Temper The Wind (Ancient Israel) by Boyd Mary Ellen

Author:Boyd, Mary Ellen [Boyd, Mary Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Mary Ellen Boyd
Published: 2013-05-19T21:00:00+00:00

Javan walked quietly up the stairs with the heavy water jar in his arms, hearing no sounds from the room that served as Obed’s dwelling. Sarah had grumbled, and he worried about leaving Taleh in her company. If he were not so constrained by the amount of work he had to do preparing his old home and fields, he would stay with Taleh on this first day. She needed to begin making her way among his people. She could not make a place simply by being his wife.

Somehow his justifications did not still his conscience.

He eased open the leather curtain. Taleh had not heard him enter. She knelt on the floor, wrapped in the blanket. His gifts, Sarah’s gifts through him, still sat in a pile on the floor. She clutched her old yellow robe.

Did she mean to still wear it? Would she reject his gift out of spite?

“Give your old robe to me.” Javan spoke without preamble. Taleh gave a sharp gasp and went completely still. “I must burn our clothes.”

Still she did not move.

“Taleh, you know you cannot wear your robe again. It is worn and dirty, and nothing like what our women wear. It was not . . . appropriate even when new. I am burning my own robe as well. I can provide you with new garments. I do not want you to save it for the memories.” Javan set down the water jar, walked slowly over to her and knelt at her side. He cautiously rested his hand on her shoulder and rubbed lightly. She stayed motionless under his touch.

She did not lash out at him. He took it as a good sign. Taleh slowly let go of the yellow robe. Javan reached behind him for the nearest sack and put it in her hand, tucking it around her clenched fingers. Without once raising her eyes, she hesitated, and then, as though getting a distasteful task over with, thrust it in the sack and shoved the ragged lump at Javan.

“Thank you. I have brought you water to wash yourself. Sarah waits by the table. She will need your help.”

He rose to his feet, feeling as though he should say something more but not knowing what it could be. At the doorway he stopped, struggling to find words to extend as peace offering. “Taleh . . . I have not eaten this morning. I shall wait for you.”

Her nod was a tiny one, but it was an agreement.

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