The Gate of Heaven (12 page)

Jacob moved forward to greet her. The loneliness of the desert made his heart swell at the sight of one who was of his own blood. The girl turned to meet him too, her eyes wide with anticipation. He saw then that they were of the darkest possible blue, and her complexion was impossibly smooth. “Greetings, my kinswoman.”

Rachel blinked with surprise. “You are a kinsman?” she asked breathlessly. Her voice was almost childlike, as was her attitude. Jacob suddenly remembered how the shepherds had spoken of her youth and how they expected she would blossom into a beautiful woman before long. He came forward and stood before her. “Yes, we are kin,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek as one would kiss a small child. He smelled a faint scent like a wild flower, and the weariness of his trip swept over him. “I am Rebekah's son,” he said. “My name is Jacob.”

Rachel broke into a bright smile, and her eyes danced. The dimple reappeared in her cheek, and she said, “Why, I've heard you spoken of, sir, many times. If you'll tend my sheep, I will go fetch my father.”

“Yes, I will. Is it far?”

“No. Not far at all. You look tired and weary. Rest and I will run as fast as I can.”

Jacob nodded, and as the girl whirled and ran away, he sat down, overcome with fatigue. “At least I found the place I was looking for,” he muttered.

“Father, there's a man who says he's Rebekah's son. He's down at the spring.”

Laban looked up, his eyes growing suspicious. “What do you say, girl? Rebekah's son?”

“His name, he says, is Jacob. He's all worn out and tired, and he's dirty, but he says he's a kinsman.”

“He could be anybody,” Laban muttered. He was sitting back leaning against a tent pole with a wineskin in his hand. He lifted it, squirted a stream into his mouth, and swallowed. He was a scrawny man, and his robe was filthy. He got to his feet. “I'll go see this fellow,” he grumbled.

“Be sure he's who he says.”

Laban turned to look at the woman who had spoken. She was tall with strange light-colored eyes and reddish brown hair. He had taken her from a desert tribe as a wife. “I guess I'll know my own kinsman, Ziva.”

“You're so drunk you wouldn't know a horse if you saw one,” Ziva snorted. “I'd better go with you.”

“No, you stay here. I can handle this.”

Laban staggered out of the tent with Rachel by his side. She skipped along, running ahead and coming back to the old man, who clumped along with his eyes to the ground. He had a seamed, sour-looking face with eyes too close together that squinted constantly with suspicion.

When they reached the spring, Laban watched cautiously as the young man, who was sitting down, stood to his feet.
Not much to look at,
he thought.
Looks like a wastrel. Well, he needn't think I'll feed him!
He kept these thoughts to himself, for he still had some idea in the back of his mind that Rebekah, or her family, might somehow be of use to him. He had heard reports for years about Isaac's wealth, and more than once he had been tempted to go on a journey to make some profit out of them. “Greetings, sir. You've come far, I see.”

“My name is Jacob. You are my uncle Laban, I think.”

“If your mother is named Rebekah, then she is indeed my sister. I'm surprised to see you in such condition.”

“It was a harder trip than I imagined.” Jacob's knees were shaking.

“Father, take him home. He's bound to be starved.”

“Well…I suppose we must. Welcome, nephew.”

The greeting was given grudgingly, Jacob noticed, but he was too weary to argue. The three made their journey back to the camp, and by the time they arrived, Jacob was trembling all over. He was aware that two tall women had come out. One was old and the other young, but they were obviously related. They both had strange hazel-colored eyes, oddly shaped, and the younger woman had a direct stare about her that discomfited him.

“This is my wife, Ziva, and this is her daughter, Leah.”

Jacob bowed low. “I am sorry to have come in such poor shape. The trip was much harder than I thought it would be.”

Leah came forward at once. She was as tall as Jacob, and her unusual eyes were round and staring, with such pale eyelashes they appeared almost snakelike. But there was a sensuous beauty to her form, and Jacob, even as tired as he was, found himself interested in her.

“Come, sir, I will provide you water so that you may wash while we prepare the evening meal.”

Jacob smiled. “Thank you, Leah. You're very kind.”

Laban suddenly laughed. “That's the first time you've ever been called kind, isn't it, daughter?”

Leah shot a venomous glance at her father, and he immediately shut his mouth and dropped his head, unable to meet her fierce glance. “Come along,” Leah said. She led Jacob away to one of the tents, provided a bronze basin, and then brought a vase full of water. She poured it into the basin, and when he thanked her, she smiled.

Even though Jacob had found her eyes extraordinary, her lips now caught his attention. They were as full and sensuous as any lips he had ever seen on a woman.

“And you are very welcome,” she said with a gleam in her eye that acknowledged his attraction to her. “Wash now and rest yourself. I will come when the food is ready.” She reached out and touched his cheek in a familiar gesture. “You are tired and weary now, but after you rest, we will want to hear about your journey.” She smiled then and left the room.

Jacob's cheek felt as if it were burning where she had touched him. He stared after her and then shook his head. “Never saw anyone like her!” he muttered as he began to wash. He had kept one clean robe in his pack, and after washing as well as he could, he put on the robe and gave in to his weariness. He lay down on the mat and was asleep at once.

He came out of his sleep with a start, for he found Leah kneeling over him touching his chest. In confusion he put his hand out as if to push her away and found himself shoving against the fullness of her figure. She did not protest but laughed. “Now, sir, you mustn't take liberties even with a kinswoman.”

“I'm sorry,” Jacob muttered, embarrassed. He got to his feet and saw that she had put on another dress of some rather sheer material that outlined her figure plainly.

She was watching him, and Jacob knew she was aware of his feelings. It clearly did not displease her, however, and she said with an inviting smile, “Come. The meal is ready.”

Leah led him from the tent across a wide open space, around which were circled several tents. The children stopped their play long enough to stare at the stranger. Leah said, “This way,” and led him inside the largest of the tents.

Laban and his wife were already seated, and Rachel was bringing food in and putting it down. “Hello,” she said. “You look much better.”

“I feel better, Rachel. I hope I look a little better. Thank you.”

“Sit down,” Laban said, motioning to a place.

Two women began serving the food. They were introduced briefly with a grunt as Bilhah and Zilpah. Bilhah was younger than Rachel and plump and short. She was a mere child, shy and backward. Zilpah, the older of the two, was tall and lean and in her midtwenties. She gave Jacob a careful look as she set a large platter of food down by him.

Jacob was ravenous, and the food, though plain, tasted as wonderful as any he had ever eaten. There was freshly baked bread, olives, and bowls of thick porridge prepared with sesame oil. There was also plenty of goat's milk and red wine to satisfy his thirst. As Jacob ate and drank, he noticed that his uncle Laban seemed cowed by his wife. Ziva was indeed an imposing woman. It was almost impossible to guess her age, but as the shepherds had told him, she had come from a desert tribe, and even in her older years, some of that wildness still clung to her.

Of the two daughters, Rachel spoke the most. She babbled on almost constantly, firing questions at Jacob until finally Leah said, “Rachel, hush, let the man eat. Can't you see he's starved?”

“Oh, I'm sorry! I do talk too much.”

“No, you don't, Rachel,” Jacob assured her. “But this food is so good! Just let me have my fill, and I'll answer any question you'd like.”

The mealtime was pleasant and polite, but it was obvious that Laban was suspicious of him.
He's afraid I've come to live off of him. I suppose I don't look like much of a prize,
Jacob thought.

When the meal was over, Leah said, “Why don't you rest, Jacob, while Rachel and I clean up.”

“Thank you. I'm afraid I still feel pretty tired, even after the sleep I had earlier,” Jacob admitted. “Rachel,” he said, looking at the girl, “perhaps we can talk again later and you can ask me any question you want to.”

“Oh, that will be fine, Jacob,” Rachel said. “I'll think up some more while I'm helping my sister.”

Jacob laughed, got up, and bowed to his hosts. “Thank you, sir, and to you, Ziva, for your hospitality.”

He returned to his own tent and lay down again. With a stomach full of warm food and wine, he went to sleep instantly.

“I think he's handsome, don't you, Leah?”

Leah was cleaning the dishes and turned to give her younger sister a smile. “Yes, I think so.”

The two girls were very different, but they had different mothers. Ziva had imparted to her daughter her own height and sensuous qualities, as well as the strange-colored eyes and reddish hair. Rachel was barely out of childhood, and had an air of innocence about her.

Rachel's mother had been named Lewanna—which meant “the moon.” She had been a beautiful woman. Laban had paid a great price for her, and if he loved anyone, it had been this wife. She had died giving birth to Rachel, and the child had grown up with only whatever affection she could get from Ziva and from her sister, Leah. Actually they were rather fond of the girl, but she still led a lonely life.

“I don't think he's married,” Rachel said. “He didn't say anything about a wife.”

Leah turned her hazel eyes on the girl and laughed. “You're starting to think about a husband already? And here you've only been a woman for less than three months.”

Rachel's fair skin reddened with a blush. “I have a right to think about a husband now, even if I am young! What about you? He'd be a good husband for you…if it weren't for Mehor.”

“Well, I don't know about this man either. I don't know if he could satisfy a woman.”

Rachel stared at her, not able to grasp her meaning, and then she saw the glint in Leah's eyes. “Oh,” she said, “I hadn't thought of that.”

“Well, you'd better start thinking of it. You'll be sleeping with some man for the rest of your life. Better make sure that he will be a good lover.”

“What do you mean? I don't understand.”

Leah laughed and put her arm around the girl, looking down at her. “You're young yet. You've got plenty of time to think of such things.”