Bathsheba by Jill Eileen Smith

Author:Jill Eileen Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group

Bathsheba picked at the meal Tirzah had set before her, the fear in her heart swiftly replacing the hunger in her middle. Uriah’s expected visit had put the household on edge, and now the tension, the whispers, and the looks cast her way over his all-too-obvious absence stole her appetite and her hope. Why did he not come?

Tirzah closed the doors to the cooking room and joined her at the table, sitting beside her on the bench. “Word has it Uriah is still in Jerusalem,” she whispered close to Bathsheba’s ear. “Anittas returned from the king’s house after he spoke with Uriah. Apparently the king spoke with the master this morning and instructed him to remain in Jerusalem another day. The master had planned to leave for Rabbah this morning, but the king is keeping him here until tomorrow. Perhaps he will come home today before he leaves.” She touched Bathsheba’s arm, her look comforting. “You must not lose hope.”

Bathsheba closed her eyes as she slowly shook her head and looked down. “He will not come home.”

Tirzah touched a plate of ripe dates. “It’s still possible. Come, you must eat something.”

“If Anittas spoke to him, all is lost.”

Bathsheba looked up to see Tirzah’s emphatic shake of her head. “Anittas only spoke with him to settle some questions about the estate. He said nothing of you.”

Bathsheba quirked a brow and leaned away, assessing her servant. “How do you know this? You could not possibly have followed him or gotten close enough to hear their conversations.”

Tirzah crossed her arms over her chest. “I asked Anittas to tell me straight when he returned. He would not lie.”

Bathsheba looked toward the window at the morning light streaming in through the lattices. “Everyone lies if it is to his or her advantage.” She pushed away from the bench and walked to the window. Servants worked in the open courtyard, the one adjacent to their neighbor’s, grinding grain and sifting wheat for the evening meal. Such normal daily tasks. She placed a hand to her middle, where the child lay helpless, defenseless. Would he or she live to see such tasks? Or would the child die within her battered body, beneath a pile of stones?

A shiver shook her, and she gripped both arms, holding herself tight against the onslaught of fear and truth and emotion. The sound of Tirzah clearing away her uneaten meal reached her consciousness, reminding her that while she lived, there was work to be done. Uriah had one more day in Jerusalem. She must prepare his favorite meal, just in case.

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