10

Lifting Jonah to her hip, Mahlah traipsed toward Nemuel’s tent. Jonah’s head and chest draped over her like a shawl.

The tent tops of Manasseh rose toward a brilliant moon. The glow from the sky illuminated her path. Her sisters were usually home by this hour and resting in the courtyard. Was Hoglah hiding from her? They had not shared harsh words today. Or was her sister grieving? Hoglah had not shed many tears over their father’s death.

“I tired.”

Mahlah rested her cheek on Jonah’s head. “You have traveled all over this camp without complaint. Your grandmother will be proud.”

Jonah nodded, barely. His hair tickled her face.

Susanna, Nemuel’s wife, huddled next to a low burning fire. She removed roasted quail from a spit. The charred, crisp skin of the fowl caused Mahlah’s mouth to fill with saliva. If only Hoglah had seen to her duties, Mahlah’s stomach would have been filled with warm meat instead of warm air.

“Jonah is ready for a night’s rest.” Mahlah jiggled her companion’s body. Jonah’s eyes opened. He glanced around as if he had woken from a dream in a distant land. She sat near Susanna with Jonah nestled in her lap and dipped her hand in a cleansing jar. “Eat some quail so your stomach does not feel abandoned. Then you will slumber until dawn.”

Susanna scraped the last of the meat into a bowl.

Mahlah chose a piece of roasted quail for Jonah.

“Toda raba, Mahlah.” Susanna stroked Jonah’s hair, smoothing it behind his ear. “I cannot run after my grandson. God spared me from being a cripple after Basemath’s birth, but my legs are slower than his.”

“Even at my age, Jonah has me lumbering like an ox.” She offered Jonah more meat instead of asking after Basemath.

“He will be a great defender of Manasseh.” Susanna washed her hands. “No one will be able to catch him.”

“Like his father.” Mahlah laughed at the memories of her childhood. If only Reuben were here now to chase his son. “I pray for Reuben’s return.”

“I do as well.” Susanna’s brow furrowed. “My son cannot return soon enough. Jonah needs his father. And he needs a mother. One swift of foot.” Her kinswoman tilted her head and steadied her gaze on Mahlah before shredding the meat.

Mahlah shifted her weight on the stool. Did Susanna believe Mahlah would make a good mother and wife? If this be true, why hadn’t Reuben sought a betrothal? Instead, he’d married another. The two-toned tent standing before her bore witness to the addition for Reuben and his deceased wife. Nemuel bragged among the clan how his larger tent would hold heirs aplenty. Nemuel’s line was upheld by one lone grandson. Until Reuben came home.

If he came home.

She shuddered. Reuben had to return. Living without him would be worse than watching his happiness with another woman.

“Are your arms tired?” Susanna reached for Jonah. “I can put him on his mat.”

The moment Jonah’s body lifted from hers, warmth fled. Emptiness filled her lap. The evening breeze chilled her skin, mocking her.

Susanna limped under the weight of her grandson.

Mahlah rose. “Is Basemath inside? Perhaps she can see to Jonah’s needs.”

“I do not know where my daughter is.” Susanna’s voice came out strained but not by the burden of carrying Jonah.

Is that why her friend was outside by the fire? Was Basemath not around to help her mother cook the meal? Poor Susanna had to capture the birds by herself.

Where was Basemath? And where was Hoglah? Two girls of the same age. Two girls. Two troublesome girls. Two almost-women.

Two women.

Mahlah’s heart pulsed a warning. Not like those foreign women? They enticed a leader of Gad to leave camp. Her sister and Basemath wouldn’t have followed Moabite men. May it never be.

But would Hoglah and Basemath follow bejeweled girls? Would they drink their wine?

Oh Lord, when will we be settled in our own land?

“I will make a search for your daughter.” Mahlah held open the tent flap for Susanna and forced a reassuring smile. “Basemath is not fond of me. If I start ordering her around, she will hurry home.”

Susanna’s eyes glistened. “Bless you, Mahlah. I do not know when my husband will be home from the assembly.”

Hopefully, not soon.

Leaving the tent, Mahlah sprinted toward the Tabernacle. Would Basemath have gone to find her father? Mahlah stood on a crate near the embroidered linen wall and scanned the men gathered to seek their leader, Moses. No young women gathered near the meeting place. She inquired of a few women cooking near the tents of Benjamin. No one had seen two girls unchaperoned. Of course not. Women stared at Mahlah as if she were mad traipsing around in the darkness.

She headed home with fears invading her thoughts. Thankfully, Nemuel occupied himself with his tribal duties and had not ventured home to find his daughter and Hoglah missing.

“Oh Lord, watch over my sister and Basemath. Wherever their foolishness may have taken them.”

At least Tirzah and Milcah were perched around a dying fire eating cakes of crushed manna and oil.

Mahlah snatched a flattened cake. “Finish your meal and then go inside the tent.”

Tirzah crinkled her nose. “Are you going out again in the dark?”

“Only to find Hoglah.” Mahlah popped another morsel of bread into her mouth. “I believe our sister might be with Basemath. She, too, has not made it home, and Susanna is worried.”

“You will need light.” Milcah stood and brushed off her robe. “I will fetch a lamp, but before I do, we must pray.” Milcah’s gaze bore into Mahlah’s. “Thieves abound in this place.”

How could Mahlah have forgotten to pray? God had provided the quail this night. He had led their soldiers into battle. He was protecting Reuben. And he would protect Hoglah.

She urged her sisters closer and clasped their hands. “Yes, we must pray. How foolish of me to forget.” Mahlah bowed her head. “Hear O’ Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord alone.”

Tirzah chimed in loudly. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart.”

“With all your soul,” Milcah continued. “With all your might.”

When Milcah finished praying, she squeezed Mahlah’s hand.

“Direct my steps, Lord. May Hoglah and Basemath be home soon.” Mahlah unclasped her sisters’ hands. As she opened her eyes, the right one began to twitch. Why now? She needed keen sight in the dark.

“I will see to the lamp.” Milcah hurried into the tent.

“Tirzah, I will need your best sling stones.” Mahlah swiped a tear from her cheek and bit her lip. Her sister cherished her collection.

“The whole pouch?”

Mahlah nodded.

“Will I get them back?”

“Not if I use them,” Mahlah said.

Not if they’re embedded in a foreigner’s face.