Journey to the Well: A Novel by Diana Wallis Taylor Read Free Book Online

did he say to you?” Hannah whispered.
    “Oh Hannah, I am so afraid.” Marah looked up, shuddering slightly as she relived the moment, and bitterly repeated the words.
    “‘Soon, little bird, you will not be able to flee from me!’”

5
     
    M arah knew Jesse would be leaving soon for the village of his father-in-law. Still, she hoped to speak with him one last time. She had waited until the middle of the day when the village was quiet. Reba slept in the heat of the day and Marah watched to be sure she was asleep. Reba snored loudly. Quietly, Marah slipped out the door and with one last fearful look about, covered her head with the dark shawl and hurried away by a path behind the village. She took a water jar to cover her steps should Reba wake and miss her.
    Her heart pounded as she moved quickly through the trees to the hillside where she could hear the soft bleating of the sheep. Was Jesse still there? Had the new shepherd taken over the flocks? Marah chewed her lower lip as she thought of Jesse’s betrothed. She knew he had already met Tirzah at his ceremony.
    “Is she . . . pretty?” Marah asked Hannah.
    “She has a kind face,” Hannah replied tactfully. “She is not too plain, and seems to have a good temperament. She will make him a good wife.”
    Now Marah climbed the hill and saw to her relief that it was indeed Jesse with the sheep. He was playing the kinnor , a small lyre, to soothe the animals. It reminded her of the small flute he had carved for her. She wondered if it was still hidden. As she watched him from behind a tree, she looked cautiously behind her to see if she had been followed or anyone at all was in sight. There was no one.
    Jesse must have been thinking of the flute also, for in a moment he put down his lyre and walked over to the rock. He stood looking down for a moment and then after glancing around, lifted the rock and took out the lambskin bundle. He was standing there, looking down at it when Marah walked up quietly and stood in front of him.
    “I also wanted to see the little flute. I’m glad it is still there.”
    “Marah!”
    She looked furtively around. Her head was covered with the dark shawl to keep from being recognized as she went to find Jesse. Now she felt like there were eyes hidden in the trees and behind the rocks. Someone would see them. After hesitating for a moment, with a show of boldness, she set down the water jar and eased back her shawl. The sun made highlights in her hair.
    Jesse almost reached out to touch it and pulled his hand back as though burned by the fire of her dark tresses.
    “Jesse. I . . . I wanted to speak to you. I knew I would find you here.”
    He looked down, a bit embarrassed by being caught looking at the flute.
    She spoke again. “I know we should probably not talk, but I heard you were leaving the village. I wanted to say goodbye.”
    “Yes, I’m leaving,” he said, his eyes still on her shining hair, “to be an apprentice to Tirzah’s father. I will be learning to be a carpenter.” He shrugged self-consciously. “Can you imagine me, a shepherd, making tables and tools?”
    Marah smiled. “You’ll be a good carpenter, Jesse. You are very good with wood. I know you will do well. I . . . ah . . . wish you good fortune in your marriage and that your wife will bear you sons.” She stumbled over the word “wife.”
    Jesse tried to return the blessing but found the words stuck in his throat. Marah realized he could not wish her well in her marriage, nor could he wish her children by Zibeon.
    “Thank you,” he answered lamely.
    Marah ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the little flute. She wanted to put it to her lips and play on the beautiful instrument that had been carved by Jesse’s gentle hands.
    But knowing it would call attention to them, she sighed and carefully wrapped it in the lambskin. Jesse placed the flute back in the hole and moved the rock over it.
    “It will be our secret,” Marah repeated as before.