32

Barak tightened the last of his gear to the strap of his belt, felt the hilt of his sword out of habit more than need now, and headed toward the edge of the mountain, where his men had already begun to move toward their homes. He spotted Keshet talking to someone. One glance and he knew the object of Keshet’s attention. Daniyah the Kenite. He looked away, fighting the sinking feeling in his gut. Why shouldn’t his friend seek a wife now that the danger had passed? He imagined many of the men would quickly return to the lives they knew or the ones they hoped to build now that they could live in safety, even prosperity, should God allow.

He looked past Keshet for a sign of Ghalib. No doubt the boy would be hounding Talya now that Jael and Heber had asked Deborah for a marriage alliance. And why should he care? He had refused Talya’s attempt to woo him and Deborah’s willingness to accept him as a son. He raked a hand over his neck, nearly sending his turban to the dirt. There was no use trying to return to what had passed.

But he could not shut out that vulnerable look Talya had given him. She had revealed herself in a way she had never done before. He squinted, searching the crowd for her. Trust. That was the look she had offered freely. One of trust in him.

The sinking feeling lifted slightly. Was it possible? Perhaps it was not too late.

He moved on past several groups of men still packing or slowly making their way toward the path. Deborah’s tent had come down long ago, and though her family had invited him to join them, to return to their village, he had refused Lavi’s prompting. But his gut told him to speak to Lappidoth before they parted ways. Who knew when he would get the chance to see them again?

He shaded his eyes, searching. There. Lappidoth stood several paces from Deborah. Lavi and Elior and their cousin Shet led donkeys laden with supplies ahead of them, while Talya walked beside her mother. Good. Lappidoth appeared far enough apart for Barak to speak to him alone.

Barak quickened his step to catch up with the man. Was this action foolish on his part? He found Talya annoyingly intriguing, the exact opposite of Nessa. Could he live with a woman so entirely different from his first love? He paused, uncertain again, and slowed his step.

“Barak, my friend, there you are.” Keshet spoke from his right, startling him.

“You should not sneak up on your friends.”

“And you should not let me.” Keshet chuckled. “Obviously, some thought has taken you far away.” He touched Barak’s shoulder, his look too telling. “You know it is time to move on, Barak. Find another wife. Otherwise your soul will always be bound to a place you cannot go and a person you cannot hold close again.”

Barak stiffened. “You know nothing of it.”

“True. I don’t know that kind of loss. But I hope to know that kind of love.” Keshet’s smile widened.

Barak stopped walking. “Daniyah?”

Keshet nodded, his dark eyes shining. “I have spoken with her and with her father. They are agreeable.”

Barak took a step back, assessing. But a moment later he clapped Keshet on the back. “When we arrive home, we will gather everyone in town to celebrate with you.” He smiled, hoping the gesture did not look as forced as it felt.

“Ghalib hopes to wed Talya,” Keshet said, continuing to walk forward with the throng. “Daniyah told me her brother is not sure what he wants. He pines after a cousin and after Talya. I am going to assume he doesn’t expect to have both.” He glanced around and leaned closer. “I thought you should know.” His look said more than his words.

Barak nodded. “They spoke to Deborah last night.” The sinking feeling settled once more inside of him.

“Are you going to say nothing then?” Keshet shifted the pack on his shoulder.

Barak glanced ahead to where Lappidoth still walked one pace behind Deborah and Talya rather than ahead of them with his sons. “He carries a weight,” Barak said absently, ignoring Keshet’s question, inclining his head toward Lappidoth several steps away.

Keshet followed his gaze. “So you do intend to speak with him?”

Barak gave him a sidelong glance. “You don’t give up, do you?”

Keshet smiled again, the smile of one who has conquered his world. “Not if I don’t have to.” He put one meaty arm around Barak’s shoulder. “I love Daniyah, but I do not think her brother is the best person for Deborah’s daughter.” He released his grip and strode ahead, glancing back once to give Barak a confident look.

Barak did not respond, but his feet seemed to increase their pace of their own accord as he considered seeking an audience with Lappidoth.

“You’re terribly quiet, my daughter,” Deborah said as the two of them followed her sons down the winding path to the base of Mount Tabor. They’d been walking since just after sunup and were nearly halfway down the mount. “What troubles you?”

Talya took a step behind her mother as they maneuvered a narrow spot in the turn. Deborah waited as they came around the bend for her daughter to join her once more.

“I don’t want to marry Ghalib,” Talya said, her voice low. “I do not want to marry outside of Israel.”

Deborah looked ahead, catching sight of a trio of mountain goats climbing the rock to the place they had just been. “Then you shall not marry him.”

Talya looked at her, eyes slowly widening. “That’s it then? You will accept my wishes without consulting my father?”

Deborah released a sigh. “I have already discussed it with your father, Talya. It is not something we have wanted. But at the same time, Jael did a great service for Israel. To refuse them will not be easy.”

Talya settled her gaze somewhere in the distance. “I still want to marry Barak.”

Deborah studied her daughter, noting the bright flush to her cheeks. “And if Barak still grieves Nessa?” she asked after a lengthy pause. “Would you wait for him, even if it meant waiting many years?” She touched Talya’s arm. “I would not wish that for you.”

Talya dropped her gaze and kicked a stone in the dirt. “Perhaps Father could ask him just the same.”

We have already been refused. But Deborah felt a check in her spirit. Now was not the time to remind Talya of her failed attempts of the past.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at me, Ima. Whether he is over Nessa or not, there is interest in his gaze. I’ve felt it.” She picked up the belt of her robe and twirled it between her fingers as though the whole subject made her nervous.

“I will speak with your father again once we camp for the night,” she promised. Surely Lappidoth would agree with her assessment. Just because he had refused Talya once did not mean he would do so again. But suddenly Deborah was not sure that he could be so easily controlled. A soft shiver moved through her at this new feeling toward her husband.

Talya gave Deborah an uncharacteristic hug. “Thank you, Ima.”

Deborah touched her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t hope too quickly, my daughter. If Barak does not share your feelings, or if your father does not agree, you must accept it.”

Talya released her hold, her brow furrowed. “Abba will agree. Surely he will. Has he said something?”

Deborah patted her daughter’s arm. How unusual for both of them, this feeling that Lappidoth might give an opinion they would not like. “He has said nothing against Barak. But I would not proceed without his blessing.” And suddenly she wanted far more than Lappidoth’s blessing. She wanted him.

Talya hugged her again. “Abba will say yes, and Barak will accept me.” Her grin did not waver.

Such overconfidence and naivety in the hearts of the young. But Deborah accepted this rare camaraderie as a good sign and walked along while Talya fairly skipped beside her.

Barak sat at the campfire in the midst of a sea of tents that his men had pitched for the night. Mount Tabor stood at his back, and the Jezreel Valley, where the bones of the slain were now buried in thick, drying mud, lay to their west. Keshet had left his side to sit with Heber and his family, no doubt anxious to set a time for Daniyah to become his wife. The sound of the bridegroom in the streets had not been heard during Sisera’s terror. People were ready to find joy again.

He stirred the fire with a green twig, watching the flames fly upward. He never had found the courage to approach Lappidoth or speak to him of Talya. Every thought of her held confusion, though he also could not seem to put her from his mind.

He released a long-held breath as movement caught his eye from the shadows, and he glimpsed Deborah approaching.

“Come to join a lonely captain, Prophetess?” He smiled and stood, offering her his seat.

She waved off his gesture of kindness. “Don’t trouble yourself. I have not come to stay.”

He remained where he stood, his stomach doing an uneasy flip at the look in her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

She studied him, her expression revealing little. “My daughter’s heart is bound to you, my lord. Months ago, she expressed her desires in an immature and inappropriate way.” Deborah lowered her gaze, and she seemed overly concerned with the way her belt was tied at the waist. “She does not always listen, nor did she obey your command when the time came for war.” A sigh escaped, but with it her head lifted and she faced him once more. “She is still a woman to contend with at times, but I see much maturity in her in recent days.” Her gaze searched his. “I have come to see if your thoughts on remarriage have changed.”

His mind stirred with the memory of the awkward position Talya had placed him in should anyone but Deborah have discovered them. But in the same moment, he saw that vulnerable glimpse of Talya’s trust, vivid in her bright dark eyes. He had thought of little else since.

But was he ready to admit such a thing? He swallowed as his gaze swept the area around them. No sign of the Kenites or Keshet or Deborah’s family. Satisfied that they were truly alone, he took a step closer to Deborah.

“I was under the impression the offer was no longer mine to accept.” He could see now that he should have followed through with the desire to speak to Lappidoth on the trek down the mount, but he could not bring himself to discover he had lost out to a boy.

“The offer, though never officially made, was also never rescinded, my friend,” Deborah said quietly. “It was refused.” She crossed her arms, and he could not tell by her expression whether she was angry or holding herself in a state of self-protection.

He looked at his feet and dug his toe into the ash near the edge of the fire. “If the offer still stands,” he said carefully, “it would not be refused a second time.”

He heard the air release from her lungs and looked up to meet her gaze.

“You have made peace with Nessa’s parting then?” Her brows drew together, and he suddenly saw why the people of his nation called her a mother in Israel. Truly, she seemed to care about him as a mother would her child. Certainly she cared about her daughter’s feelings, despite their differences and frequent disagreements. Why else come to him without her husband? She would not risk her husband’s pride nor her daughter’s heart to hear him push them away a second time.

He nodded. “As best as a man can do, I suppose. Nessa will always live here.” He placed a hand on his chest where his heart beat strong beneath it, and at his middle, the seat of his emotions.

“As she should,” Deborah said, her arms resting now at her sides. “I do not expect you to forget her. I only need to know whether my daughter will regret spending her life with a man who has already loved well.”

He flushed hot at the sudden intimate turn of the conversation. He should be having this discussion, which would be a much less probing one, with Lappidoth. But he knew he could never get past the prophetess without her searching out the very depths of his thinking.

“Your daughter may regret wanting to be with a man like me, but it would not be for lack of love.” He looked beyond her, embarrassed at his words, and yet somehow glad he had said them.

Deborah’s soft chuckle made him glance at her once more. “The two of you will likely be at war over one thing or another, and I daresay I am not sure who will win.” She smiled, and he returned it. “But if you will treat her kindly, our offer to you stands.”

His stomach flipped over again, this time with a sense of hope, even anticipation. “What of Ghalib? They are closer in age.”

“Are you looking for excuses?” Deborah searched his face, but her eyes held a hint of mischief.

He relaxed. “Not at all. But I assume Jael and Heber did not visit you yesterday, with Ghalib following like a lost sheep, for no reason.”

She tilted her head and gave him a curious look. “You do not like Ghalib.” A certain knowingness crept into her gaze. “That is why you keep your distance when he is near. Or try to.”

“I do not dislike Ghalib,” Barak said, straightening.

“I will not argue the point with you, Commander.” She gave him a pointed look. “If you are agreeable, I will ask Lappidoth to speak with you to settle the terms of the marriage.”

He nodded once. Whatever Deborah and Lappidoth had decided regarding Ghalib, it did not concern him now.

She turned and left him alone, and he stood still, facing the fire. His heart quickened as he allowed his mind to recall Talya’s trusting gaze.

So she would be his after all. The thought made him smile.