favorite children.” Then he grinned at Old Jaw—not a friendly grin, a grin full of malice, like a baboon challenging a stranger. “And I’ve had enough of accusations. I am who I say, and my proof is that only a fool would have kissed this young woman if he were
not
who I say I am.”
His hands were still upon her shoulders, but now they felt heavy to Rachel. Too big. She could be lost in those hands, powerless, swallowed up. This man who could move the wellstone by himself, this man who could turn sheep where hewanted, with his strength and his soft murmuring voice, she could be lost if he held her a moment longer.
She pulled away, and as she had thought at first, he held her so lightly that he barely had to move his hands to let her go.
“I have to go,” she said. Or meant to say. The words came more like a gasp. “I
must
go. Must
run
. And tell my father.” Old Jaw and the boys and the dogs could bring in the sheep. She turned her back on Old Jaw and found herself facing Jacob. Her cousin Jacob.
Isaac had been Rebekah’s cousin.
He smiled at her. And laughed.
He had called her quick-witted. Not beautiful. Could a man be more perfect than that?
She turned and ran away from him then, because she had to tell her father that he was coming, and especially to tell him about the kiss before anyone else could, so she could turn away Father’s wrath before Jacob came into the camp. And she also ran away from him because it frightened her to think that perhaps God had brought him to her, and had planned it since she was a little girl, or perhaps had planned it all her life. Perhaps she had always belonged to Jacob, and never knew it.
But could such a man as that ever belong to
me?
thought Rachel.
There was no voice in her head to answer her question. She didn’t need one.
CHAPTER 4
R achel told it in the wrong order, though she had thought it out carefully on the way. First tell Father that Rebekah’s son Jacob had come to visit,
then
tell him about the kiss. She hadn’t anticipated Father’s reaction to the news. You would have thought the king of Byblos was coming to visit, the way he immediately began to run around giving orders. Slaughter this animal and that animal, pitch the best visitors’ tent, clean this up, tidy that, make this place look respectable, don’t you know a
prince
is coming?
There was not chance to say even so much as, By the way, Father, he kissed me, and then cried. But then, did she really have to? Father knew the important information—the visitor was his nephew, Rebekah’s son. When he heard about the kiss—and he would—he would already know that it was a kinsman’s kiss and nothing more.
The sudden uproar in the camp brought Leah out of hertent, of course, and she was holding lightly to the arm of a new girl that Rachel hadn’t seen before. Had Father bought someone? Not likely. Probably someone’s relative, or an orphan he had taken in. She was a comely girl and didn’t carry herself like a slave, so perhaps she had not been bought.
“What’s going on?” asked Leah. “Is that you, Rachel?”
“You know it is,” said Rachel. She knew perfectly well that Leah could recognize most people from a distance, just by their gait and voice, their posture and general coloring. “Who’s the new girl?”
“Bilhah,” said Leah, just as the girl herself said, “I am Bilhah of Byblos, and I’m a free girl.”
Leah smiled. “She’s Noam’s cousin. He stole her dowry money and ran away, and now she serves in his place.”
Bilhah turned red. “I do not,” she said. “Your father refused me as a servant, and said
he
was my cousin now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Leah. “How could I forget? That’s very important.”
“I’m a free girl.”
But Rachel could see that Bilhah was sizing her up, and she wanted to scream at her, Yes, I’m the pretty one, whatever that’s worth, but if you say it in front of Leah then you’re not a very good person, are
not
who I say I am.”
His hands were still upon her shoulders, but now they felt heavy to Rachel. Too big. She could be lost in those hands, powerless, swallowed up. This man who could move the wellstone by himself, this man who could turn sheep where hewanted, with his strength and his soft murmuring voice, she could be lost if he held her a moment longer.
She pulled away, and as she had thought at first, he held her so lightly that he barely had to move his hands to let her go.
“I have to go,” she said. Or meant to say. The words came more like a gasp. “I
must
go. Must
run
. And tell my father.” Old Jaw and the boys and the dogs could bring in the sheep. She turned her back on Old Jaw and found herself facing Jacob. Her cousin Jacob.
Isaac had been Rebekah’s cousin.
He smiled at her. And laughed.
He had called her quick-witted. Not beautiful. Could a man be more perfect than that?
She turned and ran away from him then, because she had to tell her father that he was coming, and especially to tell him about the kiss before anyone else could, so she could turn away Father’s wrath before Jacob came into the camp. And she also ran away from him because it frightened her to think that perhaps God had brought him to her, and had planned it since she was a little girl, or perhaps had planned it all her life. Perhaps she had always belonged to Jacob, and never knew it.
But could such a man as that ever belong to
me?
thought Rachel.
There was no voice in her head to answer her question. She didn’t need one.
CHAPTER 4
R achel told it in the wrong order, though she had thought it out carefully on the way. First tell Father that Rebekah’s son Jacob had come to visit,
then
tell him about the kiss. She hadn’t anticipated Father’s reaction to the news. You would have thought the king of Byblos was coming to visit, the way he immediately began to run around giving orders. Slaughter this animal and that animal, pitch the best visitors’ tent, clean this up, tidy that, make this place look respectable, don’t you know a
prince
is coming?
There was not chance to say even so much as, By the way, Father, he kissed me, and then cried. But then, did she really have to? Father knew the important information—the visitor was his nephew, Rebekah’s son. When he heard about the kiss—and he would—he would already know that it was a kinsman’s kiss and nothing more.
The sudden uproar in the camp brought Leah out of hertent, of course, and she was holding lightly to the arm of a new girl that Rachel hadn’t seen before. Had Father bought someone? Not likely. Probably someone’s relative, or an orphan he had taken in. She was a comely girl and didn’t carry herself like a slave, so perhaps she had not been bought.
“What’s going on?” asked Leah. “Is that you, Rachel?”
“You know it is,” said Rachel. She knew perfectly well that Leah could recognize most people from a distance, just by their gait and voice, their posture and general coloring. “Who’s the new girl?”
“Bilhah,” said Leah, just as the girl herself said, “I am Bilhah of Byblos, and I’m a free girl.”
Leah smiled. “She’s Noam’s cousin. He stole her dowry money and ran away, and now she serves in his place.”
Bilhah turned red. “I do not,” she said. “Your father refused me as a servant, and said
he
was my cousin now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Leah. “How could I forget? That’s very important.”
“I’m a free girl.”
But Rachel could see that Bilhah was sizing her up, and she wanted to scream at her, Yes, I’m the pretty one, whatever that’s worth, but if you say it in front of Leah then you’re not a very good person, are
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