"Good, you're finally awake!" Laban waddled over to Rachel as she exited her tent, his red robe almost the same shade as his face.
"Morning, Father," Rachel greeted him. He barely acknowledged her, muttering to himself about the tumult of the morning's proceedings. She tried to get his attention by speaking once more. "Are the traveling merchants being well looked after?"
He surveyed the parade of men heading toward the eating area: a collection of rugs, mats, and pillows where people sat passing large clay bowls filled with thick slabs of barley bread, cucumber slices, olives and mint leaves, yogurt and olive oil. Two of her father's younger shepherds, Eli and Achan—troublemakers, both—juggled figs. Achan waved to Rachel; she'd always suspected he had more than friendly feelings for her, despite her betrothal to Jacob. Upon seeing Laban, he dropped his figs and pretended to help his father with gathering breakfast.
"They would be if they had some cool water to drink along with our meal. They would buy more hides and wool if they were well looked after, but as usual your sister is nowhere to be found!" His eyes surveyed her pointedly and she nodded, happy to help.
"Of course, Father. I'll walk to the well and fetch some."
"Good. Ach, Jacob is the only one who knows how to set these tents up straight!"Laban said, waving his hand at several men floundering under goatskins as tent poles collapsed. "Leave them, leave them! Jacob will do it!" He turned his attention back to Rachel.
"And if you see Leah, tell her I am growing tired of her absence during these proceedings. There are rich tradesmen from along the Perath whodeal in gold. Some spice traders are here, who deal in many foreign markets ..."
"Father—" Rachel tried to tell him Leah was going to the riverbank, but he was intent to ramble.
"There's the lapis lazuli salesman from Babylon, and the gentleman who owns a purple dye business in Tyre, he must be very rich—"
She touched his shoulder. "Abī, Leah will come around, I promise. I'll talk to her. When the wedding is over ..."
His gray eyes descended on her. "I've been hearing 'when the wedding is over'for seven years. Lest you forget, beloved daughter, I did not receive the mohar on your betrothal to the Canaanite."
The bride-price. Rachel's blood simmered at the insults—her father had not acknowledged his arrangement with Jacob.
"We've paid our debt, Abī. Jacob has worked hard with your flocks for seven years now and has doubled their number. You've already earned back your mohar in the time we could have been giving you grandchildren."
Almost as quickly as she spoke, she reined in her anger. Bite your tongue. You are not the defiant daughter.
"I am growing old, Rachela ..." Laban said, rubbing his temples with two fingers.
Rachel sighed, knowing exactly what he would say, having heard it countless times before.
"And without your sister's future secured, I am bleeding shekels to support her. And bleeding shekels that we don't have on this wedding! So you had best make sure,"he hissed under his breath, waving at a group of men walking by them, pretending to smile, "that she is presentable tonight at dinner, with a spirit amenable to finding herself a husband."
With that, he turned and ran toward the riverbank, barking insults and commands like a mad dog at the servants setting up the wedding tents.
"You really should get him some water, before he has a fit."
She turned to see Levi, the beekeeper. In addition to the expanding flocks,, Laban's growing honey trade was the talk of all the merchants in Haran. During the drought season when livestock suffered, the honey was a boon to the camp's business. It was no secret that was why he invited so many visiting merchants to the wedding; not just to secure a marriage for Leah, but also to introduce his product to other markets. East in Babylon, perhaps, or even south in Canaan, where Jacob's family lived.
She had known Levi for almost five years, but it always struck her how much paler he was than the people in Haran. His skin was protected from the harsh sun and beestings by his thick clothes and hat with the woven mesh face. His golden locks made him stand out in any crowd, but he was quiet—almost brooding—in a way that made him often seem invisible.
"Have you seen Jacob yet this morning?"she asked as he walked over.
He shook his head, his long hair falling in front of his eyes. "He was tending to the sick lambs in the pasture the moment the sun rose. But if he doesn't help Laban soon, he might call the whole wedding off."
Rachel felt herself go warm and waver slightly where she stood. Levi stepped closer and reached out a hand in apology. "I'm sorry, that was a poor joke. Timing has never been a strength of mine."
She caught her breath and smiled, but didn't take his hand. Levi was not of her father's faith either but believed in Baal, the chief god of Tyre. She had heard rumors that where he came from, women and men could touch even if they were not married to one another. Sometimes he forgot the customs of Laban's camp.
"All is forgiven. I'm just nervous, of course. It's been so long."
A shadow of something crossed Levi's expression—something dark, almost like regret—but it was gone before Rachel could comment. He withdrew his hand."Of course. I should leave you to it. I'll be with the hives. We have some nice honeycombs I want to melt today for your father's honored guests."
Levi bowed his head as he walked past her, his gait solemn and sturdy. Rachel continued throughout the camp, nodding to those pegging open their tent flaps and others sitting in small circles, preparing breakfast.
Laban's camp rested below the intersection of two rivers, in the center of the rocky plains. As Rachel left the tents behind her and headed farther along the riverbank, she looked back at the stiff mountain peaks in the distance, far beyond the rich pastureland her father owned. Ahead of her was the river, and a group of children ran along the riverbank, dipping in and out, splashing one another as their mothers yelled at them to stop playing and wash.
Rachel entered the grove of dark trees at the bend in the river, standing like tall soldiers in a land of fields and pastures. In the center, in a clearing, was the stone-lined well which provided the camp with cool, clean drinking water, uncontaminated by the herds and the swampy warmth of the sun. Rachel pushed hard on the well stone that kept dust, leaves, and animals out. It usually took two women to do it and now, by herself, she broke into a sweat.
Suddenly, a pair of powerful, roughened hands covered hers on the stone. A man's chest pressed into her back and she gasped, but not out of shock or fear. She knew this man. She had memorized his touch; even the pattern of his beating heart thundering through her ribcage was recognizable to her. It was a song only she could hear.
Jacob. He found her by the well, just as he did all those years ago.
****
Click the next chapter to find out what naughty business Rachel and Jacob get up to at the well.
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SIN and HONEY: Seven Years of Longing
RomanceSo Jacob served seven years, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her. —Gen.29.20 Rachel was destined to love at first sight. Leah's only crime was falling for the wrong man. In Taryn Scarlett's richly lyrical novell...
