17

Twitch. Twitch. Twitch. Mahlah’s eyelid drooped. Of all the times to have a spasm. She needed keen eyesight to spy out Reuben in a crowd of battle-weary men. She shouldn’t complain. Because of the success of her clansmen and her people, there were new cities and new land to occupy. But the stain of blood meant seven days outside of the camp in custom with God’s laws on cleanness.

Mahlah cradled her father’s cloak in one hand and held her eye open with the other. Sheep bleated and scattered as she stomped through their fields. She avoided Eli and Jeremiah’s areas. They may whisper about why she’d wandered from her family.

Passing a neighbor’s herds, she slowed her steps and gawked. On the far outskirts, men lounged against trees and rocks, lazily conversing in small groups. Some lay on mats trying to sleep in the shade, their skin mostly bare. Legs sprawled from beneath blankets strung for temporary shelter.

Breathing deep, Mahlah coughed. With so many men and so much dirt, the air hung heavy with dust. Her nerves screamed for her to whip around and run.

Reuben would not have sought Noah if his message wasn’t important. Surely, he knew the counting of men would upset her, so why did he feel the need to share Moses’ decree?

“God give me strength.”

Unfurling her father’s robe, she held it over her head to shade her face and so as not to be easily recognized by her kin.

“I seek Reuben ben Nemuel.” She lowered her voice to sound like a man and forced the words from her mouth. Her summons carried over the mumblings of the fighting men. “Of the clan of Hepher.”

“Hepher?” a man echoed. He lumbered closer. He dipped his face beneath her shroud and opened his arms as if expecting an embrace. “Are we not worthy of you, woman?”

What had Noah gotten her into? She should have questioned her sister’s plan. Abiding in the fields with shepherds had caused her sister to be more brazen than most women.

Mahlah pulled her father’s cloak taut beneath her chin. This stranger would not get one peek at her form. “I received a message from my kinsman, Reuben ben Nemuel.”

“If a woman appears, perhaps we should all send messages.” His guttural laugh brought her to the attention of other loungers. “What is another day in the shade?”

Her cheeks grew hot. She came because she was summoned. She did not wander around as a harlot.

“I seek Reuben. None other.” Backing away toward the washing jars, she slipped a hand under the folds of cloth and held it upon her knife.

“I’ll be your Reuben.”

Her pursuer did not retreat.

More men rose from their mats and joined in her humiliation.

Ears thrumming, she halted by the tallest water jar. If anyone came too close she would push the vessel over and drench their feet in mud.

Drawing to her full height, she whirled her father’s cloak in the air. These men would see her strength. Oh, please Lord; let these men see my weapon.

“I am a daughter of the clan of Hepher. I seek Reuben, son of Nemuel.” Her throat burned from her declaration. “Tell me where my neighbor lies.”

The growing group of men cast glances at one another. One shrugged. A few chuckled.

Footfalls came from behind the tall jars.

The hair on her arms stood at attention. She whirled around, bracing for an attack.

“Mahlah?”

“Reuben?” Her heart skipped and plummeted to her belly. “Praise God. It is you.”

And it was him. Bare chested with muscles etched into his arms. A wave of desire surged through her body. To be held in those arms, against that chest. Her knees grew limp.

Stop those thoughts.

Don’t faint. Not here. Not among these warriors.

She threw her father’s cloak over her head and perched there in the middle of unclean fighting men, shrouded like a nervous bride. Better to seem mad than to be sinful.

“We do not need witnesses to our words. Go back to your rest.” The command in Reuben’s voice sent a cool stream swirling through her veins.

The shuffling of sandals stirred the ground.

“Now go!”

Her knees nearly buckled. Never had she heard Reuben be so forthright and forceful. She prayed he would not set his fury upon her for her arrival.

“Mahlah, what brings you out of camp?”

His voice did not hold the wrath from moments ago. He spoke in his calm manner, a manner that had drawn her heart to him as they had come of age.

Withdrawing the cloak so she could see, she beseeched herself to look only at Reuben’s eyes. Nothing else. Solely the eyes. Eyes she could picture even after he married another.

“I came—”

“It’s Jonah? My son.” Horror filled his face. He reached out to her, stopping before he made her unclean.

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head, so he would see her earnestness. “Jonah is fine now.”

“Now? What do you mean?” His gaze bore into her like a starving vulture assessing its prey.

How much should she tell him? All of it? About the pit and his sister? The plague in his tent? This wasn’t the time. Not when he was confined to the outskirts, left to worry for days.

“He had a fever, but Jonah is well now. He was complaining of hunger when I left.”

“So, you were with him?” He stepped backward, his hand massaging his brow.

Her heart ached. She wanted to always be with him. With Jonah. Her life was somehow fuller with their smiles.

“Yes, I was with him. But that is not why I am here.”

“You wished to bring me a cloak?” He glanced at the garment wrapped around her shoulders.

“Only if you need it.”

He shook his head. “It would be unclean if I wore it.” His dark eyes softened. “It was your father’s?”

She nodded. “That’s why I am here. You sent word with Noah about a counting. That Moses is going to count the fighting men of Israel.”

“Yes. God has blessed us. We have conquered cities. Walled cities with land aplenty.” Excitement sped his words. “Our livestock can graze on a thousand new hills.”

“What about my livestock? The flocks of Zelophehad? Will my sisters and I be given some of those hills?”

Reuben rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin.

“After Moses counts the fighting men, the leaders of each clan will assign land.” Reuben’s forehead ridged. “Larger families will receive more land. The head of each family will draw lots for their piece to settle.”

He was babbling, reciting what the elders had been told. What he had probably heard from others as he waited to be made clean from war. Her muscles drew taut.

“You don’t believe your father will put my family name in to draw lots?” There she said it. No need for a mysterious message.

“What man would?”

“You, perhaps?”

His mouth opened and closed, but he did not utter an affirmation.

Her cheeks tingled with warmth. And pain. As if someone had slapped her; Reuben’s silence was a slap all its own.

“So,” her voice strained in her throat. “The name of my father is as dead and buried as he. That is the message you were so eager for me to hear? Families will be counted but not mine.”

At her near shriek, a man dipped a ladle in a water jar and hurried away.

“Mahlah.”

Her name came from his lips, soft and gentle. It almost soothed her trembling hands like a soft caress. Almost.

He stepped closer.

“I only wanted you to be aware of what was happening, so you could be ready.”

“To do what? Challenge your father and my clan?” She wrapped the cloak in a ball so tight against her belly, it pained her stomach.

Reuben’s eyelashes fluttered. “There are other ways to get land.”

“Wait.” Her response floated in the air between them, long, and lingering. “You want me to marry off my sisters?” Tears pulsed behind her eyes. “This isn’t about counting my family because my sisters won’t be counted. Not as a family.” Her fingers trembled. A flash of drenching him with water from the jars crossed her vision.

“If they had husbands, they would have land and protection.” He bent low, hands open. “Consider it. That is all I ask. They will eventually marry.”

Biting her lip, she beheld him with a wariness she had never felt before. Where was the boy who’d watched over her? Who showed kindness when her own father did not have a tiny drop to spare? Her mind taunted her. He did not offer to protect you.

“Of all our people, I reasoned I could trust you.” She could not keep the disbelief from her chastisement. “Noah and Hoglah are old enough to consider an offer of marriage, but what about Milcah and Tirzah? What of them? Who will look out for the needs of girls with no land and no father? Shall I hand them off to someone who desires a larger family to count? May it never be.”

“I did not mean to upset you.” He scraped a hand over his shoulder-length hair.

Not a twinge of attraction budded in her belly. Her woeful lust had been stamped upon and tattered.

“My father may have grumbled against God, but he believed in our God and taught his daughters to do the same. The daughters of Zelophehad will be counted among the clan of Hepher. As. A. Family.”

She turned and whipped her cloak over her shoulder. A few men dodged from her path.

“If that were possible, I would hope for it. Truly, I would.” Reuben’s shout followed after her.

Why did she have to be fond of him? Why couldn’t God have brought another man into her life? But then what man would want the burden of providing for several unwed sisters? Reuben meant well with his message, but she refused to take his counsel. She had promised her mother that she would watch over her sisters, and she would not break that vow. Ever. Even if her sisters were overlooked in an official counting.

She and her sisters would carry her father’s name into the Promised Land. Part of Canaan would belong to Zelophehad’s offspring. She had vowed as much to her mother, and to herself.

And she would not break her own vow.