Deborah lay awake, unable to sleep despite her body’s cry for rest. Talya had managed to stir her emotions to the point of complete exasperation once more, and she fought the urge to awaken Lappidoth and complain profusely to him. Complaining did no good, for he always sided with their daughter.
But she could complain in her prayers, though she wondered whether Adonai ever grew tired of hearing from her. She grew weary of herself, so why shouldn’t the Almighty feel the same way? If He could grow angry with Moses, He could most certainly grow angry or frustrated with her. Much as she did with Talya.
The thought was sobering, but the need to pray intensified. She rose quietly, careful not to awaken her husband, snatched her robe, and walked softly toward the courtyard. She needed no lamp with the moon’s glow so bright, and with few trees to block the path from here to the center of town, she might even visit the palm tree. Then again, perhaps it would be better if she waited until dawn. Even in a village as close-knit as theirs, a woman alone . . . She refused to finish the thought.
She stopped at the entrance to the court, looking over the village, and lifted her face to accept the kiss of the night breeze, feeling as though God was surely aware of her angst, her heartache. Why is my daughter so difficult, Adonai? I teach her, try to mold her to see things the way she should, and yet she battles me at every turn.
Memories of her own past and her compliance to her parents’ wishes caused another wash of anger to rush over her. She had been obedient all of her life. Why could her children not be the same?
She moved slowly over the cobbled stones of the large courtyard, past the open hearth and toward the open gate, when her eye caught the outline of someone sleeping on the stones. She squinted, drawing closer. Not one person, but two.
Her heartbeat slowed. Talya’s bare feet came into view, her body nearly touching that of a man. Of Barak. Deborah closed her eyes, certain they had betrayed her, but when she opened them, Talya’s form lay still beside Barak’s. Barak’s even breathing drifted toward her, but as she moved carefully closer, she did not hear Talya’s steady breath, which she had so often listened to as the girl slept.
She bent and touched her daughter’s arm. Talya did not move, but Deborah sensed she only feigned sleep. Deborah tightened her grip and nudged her with her knee. Still Talya remained still. Exasperation rose so swift she had to force herself to remain calm. Talya was too good at these silly games she played. Was she so foolish to think she could force a man to marry her by staying beside him while he slept?
Deborah winced, imagining Barak’s response if he found the girl still at his side come dawn. All thoughts of offering her hand to him in marriage fled. Talya was a good girl, had a good heart—surely she did. But she simply could not be allowed to defy her mother and force her way in life. Her father might be caught in her games, but Deborah could not allow Talya’s future husband to feel so obligated. Talya needed a man who was able to refuse her.
A sigh she could no longer hold escaped. Adonai, what do I do with this girl?
She released her grip on Talya’s arm and slowly stood. Perhaps Barak should be the one to decide Talya’s fate. If he wanted her, good. Deborah would no longer have to worry or wonder what to do with her. He would be the one responsible for his wife’s decisions. If he refused her . . . then Talya would learn a valuable lesson.
But she could not wait for dawn to give the man the choice.
She glanced heavenward, silently praying for strength. Emotion rose close to the surface. Sleep would heal so much of the pain now piercing her heart. Talya, too, needed rest. She was not thinking clearly and would surely regret her actions come dawn. But if the girl would not move now and come with Deborah, then there was nothing to do but “wake” them both.
She knelt again, this time closer to Barak, and touched his shoulder. He startled, as she expected he would. Warriors did not sleep deeply, though somehow he had managed to stay thus even with Talya beside him. Was he part of this?
Doubt filled her. Surely she could trust him.
“Who’s there?” Barak’s hushed voice filled her ear.
“It is I, Deborah,” she said. “And I think, my lord, that you should arise.”
He scrambled to his knees, jolting again when he looked down at Talya, who quickly moved away from him, her wide eyes still carrying a frightened doe expression. Was she acting on his account, or did she truly fear?
“What is going on here?” Barak’s commanding whisper brought Deborah’s thoughts up short, and she knelt in the darkness beside her daughter, who to her surprise said nothing.
“I believe my daughter has had trouble sleeping, my lord, and somehow ended up beside you here in the court. I tried to get her to move, but she did not stir.” She glanced at Talya, whose gaze had moved to study her clasped hands. “I felt it best to wake you before others caught you like this at dawn.”
Barak ran a hand along his jaw, his gaze clearly troubled. “Talya?” His voice gentled as one who speaks to a child. “What were you thinking to come out here?” He touched her chin, coaxing her gaze to meet his. “Tell me the truth.” There was a set to his jaw that told Deborah he was not a man so easily manipulated.
“I . . .” Talya could not hold his gaze. “I felt safer with you,” she said.
“We are not in the fields, and this is not appropriate for a capable woman.” The last words were said with emphasis, and Deborah wondered at his meaning.
Talya shifted and faced him. “I want . . . that is . . .” She seemed suddenly at a loss for words. “It doesn’t matter now.” She pulled away from his grasp, and he crossed his arms, studying her.
“You put me in a position that some would find disturbing,” he said, his dark eyes suddenly flashing fire. “Do not pretend I do not know your intent.”
She placed both hands beside her, glanced at Deborah, then leaned closer to him. “Think what you want,” she whispered. “It was a foolish thought. Forgive me.” She rose, and he did not stop her. She did not look back as she hurried into the house.
Barak looked at Deborah, one dark brow lifted. “Your daughter put me at great risk, Prophetess. A man alone with a virgin . . .” His voice trailed off.
“She wants to become your wife.” The admission seemed right, though Deborah could not read the expression in Barak’s suddenly masked gaze.
He looked away and shifted uncomfortably. At last he stood and offered Deborah a hand. They faced each other in silence. “Is this your wish as well, or is it entirely her doing?”
Deborah met his gaze. “I will admit,” she said, “I have considered seeking a match between the two of you. But not yet. And not this way. And now I don’t know what to do with her. I am certain her ordeal and the lack of sleep has caused this rash act. But you know yourself that Talya is a strong woman who wants her way. She saw her chance to wed . . . and she wants that man to be you.”
Barak studied her in silence.
“Say the word and I will seek a different man for her, my lord. No one need know of tonight’s incident.”
He looked down at her, his expression softening. “She is nothing like Nessa.”
“No, she is not.” Deborah searched his gaze until Barak looked away.
“I will not be forced into such a decision, Prophetess.” He took a step back from her, toward the court’s entrance. “I think it is best if I return to my men.”
She nodded, her heart sinking. Had she just ruined Talya’s best chances for marriage? And yet . . . what else was a mother to do? This was not the time to think of marriages. It was nearly time for war, and Barak had too much on his mind to add the worry of an immature girl to his thoughts.
Deborah sighed, glancing back at her home where everyone still slept, where peace awaited. If only that were the truth.