Pearl in the Sand (31 page)

Salmone frowned. “And it would help if you didn’t look at me with such dread.”

“I’m … sorry.” Rahab faltered, at a loss.

He grimaced. “This is a wretched beginning. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you walked in here when you did.”

“Truly, I didn’t know you were here. I wouldn’t have dreamed of interrupting you if—”

He leaned forward and put a hand on her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. He let his fingers rest against her lips for a moment, and then shifted, removing his hand with somnolent reluctance. “Why do you so often assume that I’m angry with you? Or that I think you’ve done something wrong? I don’t. I think your timing today was extraordinary. I was glad to see you. It confirmed my decision.”

“It did?”
What decision?

“I’ve been thinking of you a lot since I came home.”

Rahab narrowed her gaze. “Indeed?” In spite of her best effort, a hard edge of sarcasm tainted the single word. She closed her hand into a fist.

His responding smile was lazy. “I missed you.”

“Then why did you never come to visit me? You could have come with Miriam if you had wanted. Instead, you avoided me and sent me sheep.”

“I did avoid you. I needed time to sort through my feelings. Seeing you would only have confused matters.”

Rahab grew very still. “You have feelings for me?”

“Surely you must have noticed. Just as I noticed you are not indifferent to me.”

Rahab jerked back. “Pardon?”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.” Rahab did not miss the smug satisfaction that colored the dark eyes.

She shot up in a whirl of motion, intent on leaving. Shame began to cover her like a veil of ice. It was one thing to strive with unrequited feelings of love for the man, quite another to have those feelings discovered, named, and thrown in her face. Salmone stood up at the same time, blocking her path.

“Will you listen to me?” He grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

“I’ve heard enough. Let me go! I’m sure you wouldn’t handle a Jewish maiden in such a manner.”

“No I wouldn’t. But then I’m not about to ask any Jewish maiden to marry me.”

“What?”

“This is what I’m trying to tell you. I came here to think this morning. To decide what to do about you. Perhaps I am being presumptuous, but as I prayed, I felt God’s approval. And for the first time in days, the turmoil that has plagued me turned into unwavering peace. I had just made up my mind to go speak with your father when you arrived. I almost fell over when I saw you. I often
come to this oasis early in the mornings, and I have never before seen you here. And just at the very moment when I had made up my mind to join my life to yours, you came to me. It felt like a confirmation, seeing you in that moment.”

Rahab’s world began to tilt on its axis. Salmone’s declaration started to sink into her consciousness—the meaning, the implications, the outcome. He was changing her whole future with his words. The impossible had happened. Salmone had fallen in love with her. He had gazed into her past and wanted her anyway. Like a person frozen near to death, the thawing came slow. Her heart was hard to convince.

“You really want to marry
me?”

The sound of his laughter, rich and low filled her ears. Instead of answering, he bent his head and kissed her. To Rahab whose mouth was stamped with the memory of a dozen men’s kisses, his caresses came as an utter shock. This simple kiss, this sweet, uncomplicated possessive touching of Salmone’s flesh against hers was a first for her. It was the first time that she kissed a man she loved. It was the first time that a touch rose out of mutual affection, mutual wanting, mutual commitment. She felt as if this was her first kiss. Nothing in all her experience compared to this. A sense of belonging enveloped her, melted her. Salmone lifted his head and she gasped. She felt dazed and disoriented. He studied her wordlessly, his perceptive eyes half-hooded. “You’re always a surprise,” he said and stepped away.

So many questions swirled about in Rahab’s mind she was rendered speechless.
Do you really love me? Do you believe God approves of such a marriage? What will Israel say to our union? Can you forget my past—let it go—live with it?
“Joshua,” she suddenly remembered.

“What will he think?”

“Joshua gave me his approval before I knew for certain how I felt about you.”

Rahab felt stunned. She had expected sober objections if not outright hostility. In spite of his goodness to her, having one of his
great leaders united in marriage with a former
zonah
must represent a disastrous precedent, not to mention an unsavory example. How had she managed to win Joshua’s approval? “I don’t know what to say.”

Salmone wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Say you’ll marry me.”

Flushed and overwhelmed, she repeated, “I will marry you.”

Salmone gave a grunt of satisfaction and kissed her again, a hard and brief kiss that sealed his delight over her trembling flesh. When he drew back, she leaned against him for support, and he laughed softly.

“Rahab, I have one request of you.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to wait long. We are a nation at war. Battles are a certainty. I learned at Ai that I am not invincible. I don’t want to waste the life I have left in the waiting.”

Rahab lifted her head. “I don’t know about this whole proposal. I think you should take time and practice some more.” She felt the rumble of a chuckle against her cheek. The thought that this man had chosen to bind his life to hers was almost overwhelming.

“You are not impressed by my proposal?” he asked. “I suppose I should have held my tongue and gone to your father first, as is proper. But the sight of you loosened my resolve and I blurted my feelings.”

“You did not. You blurted
my
feelings, I thank you.”

He gave a shout of laughter and pulled her closer to him. “Pardon. What else did I do wrong?”

“Just now you hinted at an uncertain future. You should know that I do not cherish the thought of being a widow before I’m a bride. So take this as warning, Salmone Ben Nahshon. Don’t you even consider death and dying.”

“I will do my best to comply.”

“See that you do, my lord.”

“You’re not going to turn into a bossy wife, are you?”

“I said
my lord
, didn’t I?”

Rahab spent the rest of the day in a haze of shock. She would wonder in sudden bursts of disbelief if she had dreamed Salmone’s proposal. Then she would remember his kisses. She could never have imagined those feelings. She knew Salmone would come to her father that very night, come to arrange for the bride price and the betrothal contract. And then it would become official and known to everyone that Rahab the Canaanite was going to marry a leader of the tribe of Judah.

No one else knew her secret yet, and her family gave her strange looks as she walked about as though dazed from a head injury, not hearing their comments, not responding to their requests.

“Are you sick, Rahab?” Izzie inquired in the early afternoon.

“Thank you.” Through an opaque cloud, Rahab registered after she had given her response that her words were an ill match for Izzie’s question. No wonder Izzie, nonplussed, gazed at her in astonishment.

Astonishment, Rahab understood. As the unreality of Salmone’s morning proposal began to settle like fine dust after the pounding of hooves has long passed, Rahab wondered how she could have been so mistaken in his feelings toward her. How had she missed his affection? It had never occurred to her that the man felt deeply for her. Once or twice she had wondered if he desired her. The thought gave her no satisfaction, knowing his strict sense of honor and the resulting resentment he would have both toward himself and her for such unwanted and unwelcome passion. But love? Where had that been hiding?

She knew she had little confidence in herself where Salmone was concerned. In the presence of his clean, blameless past, she felt the sins of her own more keenly. The interiors of her imagination could not stretch enough to allow such a man to love such a woman. She didn’t feel good enough for him.

Surely she would learn to be secure in him once they married.
Surely his love expressed in such a public and binding commitment would sink in and she would learn that she was, indeed, lovable in his eyes? Surely they would make each other happy in marriage, bringing reassurance into the uncertainties of past and present?

Moonlight brightened Salmone’s path when he came to visit his future father-in-law. With him came his sister Miriam, grinning from one ear to the next, and his mother’s oldest niece, Esther, who appeared pale and jarred. Everyone from his father’s line had produced polite excuses for not accompanying him. Joshua strode near Salmone, discussing the details of the coming betrothal. He had not only reiterated his blessing on Salmone’s choice of wife, but had offered to stand in for the father of the groom. His presence soothed Salmone’s hurt at the absence of other kin representing Nahshon’s line.

Imri saw them first as they stepped into his campsite. From his blank face Salmone deduced that Rahab had said nothing to prepare her family for the coming proposal. A wave of amusement washed through him. This ought to prove interesting. The family, drawn by the loftiness of their unexpected guests, gathered round and made their respectful bows. Salmone stretched his neck for a glimpse of Rahab and experienced a stab of disappointment when he found her absent.

With his customary air of authority, Joshua asked to see Imri and his wife alone. In the modest family tent the Jewish delegation was treated with gratifying hospitality. Joshua, sipping from a cup of barley water said, “Imri, we are here for a purpose. I stand in the place of Salmone’s father this night, and I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand.”

Imri looked like he was about to topple over. “Hand, my lord? As in marriage? That kind of hand?”

“Precisely.”

“But your servant only has one unmarried daughter—Rahab.”

“That would be the one.”

Imri’s jowls shook as he turned his head with bewilderment, looking from Joshua to Salmone to his wife. “My lord Salmone wishes to marry Rahab?”

“That’s what I said. So if you are willing, we would like to draw the betrothal contract.”

Imri’s dazed acquiescence at first amused Salmone. But the alacrity with which he agreed to every one of Joshua’s stipulations, and the ridiculous eagerness he displayed to satisfy Salmone’s requests soon began to grate on him. The man practically gave his daughter away for free. The bride price he almost waived, unmindful of the affront it showed to his daughter. Not once did he address Salmone and take him to account as a protective father would have done. Not once did he insist on having his daughter treated well. It was as if he could not believe his good fortune in finding anyone to want Rahab at all. Did Imri not see the value of his own flesh and blood? Why did he not stand up for her? Salmone began mentally to withdraw from the proceedings, trying to calm his increasing anger. By the time Joshua finished the details of the contract, the prospective bridegroom barely knew what he was agreeing upon.

It was time to call for Rahab, and Miriam volunteered to fetch her. Salmone began to unclench his jaw; the thought of seeing Rahab washed away some of his bristling affront. When Rahab walked in, he almost caught his breath. She had dressed in a simple robe the color of cream. About her narrow waist she had tied a woven sash, emphasizing the deep curves of her figure. He stood up and as was customary, took her hand in his and led her to sit next to him. Though her face appeared calm, her fingers were ice-cold and trembling.

“Rahab.” He waited until she lifted her head. “Your father has given his consent that we should be married. Do you also give your consent?” This was, of course, a formality. She had already given her agreement in the dawn hours, and he intended to hold her to it.

“I do.” Her voice came soft and unwavering. Salmone’s heart contracted.

“Your father and Joshua have agreed on a betrothal settlement. Here is your bride price.” He poured a handful of gold coins into her palms. With an instinctive gesture she caught them before they spilled on the floor. The gold, in fact, belonged to her father as long as he lived. But Salmone wanted her to know by this tangible means that her value in his eyes was great.

“I have another gift. This belonged to my mother.” He placed the delicate gold, lapis lazuli, and pearl earrings on top of the mound of coins. “When we left Egypt, the Egyptians gave us articles of silver and gold on our way out. We gave most of it for use in the tabernacle. But many of us still have token pieces left from that season of our history. I remember my mother wearing these. It would please me to see them on you.”

With an almost careless flick of her wrist, Rahab dropped the gold coins Salmone had poured into her hands in order to examine the earrings with minute care. “You’re giving me your mother’s jewels?”

“They will look beautiful on you.”

Rahab caressed the fragile gold and lapis beads that dangled from the frame. Her fingers lingered on the single pearl in the center of each earring. He could tell she was pleased. In comparison to the value of the coins, the earrings were a trifle. Yet somehow they meant more to her.
You’re giving me your mother’s jewels?
she had asked. She was moved by the emotional weight of the gift. Because it meant something to him beyond its material value, she treasured it.