Unashamed by Francine Rivers Read Free Book Online Page B

her.

    “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be back for you.”

    “I hope so.”

    He released her and took up the rope. “Are you strong enough to hold me?”

    She laughed. “I’ll have to be!” She held on with all her strength, and when she thought she’d fail, she found strength she didn’t know she had.

    When Salmon let go of the rope, she stood on her tiptoes and looked out the window. Both men stood below her. Ephraim was looking around cautiously, but Salmon grinned up at her. He raised his hand in a gesture of salutation and promise. She waved for him to go quickly.

    She smiled when she saw they took the road leading to the hill country.



three

    SALMON and Ephraim followed the road over the mountains into the hill country. It was well past dawn when they rested near a small stream. Kneeling, eyes alert, they drank and drank their fill.

    Ephraim trapped several fish in a pool and flipped them onto the bank, where Salmon had built a small fire. After cleaning them, Salmon roasted the fish on a stick. Salmon had never eaten anything but manna and found the fish a new and interesting taste to his palate. Replete, they saw a Canaanite shepherd bring his flock of goats to drink downstream. The man glanced their way, then drove his flock west.

    “He’s afraid of strangers,” Ephraim said.

    “The fear of the Lord is upon the land.” Exhaustion caught up with them. Salmon stretched out on his back, a soft blanket of grass beneath him. He could hardly keep his eyes open. “Our days in the wilderness are almost over.” He filled his lungs with the rich, fragrant scent of the land. The sky was cerulean with wisps of white. Oh, Lord, my God, You are bringing us home to a land You have prepared for us. You have laid out this gift before us. Give us the courage to take it. Closing his eyes, Salmon drifted off to sleep while listening to the stream of living water.

    And as he did so, he dreamed of a beautiful woman peering down at him from a window, her luxurious curly, black hair rippling in the wind.

    Ω       Ω       Ω

    Rahab saw Cabul and the king’s men returning late the next afternoon, while the gates were still open. Even from a distance, they looked weary and defeated. She drew back so Cabul wouldn’t see her as he passed below her window, heading for the gate.

    “Rahab!”

    She ignored him. She hoped he wouldn’t come and question her or seek solace in her company. She wanted no further discourse with the fellow. The king had summoned her yesterday, and she had repeated her lie about the spies and her directions to his men. He believed her, and that had been the end of it.

    Later that evening, Cabul knocked at her door. Hiding her fear, she opened the door long enough to find out if the king had thought the matter over further and become suspicious. When Cabul made it clear he had come for personal reasons, she told him she was ill and needed to be alone. It was no pretense. She was sick—sick of him, sick of the life she led, sick at the realization that everyone in this city would be dead soon because of their stubborn hearts and stiff-necked pride. She did not rejoice that destruction would come upon them, but she wanted to separate herself from them. She wanted to close herself in and stand at the window, waiting for her deliverance.

    But there were others to consider, others to protect.

    She let another night pass. On the third day, she ventured out of her house to shop in the marketplace, where she knew her father would be selling dried dates, raisins, and parched grains. When she approached him, he smiled briefly before returning his full attention to a patron standing at the booth. Her heart softened, for her father had never condemned her for the choices she made. Groveling for a living himself, he’d understood her reasons and never stopped loving her. Her mother had had grand hopes for her when the king had summoned her to his bed, but she’d put too much confidence in