Rachel (14 page)

Her mother straightened, her dark eyes so similar to Rachel’s, though her once beautiful black hair was now streaked with thick strands of silver. She touched Rachel’s shoulder. “She named him Reuben.”

Rachel winced at the name. “‘He has seen my misery.’” So God really had blessed Leah instead of her.

“When she named him, Leah also said, ‘Surely my husband will love me now.’”

Would he?
Rachel looked away from her mother’s searching gaze. To name him thus would be a constant reminder to Jacob of how Leah felt. He could not call his son’s name without realizing that the son’s mother was miserable, that she wanted his love. Would he give it now, leaving Rachel with nothing? Jacob’s love was all she had.

“Jacob will be pleased,” she said, wishing the words weren’t true.

“Will he?” Her mother glanced in the direction Jacob would take when he returned.

“Of course. What man isn’t pleased to see his son safely born?” She said the words to placate, fighting the rebellion, the hurt stirring in her heart.

“Has anyone told him that Leah’s time was so close?”

Rachel shook her head. “I do not know. Leah might have sent a servant. It was not my place to tell.” Nor did she want to. “Leah did not want me at the birth. She can tell Jacob when he returns.”

Suri stood as if in indecision, her beautiful face lined with concern. “How many days has he been in the fields?”

“Three.”

“How long does he stay away?”

“Sometimes a day. Sometimes a week. It depends.”

“On?”

“On how much fighting and strife there is between us all.” To admit such a thing made her guilt loom larger. She sounded petty and childish.

“Oh, dear child.” Suri placed an arm around Rachel’s shoulders and walked her toward her tent. “Do you still harbor so much anger against your sister after all this time?”

Rachel’s throat grew thick with unshed emotion. She nodded, unable to meet her mother’s concerned gaze. “She conceived a month after her wedding week with him, Ima. Yet I remain a wilting flower in his house! How can God bless her after what she did? Jacob was never meant to be husband to her. He worked seven years for me!” Her voice rose in pitch, and she stopped, hating the whiny quality it took on when she was upset. She cleared her throat and tried again. “He doesn’t love her, Ima. It is I who should have borne his first son. Not Leah. Never Leah!”

Suri led Rachel into the tent and stood in the sitting room, facing her. Her hand was gentle and warm against Rachel’s cheek. “Dear, dear child. We cannot control the gods or determine their will for us. Perhaps it is your bitterness that keeps you from bearing. Anger has closed many a womb, and you wouldn’t be the first barren wife to share her husband with another.”

“I don’t want to be barren!” She felt her defenses crumbling under her mother’s touch.

“And there is no saying you will stay that way. But until Jacob’s God or your father’s gods see fit to bless you, try to get along with your family. Let your husband care for your sister, at least a little.” She stroked her cheek. “Try to imagine what it would be like if you were in Leah’s place.”

Rachel closed her eyes, the words wounding her. For a moment she imagined how it would feel if Jacob left her for Leah, spent every night in Leah’s arms away from her. The thought was unbearable.

And yet it was Leah who held a babe against her breast. Leah who would hand Reuben to Jacob to bless on his knees, whose
very name would cause Jacob to see her differently, to perhaps want to ease her misery, to love her as she wished.

“I try, Ima,” she said at last. “It is easier to be angry and to keep my distance.”

For though she knew her mother’s words were wise, she could not give in to what it would mean to implement them. She could not allow Jacob more time with Leah or Leah’s son. She needed him to give her a son of her own. She needed him for herself.

Jacob walked with hurried steps, thrilled with the news from the servant boy that he had a son safely born. Why hadn’t he been told sooner? But what could he have done if he had? Comfort Rachel? She would be attending the birth, and he would be left pacing before the tent, listening to cries that would pain him to hear.

The thought made him pause and nearly stumble over one of the larger rocks along the path. No, it was better that he had remained in the fields, where he was blissfully ignorant of the goings-on in his household. The bickering between the sisters had grown worse as Leah’s time had grown near. And somehow Rachel seemed to blame him that she had not been first to beget. Did she think him in the place of God to grant a child?

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the frustration from his mind, and lifted his gaze to the sun-drenched blue skies.
Why did You put me in this situation?
I wanted only Rachel.

But God had given him Leah as well, if, in fact, God involved Himself in such situations. He couldn’t exactly blame God for Laban’s deception any more than he could blame Him for his own. Was this strife payment for his sins? He should have offered a sacrifice . . . something! But he could not change things now.

He approached the sheep pens where Rachel’s brother met him.

“It’s about time you got here.” Bahaar embraced him. “You
have a fine son. Hurry! Go and meet him.” He nodded in the direction of Jacob’s tents. “Your son awaits your blessing.”

“You have already seen him?” Somehow Jacob thought Rachel’s brother would be among the last to glimpse his nephew.

He shook his head. “Not yet. But Ima tells me he is strong and healthy.” He shooed Jacob away with one hand. “Everyone has gathered and is waiting for you. Go!” He laughed as Jacob turned and moved toward his tents.

As he crested the rise, he saw that most of Laban’s family filled the area in front of the tents, near the central pit where a fire blazed. Voices floated to him, and he paused a moment, taking it all in and searching for Rachel. Where was she? Surely she would not hide in her tent during the blessing of his son.

He slowly moved closer, his heart aching and joyous, an all-too-familiar mingling of opposite emotions.

“There he is at last!” Leah’s mother, Farah, emerged from the crowd and hurried toward him. “We have been waiting,” she said when she drew closer. “Leah is anxious to see you, for you to see your son.”

Jacob nodded, meeting the woman’s triumphant gaze, and he knew in that look that she was glad it was her daughter who had given Jacob an heir, the first sign of his strength, and not Rachel.

“Come.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Bless your son.”

He followed like an obedient ewe, accepting the well wishes of Laban and his sons, then followed Farah to Leah’s tent. Still no sign of Rachel.

“You cannot touch her or you will be unclean,” Farah was saying. “But you can speak to her and hold the babe.”

“Am I not supposed to bless the babe outside, in the presence of witnesses?”

Farah stopped at the threshold. “You can do that after you see Leah.”

He glanced around, still searching. He looked back at Farah. “Is Rachel in the tent?”

Farah could not hold his gaze but looked over his shoulder into the distance. “I assume she is in her own tent. I have not seen her.”

Jacob touched Farah’s arm. “Why did she not help her sister with the birthing?”

Farah looked at him then, and he caught the slightest flicker of indecision pass over her expression. A deep sigh escaped. “I would tell you that Rachel had no desire to be here. But the full truth is that Leah did not want her company. So they have not spoken, and Rachel is not here.” She crossed both arms over her chest, and the crowd stilled as though listening to their every word. “You must do something to make them get along, Jacob.”

Her comment raised his ire. “Me do something? I cannot control their jealousy. And I will remind you that we would not be in this situation if things had been done as I requested.”

Farah shook her head. “No, but we cannot undo the past. And Leah has given you a son where Rachel has not. So come, see your wife and son.”

Jacob stood still, warring with indecision. At last he turned and found a seat near the fire. He did not care what Laban said or did to him. He would see Leah in his own time. “Bring my son to me,” he said at last.

Farah looked from Jacob to Laban, then moved closer to her husband. “This is not right, my lord.”

Laban puffed on his pipe and looked from her to Jacob, then back again. “The man can do as he wishes with his wife,” he said. “Bring him the boy, and let me see my grandson.”

Farah’s expression darkened, but she did not protest. She turned and went into Leah’s tent, then returned with a swaddled bundle. She approached Jacob and held the sleeping boy out to him. “His name is Reuben.”

He has seen my misery.
Jacob took the boy and looked into his face, his heart pricked with sudden guilt. Whether he visited
Leah or not, she had sent him a clear message. She was miserable, and her son would be a constant reminder as to why.

“She said,” Farah continued, “‘surely my husband will love me now.’” She spoke loud enough for the entire company to hear.

Jacob’s face grew hot. He could not conjure love from nothing. Love was a feeling, a passion, a deep caring, bringing with it purpose and a desire to protect from all harm. Love drew him to Rachel to spend time with her, to grant her every desire. When it came to Leah, he had no love left to give. Rachel used it up, pulled it from him, and wrapped herself in it, creating a tight bond between them. How could he even think to share such a thing with her sister as well?

The thought was ludicrous!

He glanced at Leah’s mother, then down at the baby, his son, who had now opened his dark liquid eyes and seemed to look into Jacob’s soul. Whether he loved the mother or not, this was still his son. The thought warmed him in a way he had never felt before. He stroked the boy’s face with one finger and smiled.

“May you be blessed of Adonai, my son Reuben.” He faced the crowd and lifted the boy for all to see, then pulled him close to his heart. “My son!”

“May he be blessed of Adonai!” Laban said, and his sons and the women of the household said the same.

The noise startled the boy. His lips puckered, and a moment later he let out a lusty cry. Men and women laughed at the joyous sound, and Farah held out her arms to take him. “I will return him to his mother,” she said, tight-lipped.

“Tell Leah I said ‘thank you.’” He would visit her later, after he found Rachel. Somehow he must find a way to ease her wounded heart, and somehow, God help him, he must bring some kind of peace to his household.

12

Rachel slipped away from the commotion, waiting until Jacob was distracted with Leah’s mother, then worked her way up the hill to the sheep pens, following the tree line behind the tents. She could not bear to watch Jacob blessing Leah’s son, nor stand by and watch as he entered Leah’s tent, probably to give her a fond look and thank her for giving him such a sturdy firstborn. If Leah did not want her company, she shouldn’t have Jacob’s either!

She hugged her arms about her, shivering with anger—and fear. Her mother’s admonition to make peace with Leah probably held wisdom. Jacob would surely think so. The thought stung. Would Jacob choose her sister now over her because Leah was fertile and Rachel was not?