35

Noah rushed to Mahlah’s side. “What is wrong?” Her cheek bore scarlet streaks of blood from her fight with the spies. She inspected Mahlah’s robe. “Did his blade strike you?”

Mahlah breathed in, little by little, trying to fill her lungs to speak. Every puff brought a stab of pain.

“My chest struck that heathen’s knee when I dove at his legs.” Her lips trembled, but she attempted a smile. Her mouth tasted of grass and river weeds. “If only you had gotten to your whip sooner.”

“It was only because of you that I could get to it at all.” Noah righted Mahlah’s head covering. The cloth had hung like a braid down Mahlah’s back.

“Mahlah.” Reuben knelt before her. He glanced at their surroundings as if wary of another attack. “What is this about a knife? Were those spies seeking prisoners or sport?”

“Neither.” Noah dabbed at her split lip. “I heard something in the bushes. A faint rustle. I thought livestock had wandered off. When I neared where the spies hid, one reached out and grabbed me.” She rubbed Mahlah’s shoulder. “If my sister did not keep a close watch on us, I would be floating in the river.” Tears welled in Noah’s eyes. “My brave sister.”

“Brave, no. Stubborn, yes.” Mahlah winced. “You would have done the same for me.”

She gripped her side and glanced at Reuben. His hair and beard matched the black of the shrouded sky.

“Why is it that I believe both of you would have come to my aid.” Reuben’s gaze scanned her body, not in a scandalous manner, but as a friend concerned about injury. His breaths puffed like storm winds. “Rest here.” He stood and conversed with another warrior.

Mahlah eased toward Noah and rested her forehead against her sister’s brow. “We have traveled too far, and we have fought too hard not to receive our inheritance.” She struggled to speak. “This land is ours, and I mean to settle it with my sisters. All of them”

“And we will claim our land.” Noah grasped her sister’s arm.

Bracing a hand against the ground, Mahlah rose.

“Sister, can you carry your water jar.” Mahlah took a short breath. “Mine is useless, and I believe we will need to wash.”

“I believe after that fright, I could carry ten vessels.” With a kiss, Noah headed toward the well.

Jeremiah and the shepherd boy rushed into the clearing. They met Noah by the stone wall.

Mahlah took a few steps and then halted.

“You should rest a while more.” Reuben hovered at her side. His beautiful eyes held the same intensity as the night he’d recognized her presence before going off to war. “I could fetch a cart, and you would not have to walk.”

She shook her head.

“You should not wait for me. Your family will be overjoyed to see you.” She took a few steps and stopped. “One time Jonah saw a man in the desert. He was so happy.”

“He thought it was me?”

She grinned. “He thought it was you. He has been watching for your return.”

Reuben matched her shortened steps. The glow of the moon sparked a tiny fire in his eyes. “I pray he was not the only one who watched for me.”

Her heart rate quickened, sending an ache across her rib cage. She pressed down the hope that lingered in his question, lest she stumble and cause herself more pain. More pain from her injury. Carrying a love for Reuben had always caused her pain. “It was by another well, before we crossed the river, that Jonah and I saw a man walking at a distance.” She pushed forward on the path toward camp, joining the fighting men journeying home to their families. Mentioning Moses’ appearance would cause more conversation. She kept that revelation to herself. “Jonah and I both thought the traveler was you.”

He slowed to a shuffle.

“You thought of me?” His voice held a hint of surprise.

How could he not know? Her blood ran hot. If daylight reigned, her neck would have blushed scarlet. She had thought of him more than she should have, and not only during prayers. “At times, I thought of you.”

Reuben stilled. Sheep mulled in the fields. His fellow warriors traipsed toward camp. Rows of tent tops glowed like ghosts in the night, but Reuben did not move. Not toward his home. Not toward anything. Anything, but her.

“There were times I thought of you, too.” His broad shoulders and mane of hair loomed over her. He was not much taller than she, but in the starlight, he was a mountain of a man.

She swallowed, but her saliva stuck in her throat like a mouthful of manna. Shaking her head, she rallied her voice. “I don’t believe it. Was there talk of my thievery of Helek’s cloak? Maybe my forwardness in the assembly.” The ache in her chest overwhelmed her entire body. She dipped around his frame. “I am fodder for gossip, not praise.”

“I do not believe that foolishness.” Reuben stalked beside her. It reminded her of the times when they were children, and he attempted to coerce her to do some task. She usually denied his request, chin upturned, and then did it later anyway.

“Every time I saw new land we had conquered, I thought of you. Every victory brought you to my mind. How you fought for land to carry on your father’s name. How you honored God by seeking His wisdom.” His passionate speech soothed her like cassia balm.

Was this the same man she sent into battle?

“You speak too highly of me.” Her bones grew weary as they passed her flocks. “I think I sought the land out of fear. Fear my sisters would leave me, and I would have nothing.” If only her father had not perished. She willed her eyes not to drip tears onto her cheeks. “I want to make a home out of stone and sit on a stool and watch children race around the yard and wheat grow in the fields and watch my flocks graze on a thousand hillsides. Isn’t that why we battle for Canaan. For God’s gift of land?”

“Yes, Mah—”

“Would you please tell Jeremiah my scratches are not his fault.” Noah interrupted their conversation.

Arms crossed against his tunic, Jeremiah tapped his sandal and sulked. The young shepherd boy hovered at his side.

“You did not send her into trouble.” Mahlah pointed at Jeremiah and waved sideways. She cut her movement short as discomfort seized her. “My sister cares too much.” With a thumb motioned toward Noah, Mahlah placed a hand on her heart and slowly indicated the flocks in the field.

Jeremiah’s expression remained stoic.

“I can tend to her tonight.” Mahlah reached for the water jar. A twitch of pain radiated across her ribs, and she dropped her arm. “She can attend to the herds in the morning.” How on earth would she mimic her words?

Noah feigned being asleep and rested a hand on Mahlah’s shoulder.

Jeremiah backed away, nodding his approval. He motioned for the boy to follow.

“Toda raba,” Noah whispered, facing away from Jeremiah. She propped the jar on her shoulder. “He was flapping his hands so much I thought he would fly away.”

“He cares, sister.” Mahlah glanced at Reuben who continued his escort. “Be grateful.”

“I am. Most of the time.” Her sister marched between Mahlah and Reuben. The clay vessel on her shoulder was a wall forbidding Mahlah to glimpse Reuben’s face.

Reuben had thought of her while away warring with the Amorites. Was it true yearning or loneliness for a woman? Any woman.

When they rounded the path toward their tents, excited voices filled the night. Crying. Happy wailing. Prayers to God.

Nemuel waited outside his tent. Susanna lounged on a stone near the tent flap. A small fire crackled in the cooking pit.

This night, the smoke and ash strangled Mahlah’s breaths.

Susanna shrieked when they came into view. “Praise be to our God.”

Her friend ran and embraced her son. Nemuel almost hopped the distance to Reuben.

Basemath and Jonah emerged from the tent.

Jonah scrubbed a fist over his eye. He stood motionless.

Surely, he hadn’t forgotten his father? Sleep must still shadow his memories.

Go on, Jonah. Run to your father.

And as if he had heard Mahlah’s silent instruction, Jonah sprinted, chubby legs charging toward his father.

Reuben lifted his son. Holding him high, he laughed, large and boisterous.

“My son, you have grown.” Reuben wrapped his arms around his boy like a blanket.

“Did you ever see such a sight?” Noah lowered her jar. “I believe our elder may dance.”

“We should all dance. I shall wait some, though.” Laughter rippled from her own lips. How could she not enjoy this reunion?

Even though he was held fast in his father’s arms, Jonah turned his face toward her.

“Mah.” He reached for her, his fist opening and closing.

That was not her full name.

It came again. “Mah.”

Pressure built behind her eyes. She could not fight the onslaught of tears. One wet traitor slipped over her lid and trailed down her cheek. She was not Jonah’s mother. But oh, how she wished she could be.

She waved her hands to keep Jonah in Reuben’s embrace. She ignored the pulse of pain behind her eyes and forced an elated grin.

“Your father is home, Jonah. He wants to spend time with you. I will see you in the morning.”

Her sisters spilled from their tent. They glanced from her to Noah. Their noses wrinkled in confusion.

Mahlah sniffed and headed to their tent straight away. She had no greeting. No explanation. Nothing.

Hoglah held the flap open. “What is wrong? You have been gone a while.”

From inside the tent, Noah said, “I think she cares too much.”