The Guardian's Promise. Christina Rich

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СКАЧАТЬ her hands to her sides, hoping she had not been caught massaging her fingers. “Do you ever wonder, Ima, if God truly hears us?” she asked, sitting across from her mother. Mira scooped a handful of wheat from the pottery bowl and dropped it into the center of the mill. She gripped the wooden pin extending upward from the round stone just above her mother’s hand.

      “Of course He does,” she replied tilting her head to the side. The little coins, depicting her mother’s status as wife, adorned the headdress she wore and jingled with the slight movement. Mira had done away with her own simple veil once the servants had sought their beds, and so her hair hung freely down her back. A light breeze brushed across her cheeks, lifting her hair off her neck. She liked to imagine the wind was the Lord’s way of approving her slight rebellion.

      “What if we do not know our own hearts?” Using the wooden pin to turn the stone, together, they ground the grain to a fine flour.

      “What is it you ask, child?”

      “I desire something, here,” she said, tapping her heart with her free hand. “What if my desires are selfish? What if they go against God’s will? What if He hears my prayers and it causes another’s prayers to go unanswered?”

      Her mother halted the grinding. She brushed her fingers along Mira’s jaw as she smoothed back a lock of hair. “My child, you must trust God and His infinite wisdom. Prayers never go unanswered, but if they are not answered the way we think they should be, it is because God has something better for you.”

      Mira considered the wisdom of her mother’s words. She knew she was right, but at times it was difficult to trust. For years she despised Ari for making her feel weak. But today he made her feel protected, cherished. Not an object to be pitied. She’d found herself daydreaming at the well, daydreaming of a union between her an Ari. The more she considered the idea, the more she longed for a marriage with him. But it was more than just wanting Ari for her husband, and that is what she did not understand. Why would God open her eyes to a glimpse of who Ari was only for her father to demand she marry Esha?

      “You should rest, Mira. It is late.” Her mother curled her hand around her fingers. The warmth and tenderness of her touch brought momentary relief to her aching joints.

      “I should—”

      “Rubiel will be here soon to help. Now go on.”

      “Yes, Ima.” Leaning across the mill, Mira pressed her lips to her mother’s sun-kissed cheek. She rose and started for her chamber.

      “And, Mira,” her mother called.

      “Yes, Ima?” Hope bubbled in her chest. Would her mother tell her she didn’t have to marry at all?

      “Not all is ever as it seems. That is why you must trust God. If God wills it, then it will be so. Have faith.”

      “Sleep well, Ima.” Mira slipped off her sandals outside her door and entered the women’s sleeping chamber with a heavy heart. The urge to fall prostrate overwhelmed her, an urge driven not only by her thoughts of Ari but from some sudden weight of fear that her life was about to change. Soon her father would pass from this life, and it seemed, soon she’d be the wife of a man who could not stand the sight of her.

      She unfastened the girdle holding close her outer tunic. She slipped the heavier linen from her shoulders and folded the fabric before laying it on a small wooden stool. Careful not to disturb her cousin Tama, the servants and the young children, she stepped over their sleeping bodies and crawled onto her mat and beneath her blanket. Sleep would elude her, or at least until she worried her mind to exhaustion. “God, bring peace to my heart. Help me to trust in You and Your ways.” She knew she could not control the future, but this feeling of foreboding would not release the hold it had on her.

      “And, God, protect my family from the queen’s men if they choose to return.” An image of Ari standing against the guards pressed into her mind. “Give Ari the strength to keep us safe.”

      Once she spoke her request, the burden on her heart lightened and she breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what occurred on the morrow, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob would be with them.

      “And, God,” she whispered into the night. “If I’ve found favor in Your eyes, please keep me from a distasteful marriage.”

      Chapter Seven

      “I do not remember my fields being so vast.”

      “Do you wish to rest awhile?” Ari tugged on the donkey’s lead to slow him down.

      “Are you tired, Ari? Do you wish to rest your feet again?” Caleb grinned down at him as if he knew the real reason Ari had earlier claimed aching feet. Ari’s feet were used to long walks, but Caleb, even riding a donkey, was not used to long minutes outside of his chamber.

      Even though Caleb’s mind was that of a young man, his body was far from it. The ashen hue of his master’s cheeks proved as much. Ari should have insisted he stay abed, but Caleb had been adamant about seeing his crops. After all, Caleb argued, he may never get another chance to see a harvest.

      “We are close to the end, adon,” Ari encouraged. “Then we can rest before heading back home.” Even though they had been gone less than an hour, he knew his master needed the rest. However, Ari could not halt the gnawing in his belly that had existed ever since they had left the walls of the village. A sickening sensation, which grew worse with each passing moment.

      “Then we press on, my son.”

      Ari rolled his shoulders to wear off the uneasiness tensing his muscles and tugged on the donkey’s lead. They descended a pass and encountered a few servants tending the crops. The servants watched them, curious as to why their master had traveled so far from his bed. Ari bowed his head and focused on the path. He, too, wondered why Caleb chose this day to see his legacy. Certainly it was more than a dying man’s wish to see his fields once more.

      “Shalom.” Caleb’s toothless smile greeted his servants.

      Each bowed their heads in return.

      A sense of foreboding returned with a vengeance as they passed the small group. His nape pricked as if he crawled around in a bush of thorns. Someone watched him. Temptation to investigate further tugged on his innards. But he did not wish to alert whomever it was observing them.

      Ari chastised himself for his foolishness. Surely, the heat boring between his shoulders was only his imagination. Caleb was a kind master, his servants loyal. None would dare harm him, would they?

      “It is guilty, I am for not allowing the fields the rest required by the law,” Caleb said, gripping the donkey’s short mane for support. “I do not think it would have gone unnoticed by the queen’s spies.” He lowered his voice. “I fear I will not see Judah restored...”

      The sadness in Caleb’s voice choked Ari.

      Caleb wiped his brow. “I am glad we did not travel to Hebron. It would have taken us a week there and back at this pace.” He coughed. “I fear it is not the same.”

      The city, once a center of worship, bore the scars of Athaliah’s hand. An Asherah pole had even been erected at Abraham’s tomb. The queen’s faithful often defiled the holy place with sins comparable to Sodom and Gomorrah. “Jerusalem is no different,” Ari mused aloud.

      “Ah, СКАЧАТЬ