The Gate of Heaven (17 page)

Leah stood as still as a statue. “Yes,” she whispered, “I can certainly please him.”

“We will do it, then. Afterward, no matter what Jacob says, you will be his wife. He can't change that.”

“What about Rachel?”

“She could have had a dozen men in the past seven years. You know how they've come swarming around her.”

“Yes,” Leah said bitterly, a glitter in her eyes. “I know exactly how that is.”

“Come. We will do it together, daughter. You will have your man.”

Suddenly Leah laughed. The sound was hard and metallic. “Yes, I will have a husband, and I will make him love me!”

Jacob found Rachel outside her tent, and he pulled her around to the back, out of sight of the celebrating wedding crowd. “This is the last time I'll see you before we're married,” he said, embracing her. “I wanted to tell you one more time how I adore you, Rachel.”

“Do you, Jacob?” She put her arms around Jacob's neck and kissed him. She was delighted when he held her so tightly she could hardly breathe.

Jacob said hoarsely, “You're the only woman for me, Rachel. I could never love another.”

“Go now before they see us. In a few hours you can have all of me that you want.” Rachel suddenly giggled. “Does that please you, Jacob?”

“Yes, but I doubt if I could ever have all of you that I want.”

Rachel kissed him again, shoved him away, and then ducked into her tent. She was pleased he had found this opportunity to tell her one more time of his love before they were married.

The sound of singing and music filled the air as the wedding celebration reached a climax. Everyone gathered around Jacob, waiting for the coming of the bride. Jacob's eyes were slightly unfocused, for he had accepted all the flagons of wine that had been offered him, including several from Ziva. He had been surprised at this, for the old woman had been bitter toward him for years. She had wanted him to marry Leah and had never been pleasant. But on this day she had smiled at him while handing him a large cup of wine, saying, “May the gods bless you and your bride!”

He had drunk it down, then when she poured him another, had asked, “You're not angry with me, Ziva?”

She had merely laughed, but there had been a strange and troubling glow in her hazel eyes.

Now the wine was catching up to Jacob, and he knew he was on his way to being totally drunk.
No way for a bridegroom to act,
he thought, but then he heard shouting and looked up to see that the bride had come from her tent. Hands grasped him and pulled him toward the center of the crowd, and voices were whispering suggestions into his ear for the wedding night.

He stood across from his bride, who was clad in a colorful gown with a heavily embroidered veil completely covering her face. His head was spinning now, and he had to make an effort to remain upright.

The ceremony was brief, and it included the bride circling the groom three times in one direction and then three times in the opposite direction. Jacob tried to watch her but became dizzy as he swiveled his head. He fell backward but was caught by the men behind him. He laughed foolishly and tried to concentrate on the rest of the ceremony.

Finally all was over, and he found himself beside his bride. He grasped her arms, and while a song went up, he staggered toward the tent. He managed to make it inside, but when he turned to his wife, he found his lips were numb—so numb he could barely speak.

“Rachel…my…” He began to sway, and then he felt hands guiding him. The tent was dark except for one oil lamp, and he said, “Lemme see…your face!” But she simply turned and blew out the lamp. She didn't speak but began to remove his clothes. He fell back onto the bed, crying out hoarsely, “My bride…my Rachel!”

Jacob stirred from a sound sleep as the pale morning light slipped through the small opening of his tent and touched his face. As consciousness returned, his senses took over, and he heard the distant barking of a dog and the faint babble of voices in the camp. The aroma of roasting meat piqued his hunger, but an overriding aroma puzzled him as he lay in that twilight state between sleep and wakefulness. At the same time he threw his arm out and encountered something soft and yielding. Awareness came with a rush, and he drew himself up on his elbow and opened his eyes as he twisted around. By the pale light he saw a woman's back—smooth, strong, and unmistakably feminine.

Joy flooded Jacob as he thought of his wedding night. He could barely remember the wedding and berated himself for drinking too much. He remembered how Ziva had forced several cups of wine on him, which had strongly affected him and clouded his mind. Despite his hazy memories of the ceremony, he did remember very well reaching out for his bride. And as the thought of their lovemaking came to him, his face flushed. His hand lovingly ran down the silken flesh beside him, and leaning forward, he whispered, “Rachel…?”

The woman turned over, and Jacob stared—unable to believe his eyes. He drew back his hand as if he'd been burned and gasped, “Leah!”

Leah smiled slowly and lazily, her eyes half lidded. She leaned against him and put her arms around his neck. “Yes, it's me, husband. It's your bride.” She kissed him fully on the lips, and despite the confusion that held Jacob, he was still aroused by her touch.

Pulling back and pushing Leah away, Jacob gasped, “What are you doing here? Where's Rachel?”

Leah did not lose her smile. She was satiated with love, and her voice was uncharacteristically soft and silky. “I am your bride, Jacob. I love you.”

Jacob shook his head and sat straight up, trying to think. He looked around the tent hoping to find Rachel there, and then Leah sat up too and put her arms around him. When he turned to face her, still unable to speak, she said, “I've always loved you, Jacob. You're the only man I ever loved. I know you loved me once and you still do deep down.”

Jacob said, “What have you done, Leah?” Jacob's voice was angry, and his eyes glinted. He ripped her arms from around him as they clung to him and then understanding dawned. “You've done something with Rachel. You took her place in the wedding, didn't you?”

“Yes, I did, and I'm not ashamed! I'm the oldest daughter, and older daughters marry before younger ones. Besides, she can't stir you like I can.”

Jacob's world had suddenly turned upside down. He stared at her and said, “You know that I love Rachel.”

“You're a man,” she said. “You can love the woman who satisfies you, and she would never be able to.”

“That's a lie!” Jacob shouted. He started to get up, but Leah caught him and clung to him. He struggled with her, but she was a strong woman. “Let me go,” he said.

“No. I'll never let you go.”

“I won't be your husband!”

“You
are
my husband,” Leah whispered. “Don't you remember last night?”

Despite himself, Jacob remembered very well—as clearly as he had ever remembered anything—the night he had spent with this woman. True, he had been half drunk, but she had pleased him in ways he had never dreamed of.

“You are my husband, Jacob.” Leah's voice was insistent, and her strange hazel eyes seemed to swallow him. She pulled at him, saying, “You are my husband. I made you happy last night. You know I can make you happy for a lifetime.”

Jacob tried to resist, but she pressed against him and whispered, “Come, husband. Love me. I'm your wife.”

And then Jacob felt himself unable to resist. He hated himself for being so weak, but in response to her pleas he found himself reaching for her. He thought of Rachel, but only for a moment, for Leah was whispering his name, and he came to her as she fell back.

Ziva saw that Rachel was waking up. She had stayed in the tent with her all night and now during the morning, and as soon as Rachel's eyes opened, she saw her confusion. “Are you awake, Rachel?” she asked.

Rachel was wearing a simple undergarment, what she'd had on under her wedding gown. Now she looked down and cried out, “What? What…?” She could not finish, and she looked at her stepmother. “Where's my wedding dress? Where am I, Ziva?”

“I must talk to you, Rachel. Here, put your clothes on.”

Rachel slipped into her robe, trembling. “Where's Jacob?” she cried.

“Listen to me, Rachel,” Ziva said. “Something has happened, and you're going to have to learn to accept it….”

Rachel listened, stunned, not able to take it in. Her stepmother ended by saying, “So Leah is Jacob's wife.”

White-hot anger surged through Rachel. “You drugged me, didn't you? You and Leah did it!”

Ziva did not deny it. “Yes, we did.”

“You've robbed me of my husband!”

Rachel flew at her stepmother, striking out at her, but the old woman was strong and quick. She grabbed Rachel's wrist, and her voice crackled with energy. Her strange eyes, so much like her daughter's, seemed to hold Rachel. “Now, you listen to me, Rachel. It was not something I wanted to do.”

“Why did you do it, then?” Rachel cried.

“I did it for my daughter's sake. You are a lovely woman, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Men have been coming for you ever since you were fifteen years old wanting to marry you, but they haven't wanted Leah as a wife. No suitable men have sought her.”

“But Jacob loved me.”

Ziva ignored this. “You can find another husband. One richer than Jacob. But my Leah can't.”

As Ziva spoke, her eyes bright with passion, Rachel felt herself giving in. She had never been able to stand against this strong old woman, and she knew that what she was saying was true. No matter how evil the deed had been, it was done. Leah was Jacob's wife, and nothing could change that.

She collapsed on the bed and began to sob. Ziva stood over her, and the fierce intensity of her eyes softened. Her shoulders sagged, for she loved this girl in her own way. She had practically raised her after Rachel's mother had died, but Leah needed her and Rachel did not. She leaned forward to touch the girl with a show of compassion but then stopped short. She drew her hand back and said in a practical voice, “It's done, Rachel. The best thing you can do is to accept it and move on with your life.” She watched the weeping girl and shook her head slightly. Her mouth compressed as she thought,
She's a good girl, but good people get hurt in this world
. She turned and walked away, wondering if Rachel would be able to survive this blow.