Journey to the Well: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

with her when she took the sheep to the fields. Then, one day, as she returned, it had fallen out of the folds of her mantle. Reba had snatched it up and noted the fine workmanship.
    “Where did you get this?” she demanded.
    “The shepherd made it for me. He carved it.” Marah waited anxiously for Reba to return the flute.
    “You have more important duties to attend to while looking after the sheep, such as making sure we have enough yarn! You can spin from your distaff to the spindle if you have that much free time. You are too old for such foolishness!” Reba chastised.
    Marah watched helplessly as her aunt bore the beautiful little flute away and hid it somewhere among her things. With a sigh, Marah turned away, wondering what to tell Jesse.
    When Jesse noticed the absence of the flute, she had told him sadly where it had gone.
    Anger blazed on Jesse’s young face. “Reba took the flute away?” He would not let Marah make excuses for her. “Are you the only one in the village who cannot see what kind of a woman she is?”
    “Reba is all the family I have,” Marah reminded him.
    Jesse snorted in disgust.
    It seemed like only yesterday. Then, aware Jesse was speaking again, she turned from her thoughts.
    Venting his anger, Jesse almost spat the words. “So now Reba arranges a marriage for you to Zibeon. He is too old for you! When I think of the two of you together and the wedding.” He paused and Marah lowered her eyes. “If Zibeon hurts you—” His voice trailed away as if he could not speak the thoughts he contemplated in his heart.
    The bleating of the sheep brought Marah back to reality.
    She ran her hands gently over the new little flute, feeling its smoothness. “Oh Jesse, I shall treasure it always.” Wrapping the flute gently in the lambskin, she would have taken it with her, but then she remembered Reba. She looked sadly from the flute to Jesse.
    Sensing her dilemma, Jesse gently took the flute and put it back under the stone. “It will be our secret. Reba shall never know.”
    Marah nodded and tried to smile. “It will be our secret, Jesse. I will always remember you as my friend.”
    “And I shall remember you as my friend,” he answered.
    Marah looked into his earnest face. She could not touch him she knew, but like gentle fingers, her eyes caressed his face.
    Rising slowly, she adjusted her mantle. “I must cut some wild mustard to take home.”
    Jesse glanced at the sheep, grazing peacefully, and surveyed the surrounding pasture. All was peaceful.
    “Let me help you,” Jesse offered. It would prolong the time.
    They walked together on the hillside, cutting the wild plants and glancing back from time to time to make sure all was well with the sheep.
    “I must return. I am to prepare the house for our betrothal ceremony tonight. Oh Jesse, I . . .” She strove to hold back the tears and be strong for them both.
    The anguish in his face nearly broke her, but she knew she must not allow Jesse to embrace her. She was a betrothed maiden, and if anyone saw them, she would be compromised.
    Greater than their longing to touch one another was the fear of consequences. She knew Jesse would protect her every way he knew.
    “God go with you, Marah,” Jesse said, stepping back. He stood tall and straight. Marah thought he had never looked so handsome.
    “God be with you also, Jesse,” she said. Turning away, she held her tears until she was far enough away. She did not look back.

4
     
    Z ibeon was in fine spirits. He and his brother Shimei had consumed several cups of wine. Usually Shimei skulked about the house and stayed out of Zibeon’s way. They had never gotten along, even as children, and there were frequent quarrels between them. Zibeon had taken out his temper on Shimei on more than one occasion, but Shimei never told on his older brother. It wouldn’t have done him any good. Their mother, Athaliah, doted on her eldest son and catered to him. He was the image of her late husband.