chose to come this way first.” Ari took another bite of his cake.

“Do you think he knows he is eating charred food?” Lydia giggled.

Mira blushed. Had everyone noticed the burned cake? “I hope not.” She lifted another cake off the fire and checked both sides to ensure it was perfect before placing it on Lydia's plate. “What is this Manna like? Is it another cave?” she asked wanting to change the subject.

Lydia giggled once again. “Oh, yes. But much grander. I suppose it can be overwhelming, but I've grown up there.”

“It is your home, then? I assumed you lived in Jerusalem.”

The girl shook her head. “We visit Jerusalem often, but Manna is home.”

“Then why would you wish to stay here?”

“I do not wish to marry. And
Abba
says I must at least try to find a man I'm willing to live my life with.”

“You do not wish to marry a priest?”

“Oh, that is not it at all,” Lydia said a little too quickly. Her cheeks pinkened and Mira wondered if the girl already knew who she wanted to marry. “It is just...”

“You have found him elsewhere? Somewhere other than where your father has dictated?” It had been like that with her when she had come of age, her father had said much the same thing, but she knew her husband would never be found in the market place of Hebron, or anywhere else.

Lydia bowed her head. “Besides Jerusalem, we don't travel outside Manna for me to meet another. I have not found a man I could hold affection for, not like the kind of affection my parents hold for each other, or that you hold for Ari.”

Mira sucked in a sharp breath. “You think I care for your brother?”

“It is obvious.” She nodded. “I want to love my husband, and I want him to adore me.”

She chose to ignore Lydia's observations. “From all that I've seen, your father is a kind and gentle man. Ari is much like him.” She wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders. “You should tell him how you feel.”

Ari's sister looked her in the eyes. They were dark as night, much like Ari's. “Father would think me silly to expect a man to return feelings.”

Mira's heart ached, both for her and for Lydia. It was their lot in life to marry and accept what affections their husbands chose to give. Most men believed marriage to begin with mutual respect, not love. Her father held a different opinion, and she believed Lydia's father did as well if the looks he tossed Ari's mother were any indication. “You must speak with your father.”

Ari slapped his hands together, drawing her attention. “That was the most delicious meal I believe I have partaken of in a very long while,” he said, wiping the crumbs from his face.

The cave filled with the song of laughter. Only Ari sat in silence, his brow furrowed in confusion.

* * *

Nobody had ever told him what they had found so funny, but from the redness of Mira's cheeks he had a feeling she had had something to do with it. At the first opportunity to get her alone he would ask her.

After much debate, they had decided to pack up camp and head to Manna. They sent Jesse and Isa ahead of them to scout the path, while Melchiah and Elam watched their backs. He wiped the sweat dripping from his brow, his clothes were near soaked, and his feet were caked with the dust of the road.

Only another mile to go, and he could order a bath. Of all the things he had missed over the years it had been his own cleansing tub. Not that he wasn't thankful for the spring the Lord had provided. It had its uses, but in his tub he could relax. And he was far from relaxed with the constant pricking at his nape, which had him continually looking over his shoulder.

He picked up pace, the faster they got to Manna the sooner they would be safe. The sooner Mira would be safe from his enemies and the temptations plaguing his mind. If he continued on with such thoughts, he'd never make it back to her father a sane man. And then he'd not only be denied the right to be called her husband, but he'd rot in a tomb with his ancestors for not keeping his focus on Joash and the mission given him.

“Look,” Lydia called.

Ari snapped to attention, afraid danger loomed. But when he glanced at where she pointed he couldn't help but look upon Mira's face. The awe and complete rapture etched in the softness of her amber eyes took his breath away.

Manna had always been a source of pride, even more so than Jerusalem, but somehow he had forgotten just how unique Manna really was.

“It is more beautiful than where we left,” she murmured. “I did not think it possible to find a lovelier place.”

“God has blessed us tremendously,” his mother responded.

Ari stepped closer to Mira and wove his fingers with hers. The sensation pulled on his heart like a bowstring pulled taut. She looked into his eyes, his lips parted. Like water beading to water, he felt drawn to her and bent toward her. Her eyes grew wide, she released his hand and raced to catch up to Lydia, looping her arm through his sister's. The bowstring snapped, leaving a distinct ache in the middle of his chest. And for the first time that he could recall, he felt the sharp pang of jealousy.

* * *

They were met with a procession of music, dance and food fit for a king. He turned to his father. “They know?”

His father drew his hand down his beard. “I fear your uncle interrupted a meeting with the elders. He accused me of lying in front of them and then proceeded to tell them of Joash.”

No wonder the soldiers had increased patrols. With so many aware of the boy's existence it stood to reason Athaliah had found out through rumor. Had Elam inadvertently sent danger to their doorstep? It set Ari's mind at ease knowing there hadn't been intentional betrayal. Then how did the warriors know of the tunnels?

That was a question that would leave him alert.

“There shouldn't have been celebrations,
Abba.
”

“It could not be helped, my son. The people of Manna cannot contain their excitement. Besides, Manna has always been full of joy.”

“You are correct,
Abba.
However, the child does not even know who he is.” Ari prayed it would remain that way until they met with Jehoiada.

“Do not worry, son. Only the elders know. The celebration is of our homecoming. They've had sentries on watch.” His father pointed to the high places. “Waiting for our return.”

A bevy of servants lined the entranceway, some kneeling beside bowls of cleansing water, others with cups of water to break their thirst. Their belongings were taken from them, as were their sandals. Their feet were cleansed, their stomachs fed and their minds nourished with song.

Used to the ways of Jerusalem, and then that of being a bond servant, Ari had forgotten what the welcomings were like here.

“No!” Mira shouted.

Ari looked through the crowd to see what had distressed her. He cut through the pressing bodies until he stood behind her. Her back stiff as a rock.

“Would you not have me cleanse the travel from the child's feet?” A young woman Ari did not recognize held on to Joash's hand as if she were about to lead him away.

“Not without his guardian's approval.”

The young woman looked perplexed. “You are?”

The woman bowed her head. “Dinah, daughter of Omar.”

Omar had been an elder in Manna for years. “Dinah, my thanks for your hospitality. I will see to the child myself.” The woman glanced between them and shrugged her shoulders. Ari waited until the woman walked away before turning to Mira. “You do me proud, Mira.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little. “I am sorry.”

“Do not be.” He laced a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You are right to be protective.” He glanced around the people. Although it was not Jerusalem, it was still like a small city. And although each and every one of them should be worthy of trust, someone had betrayed them. “As it is I do not know who can be trusted.” His gaze flitted to hers. “Except you, Tama, my father and Jesse. Come, I will take you to my father's house where you can bathe and rest.”

She looked at Joash. “What about Joash?”

“I will see to him.”

Joash crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not a child to be watched over, am I?”

Ari laughed. “Then it is I who must need watching.”

“And who will watch over Mira?”

“That would be me,” his mother said, entering their little group. “I near lost you, my daughter. I forget how busy it is here. Come,” she said, ushering Mira away.

Lord, bring her comfort and safety.

For as much as being here should ease his mind, the pricking at his nape continued. He was certain someone watched him with malice. Or was it Mira who was watched with such murderous emotion? The idea set his nerves on edge. If any harm came to her... How was he supposed to be responsible for his actions? For he knew he'd have a difficult time keeping himself from murder if any harm came to her or Joash. He prayed the Lord was not tallying up his sins. He'd broken more commandments in the past few days than he had his entire life.

Lord, is this what it is to care deeply for someone? To remove aside all thought of yourself for someone else?

Chapter Twenty

W
ith Joash no longer taking the focus of her attention, Mira took in Manna. When they had approached the city from the mountain pass, it had looked like any other ordinary mountain in Judea. Or at least any that she had seen. But then they had passed through what looked to be just another cave entrance, which left the bitter taste of bile rising. She had had enough of dark tunnels and scurrying critters.

Even the spectacle of celebratory dancers at their approach hadn't eased her fears. But she had gathered up every bit of courage she could garner. For she knew the sooner they reached Manna the sooner she could return home. The sooner she could put space between her and Ari. Then she could mend the pieces of her breaking heart.

But when they walked through the gates of Manna she'd forgotten about home. Manna was only a bit larger than her village, a village made up of her family. Her mother, father, Rubiel. Aunts, uncles and cousins. Were all these people kin to Ari?

People pressed and touched, kissed her cheeks and bowed. There was no room to move without bumping into another person. No room to breathe. She felt lost. Alone in a sea of ornately colored tunics. It was enough to make her head spin. She almost preferred the black, cold walls of the tunnels over the weight of friendliness.

Now she followed behind Anna's gracefulness. Marble columns were erected throughout the central area, reaching toward the ceiling. As if it reached into the heavens. Blue, purple, gold and red square designs decorated the floors surrounding the columns.

They passed rooms upon rooms. Each seemed to be a home of some sort. Much grander than her father's house. A woman sat before a loom weaving fine linen cloth in front of a home. Another crushed grain. Her children ran circles playing a game of tag.

“Here we are,” Anna said as they climbed a set of carved stairs.

Mira's eyes followed the line of stairs as she took each step. Something bubbled and swirled in her stomach. With no Joash to hide behind, she had to take each step on her own. Each step that would take her into the place Ari called home. A shiver ran down her nape and across her shoulders. It somehow seemed intimate. An intimacy reserved only for a wife.

“Since you have no belongings with you, I'll take you straightway to the bathing chamber. There you will find clean clothing.”

“My thanks, Anna,” Mira said.

“None is needed, my child. You have been through quite an ordeal. You'll rest easier once the dirt is washed from your limbs.”

Mira smiled. As much as her body ached from the days of hard travel she felt as if she would never again rest easy. And with the possibility of crossing paths with Ari, she wouldn't find peace until she returned to her father's house.

“This is Sybil.” Anna introduced an elderly lady with graying hair. Her smile was welcoming and her hands looked papery soft. “She'll assist you in whatever you need.”

Mira bowed her head in greeting.

“You are with my Ari, yes?” Sybil asked.

Mira choked. “I am.” Even if it wasn't by her choice.

“Lydia told me to expect you. He is a good boy.” How long it had been since Sybil had seen Ari? There was nothing boyish about him.

Sybil led her through a narrow path lit by oil lamps and down a few steps. They entered a large chamber. Steam rose from the tub made of cut stone large enough to easily hold a man of Ari's size, although she knew this to be the women's cleansing room. Sybil removed Mira's veil and placed it with gentleness onto a stone bench.

“I recall the first time Anna wore this very veil. It was the day she left with Ishiah to meet his family.”

“You have been with Anna for a long time, then?” Mira asked as Sybil untied the sash at her waist.

Sybil laughed. “You could say that I have been with her since birth.”

Mira glanced at the woman. Although sagged with age, her facial features were somewhat familiar, could she somehow be a relative of Anna's? “You must be like family.”

“I am.” Sybil lifted Mira's tunic over her head, leaving her standing in nothing but the loincloth and the strips of binding around her chest. This ritual was so reminiscent of what Anna had done when they had arrived at the cave.

“Savta.”
Lydia entered bearing linens and several small jars. “I have brought all that you have requested.”

Embarrassed, Mira wrapped her arms over her chest. This woman was Ari's
savta,
his grandmother?

“No need to be shy, my child,” Sybil soothed.

This sort of hospitality was not unheard of. Mira knew it to be quite common, but she had never before—that was until only yesterday, twice in a short span—been treated with honor. What was more humbling was the fact that the actions of Ari's family were genuine, from the heart, not out of duty.

A knot formed in her stomach. Allowing Ari's grandmother to attend her seemed disrespectful. It was she who should be attending Sybil.

“You should not.” Mira glanced at the slated floor.

“Why is it, my child? I wonder why you think I should not cleanse the day's travel from you?”

“You humble me. It is I who should honor you in such a way,” Mira answered.

“Pash. It is an honor to meet your needs.” Sybil returned.

Sybil gathered Mira's hand within hers and drew her to the pool of steaming water. The water percolated leaving bubbles on the surface. Did Ari's family think to cook her? “Will it burn?”

“No. See.” Sybil sunk their combined hands beneath the surface.

Amazingly, although the water bubbled, it was only warm. Mira looked for the source, but found none.

“Here,” Sybil said, untying the linen cloth around Mira's chest. “Once you are sitting in the tub, you will feel much better.”

With Sybil's encouragement, she climbed up the few steps and then down into the pool of water. She sat rigid.

“Child, you'll grow wrinkles frowning as you are. Relax.” Sybil nudged her shoulder to relax against the cushioned mat. Mira took several breaths of air. The water, warm and comforting, forced her limbs to droop. She gave in and closed her eyes.

“There now, is that not better?” Anna asked.

The feebleness of her limbs must have traveled to her mind for she could not form a coherent thought. At least no thoughts outside of Ari. His rugged handsomeness with his aquiline nose. The rich tan of his skin. The strength of his hands...

Mira rolled her neck as Sybil dumped water over her hair. The woman's fingertips massaged her scalp. Reminding her of Ari's earlier caress.

The rich scent of cinnamon teased her senses with each wave of the water. The cinnamon was followed by cloves. It was as if she were being prepped for sacrifice, but only unblemished offerings were given. And nobody could say she was without blemishes.

Why, her skin was too golden from days in the sun, not the porcelain complexion of his mother and sister. The palms of her hands were calloused. And if any cared to look, they would see the twist of her fingers on her right hand, the marred skin of her shoulder and down her arm, which none had spied outside of her mother and sister.

Mira's cheeks heated with shame. Would Ari's grandmother disapprove of her, too? She closed her eyes and waited for the woman to say something, but Ari's grandmother cleansed Mira's skin without a word and when she reached the scars there was no sharp intake of breath or disgusted grunts, as was Rubiel's tendency when she saw the puckered skin. Ari's grandmother washed her with gentleness and not as one on a mission to scrub away her imperfections.

The kindness warmed her heart and forced tears to her eyes. For whenever her mother saw them she clucked in pity and her sister, well, she always had the look of disgust. As long as Mira kept them hidden they could pretend she was just like everyone else. Perfect.

And that was the water in the earthenware jar. When Ari was a bond servant he was like her, a human with imperfections. But now that she knew his secret, that he was a priest, a servant of the one true God, he deserved nothing but perfection.

She curled her fingers in the warmth of the water. The lone tear sliding down her cheek had nothing to do with the pain in her knotted knuckles as she clenched her fist.

Perfection was something she would never be.