Building Benjamin by Barbara M. Britton

Author:Barbara M. Britton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian Fiction
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2017-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

16

Cuzbi cackled as they marched toward the house of Berek. She seemed too gleeful for having set their courtyard aflame.

“How did the fire start?” Naomi asked.

“Some kindling ignited and burned your herbs, but I do not believe the flames were as large as the ones blazing in that sunken cave.”

Naomi’s eyes widened. “Surely you do not think?”

“Do not be ashamed.” Cuzbi stifled another giggle. “You heeded my words and seduced him. I must confess I was worried that after his fall he would not be a fitting husband. Crushed by rocks and everything.” Cuzbi veered in the direction of the cooking courtyard and let her wanton words trail off. “I am glad you are making an effort. A little boldness becomes you.”

Pressing her lips together, Naomi held her reply. The only boldness she showed with Eliab was asking for a betrothal. And now after all the hours she had spent with him, she almost wished she had not made a vow to keep herself from him.

“Eliab and I are getting to know one another. In our own time.”

“So I see.”

Rubbing her temples, Naomi sought to end Cuzbi’s banter. “I do not need advice. My mother spoke outright when I went into the vineyards.”

“Oh, come now. You need some encouragement.” Cuzbi laughed as she flung open the gate. “I had to practically pull you into the procession of dancers at the festival.”

“I would have shown myself to the crowd in good time.”

“In good time may not have been the right time. You needed me to coax you to the front.”

“And look what we reaped. We were the first ones plucked by the Benjamites.” Naomi bent to pick up a jar. She stood and positioned a jug on her shoulder. “I am learning to live in this land, but I cannot help but struggle with the manner in which these men sought us out. My father was not shown any respect. What time was my mother given to arrange her household without a daughter to assist her?”

Cuzbi seized a vessel lying near the fire pit. “Your husband is the son of an elder, and from what I saw in that pit, you are encouraging his affections.”

“What other choice have I been given?”

“None. But Eliab is your best choice. Throw your lot in with him and stop thinking too much.”

Without thinking too much at all, Naomi knew she liked Eliab’s strength, faith, and character.

Swinging her jar, Cuzbi quick-stepped past the ashen remains of dried plants. “I bartered beside my father in the market for two years. I said it was this price, and it was so. Did the landowner not say to you, ‘Pick this row’ or ‘Till this soil’? My father told you what to weave and it came forth.”

Cuzbi drew to her full height as Naomi darted through the courtyard gate ahead of Cuzbi.

“Accept your fate as I have and stop waiting for another to tell you of your blessings.”

Naomi whirled around. “And what of my brothers who died upon these rocks? I worked to make up their wages.

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