In All Places (Stripling Warrior) (19 page)

Darius sighed.
“I was afraid of that.”

“You knew?”

“I noticed things. I think it troubled him greatly. I’m surprised you knew.”

“He told me.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have. I didn’t notice anything.”

“No,” he scoffed. “I guess you wouldn’t.”

I ignored his rude comment. “What am I to do about it? It appears as though his feelings have not changed, and that they have in fact deepened.”

“Could you return them?”

“No,” I said softly. “Never.”

“Because of Zeke?”

“Because I am a person of honor. It would be too cruel. I love Jarom as I love you, but there cannot be more.”

“I know,” he said.

Dusk was falling over the forest.
I heard an owl in the trees, a wolf in the distance.

“Do you really love him as you love me?” Darius asked after a time.

“No,” I admitted. “But it could never be enough.”

He heaved a burdened sigh and changed the subject.
“What have you been doing in the forest with your weapons? Not hunting. I never see you bring home meat.”

I glanced at him.
“Just practicing. Training.”

“For what?”

“For nothing. It’s dumb. A waste of time.” I sighed deeply. “But it is the only time I feel like myself, Dare.”

“Oh, I understand,” he agreed readily.
“I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Sure. That was our whole life for a long time. Raising sheep and watering the fields is not exactly what I want to do either.”

“What
do
you want to do?” I asked, realizing I had never actually put much thought to his ambitions.

He shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter. But I should have guessed you were feeling this way too. I mean, look at you—you can’t even walk through the forest without feeling you need someone with you. Habits like that don’t just go away.”

I hadn’t re
cognized it, but he was right. Walking through the forest wasn’t even enjoyable anymore because I always felt like something was missing.

But when I ran, light and free, I experienced the old joy.

In that moment, I realized why Gideon had given me the ball. I thought of the countless hours we had spent kicking the ball with our unit, joking and laughing together. And with a sudden warmness in my heart, I thought of the times he and I had played alone, keeping the ball aloft between us while we talked, smiled helplessly, and fell in love.

Men are that they might have joy.

I took the ball from my satchel and ran my thumb over the soft leather.

“What do you have there?” Dare asked.

I gave a prayer of thanks in my heart and tossed the ball high into the air. When it came down again, I hit it with my elbow to my brother, who enthusiastically returned hit for hit.

When morning came, I stepped out of the hut into the silver dawn.
Clouds hung low on the horizon. They were dark but beautiful and full of life-giving water.

I milked
Mui, but I placed a loose rope over Abigail’s neck and walked her over to Chloe’s. I had talked to Mother about giving her back, and she agreed we didn’t need two milk goats.

“Chloe!” I called outside their gate.

When she came through the mat at the door, I saw her look at Abigail and then at me in confusion.

“She misses you,” I said.
“She won’t give sweet milk to me.” I patted Abigail’s head, knelt down and handed the rope over to Chloe.

He
r eyes widened and she threw her arms around me, almost knocking me over with her joy.

“Oh, thank you Ket-ah!”

“You are welcome, little Kanina.” I hugged her back, squeezing her so tight she squealed with laughter.

Isabel came out of the hut then, and she gave a teasing little grimace when she saw that the goat was back.
“Good morning,” she said politely to me as Chloe led the goat into the yard.

Hemni and Dinah came from the hut, talking busily about the day ahead.
When Hemni had tousled Chloe’s hair, winked at me, and patted the goat, he walked out through the gate to go to his tannery for the day. Isabel followed him.

I caught Dinah’s eye.
Isabel was thirteen, and she put in long days sometimes with Hemni. Dinah sighed, exasperated.

“She reminds me of you,” she said, adding a smile to the sigh
. I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or not.

I looked to where Hemni and Isabel were disappearing
into the trees.

“Zeke ought to like that,” I said.
“At Cumeni, after he fainted, the first thing he said when he became conscious was that one of me was bad enough.”

She laughed at this.
“One of you is hardly enough,” she said. “The world needs more girls like you and Isabel.”

“Girls who do
a man’s work?” I asked, frankly surprised at her opinion.

She tilted her head.
“Well, no. Not exactly, I guess. Girls who follow their hearts. Girls who obey the Spirit. Follow their own path. Girls who do not waste their talents simply because someone says it is not right or insists they can’t do it.”

“I wish you would have gotten that idea through to your son,” I said with a little smile.

“Oh, you know Zeke has his own mind and heart. He is a good son. Immovable, stubborn—those can be such good qualities.”

I gave a little snort.

“If they are not met with such stalwart resistance,” she conceded.

I studied her face.
Dinah had kind eyes, lined with many years of laughter, brimming with many years of hardship. She looked at me with faith and love.

I sighed and asked plaintively, “Dinah, do you wish very much for me to marry Zeke?”

She pressed my arm and led me to sit in the courtyard. “I wish very much for you to follow your heart. Does it lead you to Zeke?”

“I do love Zeke,” I told her.
“Very much.”

“
Well, I know that, dear.” She patted my hand and left her hand resting on mine. “You must ask yourself if you can live without Zeke. Can you be happy without him?” She looked to where Hemni had disappeared into the trees. “I once felt as you do.”

I turned my hand into hers and
clasped it. I couldn’t imagine her being conflicted about marrying Hemni. He was so steady, so honest, so hard-working, filled with goodness, and was very handsome besides. He loved her and their children beyond measure.

“It was very much the same
as for you. He was the son of my father’s friend. At the time, I felt my decision was rushed. In the end, my father made it for me because I could not. But I trusted him, and I trusted Hemni. And I trusted that they did not want me to be unhappy. Neither of them wanted my heart to be in turmoil.”

My eyes shot to hers.
She smiled. “And after a time, it wasn’t.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

She laughed. “If you didn’t love Zeke so much, you wouldn’t be so troubled. You are trying to think of a way out of the marriage that won’t cause him pain. It’s just not possible. So you tell yourself you will marry him, and it’s no wonder you look at me with confusion in these sad eyes.”

My heart jumped into my throat.
“Dinah,” I whispered.

She gave me
a grave look. “Even if I had not witnessed Gid kiss you at your gate, did you think your mother would not have told me about him?”

I looked down into my lap, my face hot as coals.

She put her arm around me, encircling me in her warm understanding. “It can be noble to do as your family wishes, my dear, but be honest with yourself and realize that is why you have done it. It takes strength to follow that path.” She squeezed my shoulders. “But it takes as much strength or more to follow a new path, to blindly step where the Lord leads you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Sometimes, the fiercest battles in life are not fought on the battlefield. They are fought inside the heart.”

I put my arms around her and hugged her.
“Thank you, Dinah. I will think on this.”

She
took a deep breath. “Do more than think,” she advised. “You have decided in your mind to choose my son, and I see that you have nothing but turmoil in your heart.” She paused and tried to hide her sadness. “Choose differently, and hear what the Spirit tells you then.”

I was standing at the top of the falls when I saw a band of Nephite soldiers come in on the West Road. This was not an unusual sight. A great many of the striplings had come home when Micah and Darius had, and I still frequently saw soldiers coming and going.

I
thought I recognized the loping gait of the leader of this band of men, and so I ran down to the meadow, strapped on my weapons, and darted through the thick vegetation toward the West Road. I came out ahead of them and waited above the road in the evergreen leaves. My heart filled with excitement as they came around the bend and I could see them clearly.

I slid down the hill on my feet, a skill I
had learned while building the embankment in Judea, and began to walk toward them on the road.

About two units of men approached me, a wide grin forming on their leader’s face.

“I didn’t expect a welcoming committee,” called Kenai.

When he spoke, I broke into a run.
I reached him, and he picked me up and swung me around like a child.

It was strange, but I barely registered it at the time.
We normally weren’t any more affectionate with each another than light teasing. Kenai had gotten taller, and hard, and new scars marked his arms, his temple, and a scary one bisected his throat.

I noticed this all at a glance while I registered the other men
stopping too and pulling up their water skins.

“Are we close then?” one of the men asked.

“Another hour by the road,” someone else answered, and I knew his voice.

I turned and saw Jarom making his way up through the loose ranks.

I was stunned at how much he had changed. He hardly resembled Zeke at all now. He hardly resembled himself. He had cropped his hair very short, and it stuck out in a way that was adorable. But that was the only thing adorable about him. He had developed the muscles I had always sought for myself. He had grown several inches taller, which made his leathern kilt look shorter. He had become broader through the chest and thicker in the arms. He was seventeen, but he was full grown. Like Kenai, he had new scars and his eyes had seen more, much more, than mine had.

The m
en were calling to Kenai, whistling, telling him his girl was pretty. And they were much less polite than I expected them to be.

Jarom stood looking me
over, drinking me in with his eyes, arms folded over his huge chest. He laughed. “Keturah is the captain’s sister!” he called back over his shoulder. “She is
my
girl!” And he picked me up and kissed me, brief but hard and full on the mouth in front of two units of cheering soldiers.

When Jarom set me down, I
slapped his face, much to the amusement of the men. But I couldn’t resist the laughter in his eyes, and my mouth twisted up into a smile despite myself.

I offered to lead them up through the trees and Kenai looked longingly toward them, but in the end decided to continue on the road.
So I traveled with them, flanked by Kenai and Jarom and felt more comfortable than I had in all the time I had been home—well over a year now.

“Are you home for Mother’s wedding?
Will you be going back? Have you been stationed at Nephihah all this time? Was Captain Moroni there? What is he like?”

“Whoa, Ket,” Kenai laughed.
“One question at a time.”

I took a breath.
“Are you here to stay?”

He and Jarom exchanged a glance.
“Yes,” he said.

“Captain.”
Someone had come up beside Kenai as we walked. I leaned forward to peer around my brother and groaned out loud when I saw who it was.

“Allow me to greet your sister,” Mahonri said
with a glint in his eye that looked more like a sneer.

Kenai
drew his knife with a flourish and cast a meaningful look at Jarom. “The next man who greets my sister dies.”

Barks of laughter, guffaws, and challenges went up through the trees, but I noticed Kenai did not sheath
e his knife. These were not the same boys I had gone to war with, boys who relied on the prophet and on the Spirit implicitly. These were men who had fought in the ranks of the regular Nephite army.

When the
soldiers settled back into their own conversations, Kenai asked, “How is Mother?”

“Happy.
”

“I’m happy for her too.
She’s had enough grief.”

“
Much of it caused by you when you joined Moroni’s army.”

“Do not start talking about who has caused Mother the most grief.”

He had a point.

“
We should both be tied up and shot with our own bows,” I conceded.

“I’ll load the arrows,” Jarom offered.

“You’ve caused your own Mother grief,” I told him.

“Nah,” he said.
“She’s got the girls to keep her company. She doubtless barely notices I’ve been gone.”

My eyes shot to his.
“I hope you don’t believe that,” I said.

He shrugged
and grabbed my hand.

This Jarom was very little like the Jarom with the brooding eyes
and slow smile I had left in Manti. The brooding was still there but hidden by these strange smiles that did not ring true. This was a wall, one he did not seem to be letting down. Whether he was protecting himself from my reaction to his arrival home or from something else, I didn’t know, but I would not wall him out. I would be honest with him.

I tried to let go, to shake his h
and away, but he held on tight, teasing me.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“Jarom!” I said. “I should tell you right now that I’m in love with someone else. There can be none of this,” I held our hands up, “between us.”

He dropped my hand and placed his over his heart.
“You wound me,” he said dramatically. But then he leaned in closer and said, “But we don’t need love to kiss in the moonlight.”

Kenai cleared his throat.
“Don’t make me skin you alive.”

Jarom
spared barely a glance for my brother as he snaked an arm around me, inappropriately cupping my waist with his hand. I gave a little yelp, and he drew me to a stop so he could place his other arm around me and pull me much too close to him.

But he had caught my arm between us.
I threw it up and jammed the heel of my palm into his nose, causing it to bleed instantly.

A little blood would not set back a seasoned soldier like Jarom for long, even if I
had broken his nose—which I hadn’t—so I punched him in the stomach and proceeded to drop him to the ground.

The men around us fell silent.

I had my blade at Jarom’s neck.

“No need to skin him, Kenai,” I said.
“I’ll do it myself.”

Jarom stared up at me with fire in his eyes and
deep red blood slowly seeping from his nose. “You’re perfect,” he said.

I tried not to show how his comment pleased me.
I touched the sharp edge of the blade to his skin. “Your mother would have my hide if I skinned you before she can cook you a welcome meal, but I think you do need a shave.”

He reached a hand up and rubbed it over his
stubbled cheek. “Captain, call off your sister.”

Kenai gave a huff of amusement.
He moved off down the road, and the others followed their captain. “Can’t you control your own girl?” he called back over his shoulder.

I glanced up at Kenai’s retreating back, which was a mistake.
No sooner had I done so than Jarom kicked himself up and reversed our positions. He held both my wrists above my head with one strong hand.

I stared up into his face, calmly allowing him to pin me down.
There was no point in struggling. There was no way for me to get up unless he permitted it. We’d wrestled in dog piles with my brothers many times over the years, and when he had been younger and smaller, I had been able to hold my own at times. But not now.

“I mean it, Jarom.
Friendship is all I can offer you.”

“Is friendship all you feel for me?”

I swallowed. There was no way to answer that question. “We’ve been apart so long we’re practically strangers.”

He nodded agreement, but said, “You haven’t changed.
You still fight first and talk later. You still have no idea what you do to a man.”

“And how would a
boy like you know?”

His eyes flashed with hurt.

I swallowed again. “Let me up,” I said.

He immediately moved, got to his feet, and held out a hand
, which I took. We started after the company of men, who were moving along the road with all their gear rattling softly around them.

I handed Jarom
a folded bandage from my satchel for his nose. “Friendship it will be then, Ket,” he said as he absently dabbed at the small amount of blood there. “Only, will you keep your mind open to the possibility of more?”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes sense,” I said.
“I may be the same, but you have changed.”

He slowly let out a deep breath.
“I know.”

“Kenai has too,” I said.

“Kenai has too,” he agreed. “Don’t judge us, though, Ket.”

I laughed a little.
“Don’t forget that I’ve been to war myself. I’ve seen what you’ve seen.”

He stopped walking
, and I drew to a stop too, turning to face him.

“You haven’t.”
His brown eyes became intense. “You’ll get along with both of us better, especially Kenai, if you realize that now.”

I searched his eyes, wishing I knew what he
meant, and I did him the courtesy of not asking more questions.

“Darius will be glad to see you,” I said as I turned to walk again.
“He’s getting pretty tired of hanging out with me.”

“I’ll be glad to see
him too. Has he found a girl yet?”

“Are girls all you think about?
And no, now that you mention it, he has not been looking for a girl.”

“Wise man.
You girls are all trouble.”

“I thought you’d
never
realize that.” I heaved a melodramatic sigh while I wondered silently who else he was talking about.

“Well I didn’t say
you
wouldn’t be worth the trouble.”

“Ha.
Every other man I know has decided I am not worth the trouble. Save yourself the hassle and find a better girl. There are many better girls than me.”

He brushed my hand, but didn’t take it.
“I hope you don’t believe that.”

That startled me.
I did believe it. I considered myself basically unmarriageable and figured any man that Micah wrangled into marrying me would be settling for a very poor wife in exchange for the novelty of having a warrior launder his tunics.

“
Don’t settle on me, Jarom. That’s all.”

“I was right.
You haven’t changed.”

But he was wrong.
I had.

The people of the village were already out on the street greeting Kenai.
The rest of the men had gone on to the city or other towns and villages where their own families lived.

Mother was still hugging him, and Dinah was waiting anxiously near her elbow, probably to demand of Kenai where her second son was.

When she saw Jarom walk into the village whole, healthy, and smiling, she placed her hand over her mouth and her face crumpled—her whole body crumpled—into tears of relief.

Jarom stepped to her and folded her into his arms.
“Ah, mama, don’t cry now,” I heard him say into her hair. I moved away to give them their moment of reunion.

Micah and Darius were working, so as Mother drew Kenai into the courtyard and offered him food, I said I
would go fetch them home.

I stopped to get Kalem, Melia, and Muloki on my way back.
Kalem and Muloki were hauling their goods into the lean-to on the back of the hut. It was full, so I knew they would be setting out in the morning for other markets.

“Mother wishes you all to come for the evening meal tonight
to celebrate Kenai’s homecoming.”

Kalem’s
face lit as if it were his own son returning.

“What can I bring?” asked Melia.
“Bread? I have some made.”

“That would be perfect, thank you.”

Melia made the most wonderful bread from wheat and other grains. I couldn’t believe I had gone my whole life eating only corn cakes.

“I’ll hurry with the inventory,” Muloki said, and I watched as he returned to the merchant’s cart at the back of the courtyard.

“Do you travel as far as Judea to market?” I asked Kalem.