Pearl in the Sand (41 page)

“I will leave if I must. Right now I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”

“Perhaps we should go inside.”

Salmone realized suddenly that he had been clutching his wife outside their tent in plain view of any neighbor who might happen to wander outdoors. Night had fallen, providing a cover of sorts. But he would rather have some dregs of privacy. Shifting his weight, he hefted Rahab into his arms and walked into the tent. She clasped him about the neck, her head against his heart. In her long-fingered fist, she clutched the earring. He smiled at the sight of it—at the sight of her.

Once inside, he sat down on a rug, leaning against a post, Rahab still in his arms.

“Let me fetch you some food and drink,” she whispered.

He almost shook his head to deny her suggestion when it dawned on him that she must be utterly worn out from weeping, and from the emotional strain of what had happened. Food and drink would do her good. “I’ll fetch us some,” he said.

She gave him a dismayed look. “That’s my job. You’ve worked endless hours, and Joshua might still call you back. I can at least do this for you.”

“Any day—every day—for the rest of our lives, if you want. But tonight, let me take care of you.” To his delight, she nodded, though he could tell that it came hard to her, this giving over to his care. He wanted her to understand that she was not a burden to him, that caring for her did not make her less precious in his sight.
Years. I’ll need years to teach her that
. He managed to find leftover sweet cakes from the night before and cheese and stale flat bread. She made the best barley water he had ever tasted, and long ago he had learned where she stored it. Bringing over the whole earthen vessel, he set it next to them along with the deepest cups he could find.

Before eating, he blessed God as was his habit. But he took time to pray longer, to praise God for His provision and guidance and mercy. He praised God for his wife, for their marriage, for their future, for the plans God had for them whatever they be. And he praised God for opening his eyes and Rahab’s to truth. Joy and hope overflowed out of him as he spoke to the Lord, for he knew that this was all His doing. Only God could take a lost earring and turn it into an instrument of healing.

S
almone was relieved when Ezra returned bearing the message that Joshua had excused his absence and did not require him to come. He watched Rahab offer their guest a plump cushion and barley water. Salmone frowned; he wanted her to rest this night and not run about burdened with duties. He scowled at Ezra when Rahab offered him some food and relaxed when Ezra hastily refused.

“The visitors have come from a distant country,” their guest said after taking a sip of his drink. “When Joshua asked them why they had come to us, they replied that the fame of the Lord has spread far and wide. They know we’ve defeated Og and Sihon, and they have heard of the miracle of our escape from Egypt. So the leaders of their nation have dispatched them here to make a treaty of peace with us.”

“How do we know they are what they say?” Salmone asked. “How do we know they don’t live nearby? We can’t make a treaty of peace with neighbors.”

“Joshua said the same. But they had the leaders of Israel examine their provisions. Their bread was moldy, their wineskins cracked,
and their clothes and sandals worn out as by a long journey.”

“I see. I take it we will be praying and seeking God’s will before responding?”

“Well … no, actually. As it happens, the leaders thought the evidence good enough to make a decision. They gave their word to make a treaty with these people.”

“Without inquiring of the Lord!”

Ezra held up a hand in a gesture of surrender. “I’m only the messenger. All I know is that the other leaders were convinced of the delegation’s claims.”

Salmone took a deep breath. “Pardon. If I wanted to voice my opinion I should have gone to meet the delegation.” He turned to Rahab. “And I don’t regret not going.”

“Speaking of going,” Ezra said as he rose to his feet, “it’s time I found my own tent.”

Salmone and Rahab rose up with him. “Thank you for bringing me the news, Ezra.” They walked him partway down the trail that led out of their tent before returning home.

Ezra’s departure reminded Salmone that the hour had grown late, and that he was weary. “Let’s go to bed,” he said to Rahab, studying her from beneath lowered lids. Try as he might, he could not keep his voice light. It grew husky with emotion. The thought of Rahab and bed in one sentence tugged so many strings in his mind and body he almost couldn’t breathe.

He had to set his longings aside, however. She was not ready. Just because she had taken a significant step did not mean he should pounce on her. A sense of loss—of anger even—for what had been stolen from them settled over him. He made the decision not to give in to such discouragement. His job was to take back the territory that had been stolen, to reclaim every particle of Rahab’s mind, heart, and body from the ravages of the past. One day, with their relative Joseph, he would be able to say about everyone and everything that had harmed his wife, and thereby him, “You intended it for evil, but God meant it for good.” Like Rahab’s snake, like his own
near-fatal wound, like the lost earring, God could take the very worst and use it for good. In the meantime though … in the meantime, he had to grit his teeth and abide.

The night had turned unseasonably warm, and Rahab joined him in bed wrapped in a light shift. Half of him longed to hold her close, to experience that incomparable sense of connectedness. The other half groaned with the frustration of holding her, but only so far. She took the decision out of his hands by snuggling against his body with a shy wriggle of arms and legs. He knew how much such an overt demonstration of affection cost her, knew that she usually feared rejection too much to reach out to him first. Not for the world would he withdraw from her now. Twisting his body, he reached for her and pulled her close. The scent of her hair, infused with roses and some indefinable element that was pure Rahab, filled his mind. Without his own volition, he bunched his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back for his kiss. It wasn’t a kiss of comfort, of gentle contact, of belonging. It was a searing kiss of passion and wanting and need. He tingled with the desire to have her, and his kiss told her so as it hungrily drank in everything she had to give. More than anything, he wanted her to feel this way about him, to long for him as he did for her.

She was soft in his arms. Yielding. Everything about her fit him so right. It required a prayer, a silent desperate cry to the Lord, to stop him.
O God, give me the strength to wait
, he cried in mute anguish before withdrawing.

It took awhile to calm his harsh breathing. “A foretaste of things to come,” he murmured with a lopsided smile.

She gazed at him large-eyed. “You … you really know how to do that well,” she said, her voice breathless.

It dawned on him that she was deeply affected by his touch, that she had felt a portion of his own churning need. His impatience quieted at the knowledge. Unable to stop himself from grinning, he whispered, “You can count on it.” He kissed her again, this time taming his need and basking in the joy of her awakening
wonder. His body’s satisfaction might have to wait, but his soul was well pleased.

“I forgot to tell you!” Rahab burst out, sitting up straight.

“What? What did you forget?”

“My father is giving a feast in honor of Izzie and Gerazim tomorrow evening. We are to go to their tent after sunset.”

“Ah. I’m afraid I’ll be late. No doubt you’ll want to go early and help them prepare?”

“If it’s all right with you.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

Salmone found visiting his in-laws a chore. He had a hard time letting go of his anger against Rahab’s parents. Because he knew better than anybody the price their choices had exacted from their daughter, he found it torturous to sit around and pretend everything was well. Sometimes he ached to scream at the man and woman who had sold their daughter for the sake of gold. He wanted to ask if they had any idea what their full bellies had cost her. Years of leadership had taught him to control his temper. The frustration, however, would only be ruled and not banished. He chafed at the necessity of holding his silence, knowing that to be the best course for his wife.

Clamping down on a sigh, he drew Rahab closer and settled for sleep. One evening of suppressed resentment would not kill him.

Rahab spent half the night going over the inconceivable discovery that God truly valued her. Not the course of her whole life would be sufficient to wipe the memory of that moment of comprehension from her mind. It was as if a shaft of love pierced her walled-in soul, and she felt for the first time that she was loved beyond reason, and esteemed far beyond what she deserved. Seeing this glimpse of God’s heart opened a doorway for understanding that even a man like Salmone might love a woman like her. She was worth being cherished by such a man. It had been years since she’d
nurtured such a hope.
Worth being cherished
.

In those moments of dizzy revelation, of feeling immersed in love and acceptance, she had heard the unmistakable whisper of the Spirit of God in her soul. “You are My gift to Salmone. You are the treasure I wanted him to have.” Though he was doubtless a gift to her, she realized God had blessed Salmone by giving
her
to him, because in God’s sight, she—Rahab—was a treasure.

And so when Salmone held her with such indescribable tenderness and whispered that he loved her … she believed him. For the first time ever, she believed him in the depths of her heart. She felt secure in his love.

Rahab was mature enough to realize that she would have to take more steps in this journey of wholeness. She knew that other circumstances might shake her assurance or diminish her confidence. But having come through the darkest valley, she now understood that God would see her through other battles. He would shatter other lies that lingered in her soul and, bit by bit, set her free.

In Jericho, when she had first placed her faith in the Lord, she had known Him to be mighty. Great. But last night she had tasted of His goodness. She had learned to place her faith in His mercy. He bestowed His love where undeserved, and His great worth on His children who could not earn it.

Izzie had learned this lesson with her pregnancy. She would appreciate Rahab’s sense of wonder and gratitude in a way that no one else could. The thought of spending a whole day in her sister’s company made Rahab hurry through her morning chores with a smile. Even the grueling task of preparing for a large feast under her mother’s direction could not diminish Rahab’s joy. This was a day of celebration—for Izzie and Gerazim, and in the secret places of her mind, for her and Salmone.

The sun seemed to move with perverse sluggishness that day. Even Izzie’s precious company could not distract Rahab from her sense of impatience to be with her husband. She missed him. Following the overwhelming closeness of the previous evening, his
absence left a hole. She told herself that she was behaving like a young virgin, mooning after a man she had seen just that morning. Her best cynical lecture fell on deaf ears. She didn’t care if she was acting with the impetuous longing of the young. She wanted her husband, and he would be late on this night of all nights.

The grounds surrounding the family tent overflowed with guests by early evening, testimony to the new acquaintances the men had formed as they helped the tribes of Israel with the challenges of farming. An herb-stuffed lamb roasted on a pit, sending mouthwatering aromas into the air. Rahab milled about, offering fresh pan bread. The bread would be used in place of plates when the lamb was served. Rahab felt her stomach rumble and remembered that she had not eaten since morning when she had broken her fast with Salmone. She stretched her neck this way and that, hoping to catch sight of him as he arrived.

Joa carved the lamb, and Rahab began circulating a heavy platter loaded with pieces of choice meat. A man who seemed vaguely familiar cut her off as she walked by him.