Authors: Jill Eileen Smith
Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC027050, #Rebekah (Biblical matriarch)—Fiction, #Bible. O.T.—History of Biblical events—Fiction, #Women in the Bible—Fiction, #Christian Fiction
Rebekah picked up the camp oven and hung it from a peg inside the women’s cooking tent. The buzz of female voices filled the area, rising and falling as the women hurried to and from the central fire, taking food to their men. She turned at the sound of Selima’s excited chatter as Selima and Deborah rushed past her toward the place where Isaac sat. What on earth?
“Deborah, wait!” She hurried after her maids, who did not stop despite her call. Something was wrong. She joined them as they came to a halt near Isaac’s seat and bowed low.
“My lord, forgive us,” Deborah said, rising to face Isaac. “But you must hurry to the wadi and stop Haviv and Nadab before they kill each other.”
Rebekah gasped, and she looked to her husband.
Isaac began walking, acting more quickly than Rebekah had ever seen. “What are they fighting about?” he asked as the three women gathered their skirts and hurried after him.
“Nadab told Haviv that he had asked you for permission to marry my daughter, while everyone knows it is Haviv who has his eye on her. Why should the boy do such a thing?”
Deborah’s comment would have made Rebekah smile if the situation weren’t so grave.
Isaac did not respond, but his pace increased, and all three of the women had to run to keep up. They came at last to the outskirts of the camp, to the rise overlooking the wadi, where they spotted Nadab squatting in the dirt and no sign of Haviv.
Isaac slowed his approach and stopped at Nadab’s side. “Where is your brother?”
Nadab tilted his head toward the wadi, and Rebekah raced Selima to the edge of the rise to look down at the moving water below. Haviv sat a good distance away, his back to them.
Selima started down the rise, but Deborah caught one of her arms, Rebekah the other. “Wait,” they both said at once.
Selima resisted, but at Deborah’s stern glance, she stilled.
“Why? I must go to him to see if he is all right.”
“And destroy the man’s pride? It is already bruised. Come.” Deborah pulled Selima away from the wadi, back in the direction of the camp.
Rebekah glanced once more at Haviv, who appeared to be fine, and followed. They walked in silence until they were out of earshot of the men.
“Why wouldn’t you let me go to him, Ima? He needs me!”
“Yes, of course he needs you. But what man who is thinking straight wants a woman to see his defeat? They did not kill each other. That is enough. Let Isaac sort out the details between the brothers, and when Isaac comes with an offer from one of them, you will marry him and be done with it. If he gives you to Nadab, you will be glad you did not rush to comfort Haviv.” Deborah’s words came out winded, and Rebekah touched her arm.
“There is no longer a need to rush. Let us catch our breaths on our way back to camp.” Rebekah turned to Selima. “Your mother is right. Listen to her.”
“But I don’t want Nadab.”
“Pouting does no good, Selima. Pray. Trust Adonai to give you the man you want. Did He not do so for Rebekah?” Deborah looked at Rebekah, and the two exchanged a smile.
Selima nodded. “Yes. But it is very hard to wait for God to act.”
Rebekah placed an arm around her maid’s shoulder as they reached the edge of the camp. “It is even harder to wait for men to act. Pray, Selima. God works faster than men.”
The words silently chastised her. She had her own praying to do and only hoped her words were true.
Isaac paused at the threshold to his tent, suddenly realizing that Rebekah could not join him this night. He had seen the
shadow cross her face when she served him the morning meal two days ago, a reminder that her time was upon her. There would be no child this month, and despite his reassurances, the knowledge seemed to trouble her more with each passing day. Adonai must have something to teach them with the waiting, but Isaac’s comments to that extent did not bode well with her. Why could she not simply trust?
He took the torch from its stand near the entryway and lit a clay lamp to carry inside. He turned at the crunch of stones behind him.
“May I speak with you, my lord?” Moonlight revealed the concern in Rebekah’s eyes. “I would not ask if it were not important.”
He studied her a moment, longing to pull her close, to touch the softness of her hair and to kiss the worry from between her eyes, but he did not broach the distance, unwilling to defile either of them simply because he could not restrain his desires. Only the foolish did such things and did not respect Adonai’s plan.
“I cannot invite you inside—”
“No, I understand.”
“Perhaps a walk?” He took the torch to light their way behind the row of tents where the trees grew tall and proud beyond them. He came to an outcropping of rocks, brushed some loose branches aside, and bade her sit. “I am glad you came. I assume you are curious about Nadab and Haviv.”
“Yes.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked up at him. The worry lines decreased, and her eyes held deep interest.
He set the torch in a crevice between two rocks, then braced himself against the trunk of a terebinth tree. “They did indeed fight over your maid Selima.”
Her expression grew serious and she nodded. “She wants to marry Haviv.”
Isaac rubbed a hand over his beard, contemplating this new piece of information. “Why would Nadab try to take the girl from his brother? Everyone in camp can see the way the two look at each other.”
Nadab appeared more interested in mocking his brother and purposely inciting his wrath. The boy needed a woman to ease some of his wild streak.
“It is hard to say, my lord. Nadab may be jealous of Haviv. You do give Haviv more authority and responsibility.” Rebekah shifted and smoothed her robes.
“Haviv is older. It is his right.”
“And Selima is my maid. I can give her to you if I wish. They have no right to fight over her.”
“I do not want your maid.” He looked at her hard. “I have told you this.”
She lowered her gaze, and he berated himself that he had hurt her.
“I am glad, my lord. Forgive me. I look too often for reassurance.”
“There is nothing to reassure. I want only you, beloved.”
She looked at him and he smiled, relieved to see her relax. He straightened and walked a short distance up the path, then turned back to her. “Her betrothal must be sealed at once.” He leaned one hand against the tree trunk and looked at her. “Shall I give her to Haviv?”
Her smiled warmed him, and he had to fight the urge to take her hand, pull her into his arms, and hold her close.
“I am glad that you value my opinion, my lord. Haviv seems to be a worthy man. Selima would be pleased. But Nadab should also be given a wife. He has waited too long to choose one.”
“I agree. But that decision should belong to his father and mother.”
“Will Nadab cause trouble if he does not get his way with
Selima?” She placed both hands on the stone seat, her bearing stiff as if ready to pounce on Nadab should he even think to do such a thing.
Isaac wondered the same. He could not have these brothers continue to fight. “Nadab will respect my decision. If he does not, I will send him back to my father’s camp.”
She tilted her head, her look thoughtful. “That might be wise even before he can respond. Give him time to let his anger cool.” She looked at him, sudden alarm creasing her brow. “Or plot his revenge. How much time does it take a man to get over a woman he loves?”
He regarded her. “To hear my father speak of it, he never does. But Nadab does not love Selima.”
Had God’s test never come, the love between his father and mother would not have been strained. He shook the thought aside and glanced at Rebekah, seeing compassion softening her gaze.
She rose and took a step closer. “I wish I could change the past for you, my husband.”
He shook his head. “You cannot change the will of Adonai, my love. And we cannot keep Nadab from his anger. One of them will go away from this perhaps hating the other. They cannot both have her.”
He studied her, finding her changing expressions far more interesting than the turn of a leaf or the intricate carvings in the bark of a tree. He suddenly wondered how he could traipse into the wilderness to be alone, away from her, to study the created things and how they grew, when the most amazing of all creatures stood before him within arm’s reach.
“I will send word to Eliezer and Lila to seek a wife for Nadab.” He closed the distance between them, bending his head toward hers. “I hope you know, dear wife, that I want desperately to kiss you right now.” His breath fanned her face, and she laughed.
“And I wish you would, dear husband.” She gave him a coy smile, then took a step backward. “But the teachings of Adonai—we do not want to break them.” Uncertainty flickered in her gaze. “We must not do anything to anger Him.”
Her worry sobered him, and he stepped back a pace as well. “No, of course not.”
Though they had no written code or law that commanded they do one thing or another, the teachings of their ancestors Seth and Eber had given them plenty of instructions to follow. Were not the sacrifices themselves proof of the need to obey?
Shame heated his face that he had come so close to leading them both astray. To touch a woman in her uncleanness, even the most chaste kiss, might cause Adonai’s disfavor. And though a sacrifice might be enough to cover their sin, Isaac knew better than to purposely disobey. He would do nothing to cause Rebekah to fear or to blame him for incurring God’s disapproval.
“We should go back,” he said, suddenly anxious to return her safely to her tent. He picked up the torch and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “When your week is passed, we will travel to Hebron together with Nadab to secure a wife for him. In the meantime, we will see to it that Haviv and Selima are wed.”
19
Rebekah walked with Selima to the wadi the next day, trying to determine how to tell the girl of their decision. “I suppose there is only one way to say it.”
Selima joined her at the river’s edge, where they both dipped their jars and returned them to their shoulders. “Do you have good news, I hope?”
Rebekah leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Isaac and I have decided on a husband for you. We are giving you to Haviv this night.”
Selima stopped midstride and faced Rebekah with an expression that seemed to change quickly from awe to excitement to worry. “This night? But, so soon?”
“It could not be helped, Selima. It is safer this way.”
Though Rebekah had thought they might wait until week’s end, Isaac had met her when she emerged from her tent that morning and proclaimed the wedding would be best completed now. He had spoken to Haviv after their discussion the previous eve and feared what Nadab might do if the girl was not safely in Haviv’s arms by nightfall.
The thought spurred Rebekah to move back toward the camp. “Come. We have much to do.”
Selima hurried to catch up with her. “Am I really to wed Haviv this night?” A giddy laugh escaped her lips. “I had hoped . . . When he found me with the injured leg, I think I loved him at once.” Her eyes lit with delight. “There is so much to be done. Will we have a big celebration? Will you make the special fig cakes as part of the meal?” She paused in her chattering and stopped again.