He turned around. Was Joshua looking for him? Had he called for him? That same feeling as at the spring. He shook it off.
He’d almost reached Caleb when the older man rose from his seat and headed away from the festivities.
Othni followed, waited until they were away from the crowd. “Uncle Caleb?”
The man looked over his shoulder. “Nephew.”
“Thank you for such a wonderful feast.”
“You’re quite welcome.” Caleb clasped his hands behind his back and continued toward the city gates. “Hopefully everyone will still think it’s wonderful at the end of the week.”
“I can’t imagine they won’t. You have enough food and wine to feed three cities.”
“Only the best for my daughter.” Caleb grasped Othni’s shoulders. “You are my nephew, and I love you like a son. I am giving you my treasure—she is now your treasure. Treat her as such, for if I hear differently …”
“I promise I will cherish her more than life itself.” He held Caleb’s gaze. “Because I know that you are not only her father, but Israel’s greatest warrior.”
Caleb smiled weakly. “Yahweh chose the perfect husband for her. A great warrior as well, one with a gentle heart.” He squeezed his shoulder. “I’m going to walk a little more.” He ambled out of the gates.
Othni watched the old man head west. The sun now reached the top of the tree leading to Acsah’s spring, but still did not touch the horizon.
All his skill and experience as a warrior couldn’t bring it down any faster.
Acsah sat in the middle of Abba’s large courtyard, where everyone could come bid her farewell. The celebration spilled out into the open center of town. Hebron was alive with laughing, singing, eating, dancing. Townspeople and villagers arrived, many bringing food and setting it on the long, low table Abba had placed just outside the stone wall surrounding his home.
No more food was needed, but all wanted to feel part of Acsah’s last days in Hebron. Her youngest cousins were busily baking bread in the small oven in the yard. Leah set out bowls of cucumbers braised in olive oil and flavored with onions and cumin. Naama and Raziel followed with several bowls to dip bread in: honey and lemon juice, ground roasted almonds with garlic, olive oil and thyme, vinegar with just a touch of honey to balance the bitterness. Shipra added a huge pot of lentil stew. Raw cucumbers, onions, olives, raisins, pistachios, and almonds already waited along with piles of the season’s first grapes. Their daughters came and went, refilling each bowl as it emptied.
Rahab settled in next to Acsah. “Have you eaten anything today?”
Acsah shook her head.
Rahab huffed then left.
Had Acsah upset her? She had no idea.
Her mind was a fog. She’d never liked being around many people, and this was nearly more than she could bear. She felt ill. Her hand went to her stomach.
Rahab returned, a bowl in each hand and Simeon in tow. “Here. Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“This will settle that stomach.” She shoved a bowl of stew at Acsah, then whispered to Simeon, who toddled off.
Acsah accepted it and took a small bite of meat. It tasted much better than she’d expected, and she quickly downed the rest. She reached into the other bowl, which was full of raisins and nuts.
“Feel better?” Rahab sat and pulled Simeon onto her lap, who had returned with two chubby handfuls of warm bread.
“Actually, yes. Thank you.” She smiled at Simeon as he laid a round of bread in her lap.
Rahab snatched some roasted almonds from the bowl. “I saw Joshua talking to Othni.”
“I should go talk to him.” She leaned on her hand to push herself up.
Rahab grabbed her arm and grinned. “You stay here. Everyone comes to you today.”
Acsah giggled. “For probably the first and last time in my life.”
“No.” Her eyes twinkled. “When you have a baby it happens, too.”
Acsah’s face heated at the thought of a baby.
“You’re blushing.” Rahab kissed Simeon’s cheek. “Maybe next year you will have one of your own.”
“Maybe.” She enjoyed the thought of children with Othni, but the idea of Rahab or Leah being here in Hebron instead of Kiriath-Sepher with her when it happened terrified her.
“Here comes Joshua. I’ll let you talk to him, but I’ll see you later this week.”
“Not later today?”
Rahab grinned over her shoulder as she left. “Sun’s almost down.”
Oh, my. Rahab was right.
Acsah rose to greet Israel’s leader.
“Acsah, motek, it is so good to see you happily married.” He gathered her in a warm embrace.
“You’re not going to say, ‘It’s about time’ or ‘Finally’?”
He smiled. “Yahweh had His own time for you. I will only say I am glad you have found such a good man for your husband.”
Her heart swelled at his praise for Othni.
“Sit with me.” Joshua lowered his tall, lanky frame to the ground.
Acsah took her seat next to him. “Thank you for coming. I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“I’ve been building my new home in Shechem. I hear Othniel has built you a fine home, as well.”
“I shall see it soon.” What kind of home would Othni build? He’d been working on it for well over a month.
He took her hand in his. “A new city, a new life. New beginnings can be … daunting. I know.”
Her stomach tightened. Joshua, the only man she would put on the same level as Abba when it came to courage, was saying this might be frightening?
“I will tell you what Yahweh told me, after Moses died.” His voice rumbled, his words measured. “I had never assumed I would be the leader of the Israelites. I thought I might, but I was not certain. But then Moses was gone, and I was in charge. We had a new land to conquer, to rule. And Yahweh told me, ‘As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you. Be strong and full of courage, and you will be successful. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for I will be with you wherever you go.’”
She gestured toward her husband. “Well, that’s what you should tell Othni. He will be the leader of Kiriath-Sepher.”
“No, motek. This is what I am telling you. Yahweh will be with you. You may not be the ruler of the city, but you will be the ruler of your home, of your children. Of your own heart. And you must know that Yahweh will always be there for you. You will never be alone. Do you believe this?” Joshua’s dark eyes seemed to pierce her.
She shrugged. “Of course.”
Joshua raised a brow. His face said he knew she was lying, but he didn’t question her further. He tipped his head and gazed over her shoulder. “Your husband comes.”
She glanced behind her, saw Othni, and turned back. “Thank you, Joshua. I’ll remember what you said.”
“Please do, motek. You will need it.” He kissed her cheek and rose. After embracing Othni, he left them alone.
Othni sat beside her. “What is it he thinks you will need to remember?”
“Nothing important.” That wasn’t exactly true, but it could wait. “Did you speak to him?”
“I did. I was worried he might think ill of me, but he doesn’t.”
“Why would he think badly of you?”
“I’ll tell you later. I don’t want to talk about that today.” He leaned nearer and placed his mouth next to her ear. His breath was warm on her cheek, and she closed her eyes. “Do you want to leave now?” he whispered. His voice was low and sent a shiver down her spine.
“Are we allowed to leave?”
“As soon as the sun sets. It just did, and I think we’ve been here long enough.”
Othni shoved open the heavy wooden door of the house Caleb had offered as a marriage chamber. Iru had built onto the house when he first married Naama, before he moved to Keilah, and it had sat empty ever since. Othni climbed the ladder to the second floor, the
n turned and reached for her hand. The sleeping room was large and airy. Several small windows let in the light of the nearly full moon. His heart rate doubled as his gaze swept over the low bed against the far wall—one of the advantages of being Caleb’s son. A soft mattress stuffed with wool and straw instead of sleeping mats. A round table held a pitcher of juice and a plate of fruit and cheese.
Her eyes light up, and she let out a soft gasp as he lit the oil lamps. He had sprinkled flower blossoms he’d gathered from near the spring all over the floor. The laughter and music from the feast drifted in, adding a joyous air to the night, but they were alone at the back of Caleb’s property.
The flowers filled the room with an earthy fragrance, along with the aromas of the food still cooking. So many sounds, scents, sights—but the only sense he wanted to satisfy right now was touch. Was she ready?
He slipped off his sandals and, almost on tiptoe, slowly drew nearer to his bride. He touched her earrings, then his hand drifted along her neck until he reached her necklace. His breathing grew faster as he slid his fingers under the chain and lifted the pendant. Turquoise. This was new—and beautiful. Would he ever be able to give her something like this? He owned a city—not much else.
His hands slipped along her arms, and he entwined his fingers in hers. He brought one hand up to kiss it, and a gentle clinking greeted him. He extended her arm slightly to see the many bracelets she wore, along with a couple of rings. A wider band graced her other wrist.
“Wearing enough jewelry?”
She laughed softly as she told him where it all came from, and the conversation appeared to relax her.
He placed his hands lightly on her waist, as if she were made of pottery and would break if he held her too tightly. For seven years, he had imagined what it would be like if she were his, and now that it was true, it almost scared him. How would he care for such a treasure? Yahweh, help me to keep her safe.
She looped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest.
The feel of her body next to his sent his blood racing. She fit perfectly against him, as if she belonged there. He slid his hands around to her back. “I will do everything I can to make you happy in Debir.”
“I know you will. Wait …” She raised her head to look at him. “Debir?”
“Your abba said I should rename Kiriath-Sepher. I have decided to call it Debir. I’m hoping it will be our sanctuary.”
She smiled. “I like that. I like it very much.” She studied him a moment, her dark eyes reflecting the moonlight. “Can I ask you something?”
“You may ask me anything.”
“Why haven’t you married before now?”
Should he tell her? Would it frighten her? “I was waiting—hoping—for you.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Me? Why?”
“I love you. I have always loved you.”
She shook her head slightly. “You have?”
“Since before we crossed the River.”
She laughed, a soft laugh that warmed his heart. “I was just a child then.”
He grinned. “I wasn’t. I knew then you were the one I wanted for my life. First I had to wait until you were old enough, and by then … I didn’t think Caleb would let me have you.”
“Why not?”
Othni winced. How could he tell her he was the one who had wounded her father so gravely? “I wanted to prove myself worthy first.” He cupped her cheek. “Would you have said yes, had he agreed?”
Something flashed in her eyes. Uncertainty? Fear? Regret? “I don’t know. I never wanted to marry a warrior.”
“Why not?”
She looked away and shook her head. “But the fighting’s over, right?”
“As far as I know.” He pushed the thoughts of escaping Anakim from his mind.
She chewed on her lip. “It doesn’t matter then. As long as you’re with me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I plan to be.” He brushed his lips against hers. So much softer and warmer than he had imagined. All coherent thought left his mind except the feel of her in his arms, her mouth on his. He kissed her again, held his lips against hers, longer this time, and tasted honey and cinnamon when he deepened the kiss. Her fingers played at the base of his neck, sending shivers of delight down his back.
For seven years he’d fought for her. Fought for the right to make her his wife. Hoped and prayed Caleb wouldn’t give her to anyone else first.
At this moment, every battle, every scar, every ache was worth it.
Enosh scowled. The sun had set, but the festivities did not slow.
Wait—why was Gilad here? If he could just get his attention … Gilad had served under him for three years. He was young and poor—a useful combination.
The man ate and laughed and slowly drifted nearer as the muscles of Enosh's neck tensed even more tightly.
“Gilad,” he hissed.
The man turned, frowned, but apparently saw nothing. He stepped toward the food once more.
“Gilad!” Enosh spoke louder but still in a hoarse whisper.
The young man turned again.
Enosh stepped from the doorway just long enough to capture his attention.
He brightened, but Enosh glared and put his finger to his lips. He crooked a finger.
Gilad looked around and slowly neared. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here. What are you doing here?”
“I was invited. I saw Caleb recently in Bethlehem, and he told me about the wedding.” He raised a bushy brow. “If you live here, why aren’t you at the wedding?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Gilad shrugged and turned to go.
Enosh quickly skimmed the man, from sandals to head. Frayed tunic, sandals close to falling apart, his beard in need of a good trim. Eyes on the food table. As usual. “But I have a proposition for you. It pays well.”
Gilad halted, turned back.
“I am moving to Kiriath-Sephe, the newest of Caleb’s cities.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“I want you to come. You are still unmarried, yes?”
He nodded.
Probably couldn’t afford marriage.
“And you’ll pay me? Just for moving?”
“There may be more. For now, the only condition is you tell no one you know me.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Again, that is not your concern.”
He pondered that a moment then nodded. “Sounds easy enough.”
“At some point, I may have need of further services.”
“For what?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Will I be paid again?”
“Yes, yes.” Enosh tried not to let his impatience show.
He narrowed his eyes. “I want my money before I go.”
Enosh gave him his best trust me smile and nodded as he reached for the silver he had tucked into his belt.
“And when do I go?”
“Immediately. Tomorrow, if possible. I will come later.”
Gilad let out a long breath. “All right. I’ll do it.”
He held out the coins, then pulled back. “Remember, you tell no one you know me or that anyone asked you to go, or I will take my money back, any way I can get it.”
Gilad blanched, stepping back. “I understand.”
“And clean yourself up before you go. Get some new clothes.” Enosh waved him off.
The man left as plans wound their way through Enosh's brain amidst the music and chatter of Othniel’s feast. Gilad could be useful in so many ways, but Enosh could use him only once. He would have to be saved for an excellent plan.
Enjoy your day, Othniel. Enjoy it now, because someday soon, I will take everything back. All will be made right. And what is yours will be mine.
As it should have been all along.
Chapter 9
Then she said, "Give me a blessing; since you have given me the land of the Negev, give
me also springs of water." So he gave her the upper springs and the lower springs.
Joshua 15.19
Acsah stared at the dust particles dancing in the rays of light the late morning sun thrust through the windows. They spun around each other like the young girls at the marriage feast—just as she had done so many times herself—as if they were the very essence of joy.
But joy was in this room, lying beside her. She rose on one elbow and rested her head on her hand. With the other she traced the scars on Othni’s chest. A fairly deep and recent one on his side. So many marks. What kind of weapons had left them? How many battles had he fought while he’d been away from her? She hovered her fingers over the remains of the burn on his bicep. Raised, taut skin stretched down his arm. Did it still hurt?
The bridal week was over, and today Othni would go to Debir to make sure their house was ready for her arrival. A day and a half without him. They’d only been married a week, and already she couldn’t imagine being without him for … for any amount of time. An entire day? It would be torture.
His eyelids fluttered, and he turned toward her. “Good morning.” He spoke without opening his eyes but pulled her head down to his chest. “I don’t want to leave you today.”
“Then don’t.”
He slipped his hand under her hair, his fingers skimming her neck and shoulders, leaving trails of heat as they moved. “I have to make sure everything is ready. I want it perfect.”
“That’s very sweet, but I’ll still miss you.”
He chuckled. “It’s only for a day or two.”
Two? How long did he think it would take? “Still.”
He opened his eyes. “Come here.” He kissed her as he rolled on his side, then kept rolling, slowly laying her on her back. “We’ll be together again tomorrow night at the latest. Spend some time with everyone, get everything you want to take with you, and know that I am waiting for you.” He covered her mouth with his once more.
After they had dressed and packed up what little they had in Iru’s room, they joined Abba for a special morning meal. This would be the last time she ate with him in his home when she would not be considered a visitor.
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