Unshaken (16 page)

So why this unending sorrow? How dare she ask for more? And yet . . . how she longed to make her husband happy!

Oh, Boaz, my Boaz!

She spent her days waiting for him to return home. She melted when he smiled at her, even if it was a fatherly smile. Just the sound of his voice made her heart sing. When he touched her, she trembled.

But Boaz was at home less and less. And she could think of only one reason why he would absent himself so much of the time. He could not return her feelings and felt uncomfortable in her company. For surely he had sensed how deeply she loved him.

She had prayed that God would make her content to spend the rest of her life on the periphery of her husband’s life, content in his contentment. She wanted to be a part of Boaz’s life, wanted him to trust her enough to share his struggles and triumphs, wanted to be part of
him.
But it seemed that Boaz didn’t share her desire.

“What is it, my daughter?” Naomi said, holding Ruth’s hand between her own. “What is causing you such grief?”

“I love him. I love him so much it hurts.” She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, even Mahlon.

“And you haven’t told him.”

“I don’t want to embarrass him.”

“Embarrass him? Is it better if he thinks he’s failed as a husband?”

Ruth drew back. “He hasn’t failed!”

“Anyone can see you’re unhappy.”

“Because he stays away, Mother.” She rose from her loom and moved away, restless. “Because he’s never home.”

“My dearest Ruth, a man who marries late in life has little knowledge of how a woman thinks, let alone a young woman in love. He probably stays away because he believes it will make you happy.”

Ruth blinked and looked back at Naomi. She’d never considered that.

“Boaz is only a man, my dear, and men are not always as strong as they portray themselves. I imagine Boaz thinks of himself as a much older man than his lovely young wife, too old for her to love. You could crush his heart with a word.”

“I want to make him happy.”

Naomi smiled. “Then accept this old woman’s blessing, and
do so.
”

Naomi was not content to leave things as they were. Her daughter-in-law had been bold once for her sake, but Naomi doubted she would have the confidence to reach out and grab hold of anything for herself. Naomi left the house soon after speaking with Ruth. She said she was going to visit a sick friend. She made her way straight to the city gate, where she knew she would find Boaz. He was there, as usual, and in his usual place. He saw her coming and looked troubled, even more so when she beckoned him. With a word to the other chief men, he rose and came to her. “Is something wrong?”

“All is well,” she said.

“Then why do you look the way you do?”

“What way do I look?”

“Like a woman ready to do battle.”

He was blind only when it came to his young wife. “Can we walk together and talk somewhere that people won’t be listening to our every word and watching our every move?”

Frowning, Boaz fell into step beside her, matching his pace to hers as she walked out of Bethlehem. She said nothing for a long time. Let him stew and wonder. Let him
ask.

“Did Ruth send you?”

“No, she didn’t send me. I came of my own accord. Someone has to light a fire under you.”

“A fire?”

She stopped and looked up at him. “There are times when a man can safely put his heart above his head, Boaz.”

He stepped away uneasily. “What are you talking about, Naomi?”

“What do you think I’m talking about? You love her, don’t you?” The color that poured into his face was all the answer she needed. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “When do you intend to tell her you married her for reasons other than honor and legal obligations?”

“She knows,” he said dully.

Naomi threw her arms in the air. “And how would the girl know?” She paced back and forth in front of him. “You managed to stay home with her for the seven days of the wedding celebration, but then you dove back into your life as usual. You spend every waking hour overseeing things your overseer gets paid to oversee. And if you’re not about your own business, you’re tending everyone else’s business at the gate. You treat Ruth like a guest in your house! She is
your wife!”

She stopped reproaching him, satisfied with his stunned look. She pulled her shawl tightly around her and glared up at him. “I knew about Rishon, Boaz. Did you think I could spend a whole month in Bethlehem and not know about every living relative and friend I’d left behind? I didn’t want Rishon to have Ruth! Would he hold her in the esteem you do? Would he love her? I watched you sitting at the city gate, and I saw the way you looked at my daughter-in-law when she was coming in from your fields. And I praised God for you and the feelings you had for her! That’s why I sent Ruth to you. I sent her to you because
you loved her.
”

“Yes, I love her,” he said roughly. “And now you have a son to carry on Elimelech’s name. What more do you want from me, Naomi?” He turned away and raked a hand back through his hair.

She let out her breath. Compassion filled her, along with an aching regret. “I want you to be happy, Boaz. I want you to accept the gift I gave you.”

“I have accepted Ruth.”

“No, you haven’t.”

He turned and looked at her, his eyes dark with pain. “Her son will have everything I own. Is that not acceptance? Does that not show how highly I esteem her—and you?”

“Ruth is in love with you, Boaz.”

He stared at her. “What?” She’d never seen a man look more astounded. “What did you say?”

“I said . . . Ruth . . . is . . . in . . . love . . . with you.” She spoke slowly, as she would to a child slow to understand.

“She can’t be.”

“Why?” Though it would hurt, she needed to speak plainly. “Because I was blind to your beauty? And you are beautiful, Boaz, beautiful in all the ways that count, all the ways that last. Ruth sees you more clearly than I ever did, my dear, dear friend. Now, it’s you who must open your eyes and see the girl you married.”

“Should I believe the impossible?”

“Is anything impossible with God? I have prayed for this to happen. I know a dozen others who have prayed as well. Half of Bethlehem prays for you and Ruth! Does God not hear our prayers? Do you know how many people in Bethlehem watch and wait for the Lord to bring the greatest blessing of all upon you both?
Love
. And now He has.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“You can say this with the same mouth that praises God who performs miracles? I know of what I speak. I left her, weeping, not long ago.”

“Weeping?”

“Because you’re never home where you belong.”

He stood a moment, silent, and then he laughed, amazed.

It was good to hear him laugh, even better to see the light in his eyes, a light she had never seen shine so brightly.

His smile softened, his eyes searching hers. “It is strange, isn’t it, Naomi? I loved you once.”

“And I was a thoughtless, shallow, young girl.” She came close and put her hand upon his arm. “Now I’m your mother-in-law,” she said with a sly grin. She gave his arm a playful slap. “So show some respect for an old woman. Go home,
my son.
Go home to my daughter, Ruth, who loves the ground you walk on.”

Boaz leaned down and kissed her cheek. “May God bless you, Naomi,” he said hoarsely.

Naomi watched him stride away. She shook her head in wonder that Ruth and Boaz could have so little confidence in themselves. Ah, but they had unshaken faith in God. And that was a good thing. No, it was the best thing of all. For God would never disappoint them.

Turning her back, Naomi blinked back tears as she looked out over the harvested fields. She thought of Elimelech. She thought of Kilion and Mahlon and ached with her losses. And yet, she thanked God as well, for despite their many sins, as well as her own, their names would not die out after all.

Boaz’s throat was tight, his heart pounding, as he entered the house. “Ruth?”

“I’m here!” She sounded surprised. When he entered the main chamber, he saw her rise and step out from behind her loom, tense and wide-eyed. “Boaz.” She blushed. “You’re home early.”

“Do you mind?”

“Oh, no. Of course not.”

He walked toward her, searching her face. Her cheeks were deeper pink than usual. Her eyes widened even more as he came closer. She lowered her head. Was he making her uncomfortable? She reached out and fingered the cloth she was weaving, then put her hand quickly at her side. He’d never seen her more nervous. But then, she was no less nervous than he.

“Have you spoken to Naomi?” Her voice was strangely constricted.

“Yes, though I can scarcely believe what she said.”

She looked up at him. “What did she say?”

He was afraid of saying too much, so he said cautiously, “She said . . . you wanted to speak with me.” This time there was no doubting the color in her cheeks. “I apologize. I’ve embarrassed you. I think she misunderstood, or I did, or —”

She interrupted. “No. I hoped she would talk to you.”

He stared at her. “You’ve only to say what you wish, Ruth. Obed can have my portion.”

“You have land enough for many sons, Boaz.”

His heart began to pound.

Her smile was shy after saying something so bold. But she wasn’t finished. She stepped closer, looking him full in the face. “I would give you as many sons and daughters as you and God will allow.”

“Oh, my love.” Her eyes flickered in surprise and then filled with so much hope that he no longer doubted her feelings. He gave a soft laugh. “When I heard people talking about you, when you and Naomi first arrived, I knew you were something very special. And then when you came to my field . . . it gave me pause that a man of my age could be so stirred.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him, crying. Perplexed, he held her closer. She was trembling and weeping. What had he said to bring on such grief? Breathing in the incense of her hair, he thought of the night she had come to him on the threshing floor. She had worn perfume then, but he preferred her as she was now. She smelled like springtime, and she made him feel young again. “What can I say or do to make you happy?”

“I
am
happy!”

“But you’re weeping.”

“Yes, I am, aren’t I?” She looked up and laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ve never been more happy! I want to laugh and sing and dance, all because you love me.”

He laughed with her, relishing the outpouring of her feelings. “I would have spoken sooner if you had given me some small hint of your own feelings.”

“How could I, when I was convinced you would be embarrassed?”

“So. Are you going to tell me now that you fell in love with me at first sight?”

“No, but I admired you from the first day when you were so kind to me.”

“Like a father,” he said dryly.

“Only because you persisted in calling me ‘daughter.’”

He cupped her cheek tenderly. “I had to remind myself daily that I was too old for you, and that it was far from appropriate for me to feel the way I did.”