By the Waters of Kadesh (Journey to Canaan) Page 11

  At the sound of snapping twigs he looked up. His heart rate tripled as Tirzah stepped out of the dusk toward the campfire. He sighed. There was no way he could walk out of her life.

  “Ahmose, I haven’t gotten water yet. Could you sit by my tent while I get it? The girls are asleep. I won’t be long.” Tirzah tucked her hair behind her ears and shifted the bags from one hand to the other.

  “Of course.” The boy skipped off.

  “Thank you.” She started in the other direction, toward the smaller spring.

  “Wait. You should not go alone in the dark. I’ll walk with you.” The full moon was out but still … he just wanted an excuse to be with her. He caught up with her in a few quick strides and took the skins from her. “We missed you at dinner.”

  “Naomi had a bad afternoon. I think her back teeth are coming in. She was crying and whining and slept very late. I hope she doesn’t sleep poorly tonight because of it.” She groaned as she rolled her shoulders. “The last several nights have been quite difficult, actually.”

  “You are tired.”

  “A little.”

  A little? She’s exhausted.

  They walked in silence until they reached the spring. He filled one skin and offered her a drink. The smile she gave him in return made his heart skip a beat. With no cup, he held the skin above her head and squirted the water into her mouth. She giggled softly as it dribbled down her chin, and she wiped away the errant drops.

  He knelt and filled the other skins just to give himself time to slow his heartbeat and clear his head. He stood and placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her and nearly lost his breath. The unexpected heat from the contact was dizzying.

  On the way back from the spring, he steered her away from the path toward a copse of palm trees. “Just a moment.” He pointed his chin toward the trees. “I want to talk to you before we go back.”

  Three trees grouped close together gave him the modicum of privacy he sought without compromising her. He hung the skins from a low branch and turned to face her.

  She touched his arm. “First, I need to say something.” She paused, as if groping for the right words. “I want to thank you for what you did for Benjamin—for me. It meant so very much.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that happened. But Nathaniel will not bother you again.”

  “Moses told me Nathaniel released me.” She tilted her head. “I wonder what made him do that.” She fixed him with a stare that said she knew he had something to do with it, baiting him to tell her the whole story.

  He ignored the prompt. “Yes. Since Gaddiel had already made his lack of interest clear, you are now free to find a proper husband.” Or marry me. But that’s probably not the wisest thing for you.

  She shrugged. “What did you want to talk about?”

  He pulled his thoughts back to what he had planned to say. “What if Ahmose and I sleep with the girls tonight? You can stay in Gaddiel’s tent and get a good night’s sleep for once. You’ll be close enough if they really need you.”

  A flash of gratefulness in her eyes melted into disbelief. She shook her head and looked at the ground. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “You need some sleep.”

  She continued to gaze at him, and her brow furrowed. “Why are you doing this?”

  He cupped her face and rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. “Because I care about you.”

  “But why?”

  “Because you’re beautiful. And strong.”

  She scoffed and tried to look away. “I am not beautiful.”

  Why was it so hard for this woman to believe anything good about herself? What had her husband done to her? “Yes, beautiful.”

  His gaze roamed her face. What would it feel like to let go? To take her in his arms and hold her the way he wanted, to feel her skin, to taste her lips? One time couldn’t hurt. He locked his eyes on hers. Her eyes, the color of roasted grain, the color of sweet honey. Her eyes, darkened with desire.

  Or was it only his own desire he saw reflected there? He lowered his head and brushed her lips. A tingle crept from his mouth down his neck.

  A shiver ran through him as her hands touched his bare chest. He cradled the back of her head and covered her mouth with his. His other arm enveloped her waist and drew her closer. Heat coursed through his body and his pulse galloped like a chariot horse.

  He had kissed many women in many lands. Never had a kiss affected him like this. At the victory parties there were hundreds of beautiful, young girls, and while he had always enjoyed getting to know them before sampling their pleasures, they were interchangeable. But now he was acutely aware not only of her body pressed tightly to his, but of her entire being. Her tinkling laugh, her cautious eyes, even her inexplicable insecurity. The camp was full of pretty Israelites, but he wouldn’t exchange her for a single one.

  The feel of her lips on his was heady. He could stay here all night. Better stop now before he was unable. He pulled back and studied her face, tucked a curl behind her ear. What was that in her eyes? Confusion? Regret? Fear?

  His breath hitched. He’d gone too far. Or at least too fast. He let go and stepped back. “I’m sorry … I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve offended you.”

  “No.” She shook her head and raised her hand to his cheek, took back the distance he had put between them. “Not at all. It’s just … no one …” Her cheeks colored a delightful pink.

  “What is it?”

  “No one’s ever kissed me like that.”

  He tilted his head. “But your husband …”

  “My husband never kissed me like that. My husband rarely kissed me at all.”

  That didn’t make any sense. But he’d leave it alone for now. He trailed the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. He brought his lips close to her ear. “Then your husband was a foolish man.”

  And he kissed her again.

  Tirzah awoke later than usual. She had slept through the night for the first time in months, and couldn’t believe how refreshed she felt. She stretched and sucked air deep into her body. She looked for the girls, afraid for just a moment when she did not find them, but her heart soared when she remembered the night before. She brought her fingers to her lips and allowed herself to remember the heat of Kamose’s kiss—his kisses. Jediel’s hard, rare kisses had never felt like that. Gentle yet passionate at the same time. How did he do that? She could still feel his strong arms around her, his solid chest, his heart beating under her hand. Never had she felt so safe, so wanted.

  But why? Why did he want her? A man like him could have any woman. Why would he be interested in an older one, with another man’s children, who was so plain, when he could have any number of young, beautiful girls?

  A giggle, followed by deep, masculine laughter, demanded her attention. She sat up and ran her hands through her hair. She reached for the water skin, poured a bit in her hand and washed her face. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the tent.

  With one arm Kamose held Naomi against his chest. Her tiny arms were looped around his neck and weren’t about to let go.

  He appeared perfectly at ease standing there, holding her daughter. Her stomach did a somersault and she imagined him as her husband, their father … and wanted nothing more at that moment than for him to take her in his arms again and kiss her like he did last night. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Did you sleep well? And the girls?”

  “We all slept through the night. Naomi didn’t wake at all.” He stepped closer to her.

  She ignored her heart thumping against her chest, the blood pounding in her ears, and rubbed Naomi’s back. “Not once?”

  “Not once. She curled up next to me and slept soundly.”

  “How did you do that?”

  Kamose chuckled. “I have no idea. If I knew I would tell you.” He drew his finger along her jaw. “You’re even prettier when you’ve slept.”


  His smile made it difficult to think. She should change the subject. “Where’s Keren?”

  Kamose loosened Naomi’s stranglehold. “She went with Ahmose to gather your manna before it melted. The sun’s getting higher.”

  Tirzah’s checks heated. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I’m sor—”

  His eyes twinkled as he leaned in toward her, his familiar male scent of leather and earth surrounding—and unsettling—her. “That was the purpose, remember?” He was close enough to kiss her. He wouldn’t here in the open, though she wouldn’t mind at all.

  To her relief, Ahmose appeared with the manna before she had to think of something intelligent to say.

  “We got it.” He held up her pot, beaming.

  She placed her palm on his cheek and accepted the jar from him. “Thank you, Ahmose. That was very sweet of you.”

  “Why don’t you bring it to our camp?” Kamose tilted his head toward Judah. “You can cook with Meri.” He and Naomi set off for his tent, and Ahmose scampered behind him, holding Keren’s hand.

  Tirzah had no choice but to follow.

  Meri and Bezalel sat by the fire as they neared the campsite. Meri raised her head at the noise of so many people and smiled broadly. “Tirzah!” She pretended to frown. “Kamose and Ahmose, where were you? We were a bit worried.”

  Tirzah’s eyes darted to Kamose to see what he would say.

  “We slept with the twins, so Tirzah could sleep in Gaddiel’s tent and get some decent rest.”

  Meri clasped her hands together. “What a marvelous idea! How are you feeling today, Tirzah?”

  “Much better, thank you. More rested than in months, actually.” She glanced at Kamose, then at the sand beneath her feet, then again at Meri.

  Meri narrowed her eyes at Tirzah, then Kamose. “Well, I think you men should take the children and find some dates while we make breakfast. Bezalel, Kamose—go.” She shooed them away.

  The men headed toward the spring. As soon as they were out of sight, Meri pounced on Tirzah. “He kissed you!”

  Tirzah put a hand to her chest. “What?”

  “He did, didn’t he?” The girl’s eyes danced.

  Tirzah thought quickly. She obviously couldn’t hide anything. A smile tugged at her mouth. “Maybe.”

  Meri fixed her with a gaze Tirzah assumed she used on Bezalel to get what she wanted.

  “Yes, he kissed me.”

  “I knew it! Finally.” She laughed as she sat near the fire and gestured to a space next to her.

  Tirzah nervously scanned the area as she sat.

  “Well?” Meri took the jar of manna from Tirzah and dumped it into a bowl with hers. A pot of water perched on charred sticks over the fire softly bubbled.

  “Well, what?”

  Meri huffed an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. “What do you think of him?”

  A smile slowly took over Tirzah’s face as the memory of last night returned. “He treats me like I am a princess. He loves the girls. He actually listens when I talk. He compliments me.”

  “And his kiss?” Meri arched her brows.

  “He’s a very good kisser.” She laughed. “Jediel hardly ever kissed me, and certainly never like that. He just ordered me around and hit me when I didn’t move fast enough.”

  “He hit you?” Meri’s eyes grew as big as the spoon she held.

  “Yes.” Tirzah shrugged. “So?”

  Meri aimed the spoon at Tirzah. “You never told me about that.”

  Tirzah waved a hand. “What difference would it have made? I already said I couldn’t leave him. Besides, I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Fine, tell me everything that happened.” Meri poured some hot water into the bowl full of manna and stirred it into dough while Tirzah continued.

  “I came to ask Ahmose to watch the girls. He walked me to the spring to get water. On the way back, we stopped. He offered to sleep with the girls in my tent, so I could sleep all night for once. When I pressed him to say why he wanted to do that, he said he cared about me. And when I asked him why, he said I was beautiful. Then he kissed me.”

  Meri sighed. “He is such a sweet man.”

  Tirzah smoothed her tunic. “Yes, but he is obviously blind. I’m nowhere near beautiful.”

  Meri stopped stirring and sat back, her hands on her hips. “Tirzah, you are a very beautiful woman. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Because no one, except my mother, has ever said I am pretty, let alone beautiful. If I truly were, I think someone would have mentioned it by now.”

  Meri frowned. “No one? Ever?”

  “No one.”

  “Well, I can assure you, Kamose has seen thousands of women, and I have never known him to lie. He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it. He is nothing if not honorable.” Meri handed Tirzah half the dough.

  Tirzah thought for a moment. “Maybe he was just trying to be helpful.” Did she sound as desperate as she felt?

  Meri scoffed. “Do you think he kisses everyone he helps? He’s never kissed me, and he saved my life. Twice.”

  Tirzah shaped the dough into cakes. “I know he brought you here after the escape. What was the other time?”

  “Bezalel asked him to help ransom me from the harem. Kamose found a way, since I was sold into it, which is illegal. He was going to tell Ramses the magician was sleeping with his concubines if he didn’t let me go. But he didn’t have to, because we left before he could.”

  Tirzah thought back to their escape the night the Angel of Death came. It was scary enough to leave with everyone else, with Egypt in chaos after the deaths of the firstborn. She couldn’t imagine leaving with only one other person, knowing the army and its chariots were right behind them. “That must have been very frightening.”

  “It was. We would have been killed if we were caught. I’m sure he could have escaped much more quickly without me, but he never would have left me behind. He and Bezalel were good friends by then, as much as a slave and a palace guard can be friends.” She giggled, then grew serious and pointed at Tirzah. “He’s a good man. You couldn’t do any better.”

  Tirzah contemplated Meri’s words while they finished the cakes, making sure they didn’t burn at the last moment. The children raced into camp, Bezalel and Kamose behind them. She handed out manna and dates and cups of milk, and laughter and conversation soon drowned out any chance for her to think further about what Meri had said. But there wasn’t much she could do about it anyway. She’d just have to wait and see what Kamose did next.

  Ten

  Tirzah scrubbed the last bowl with sand, wiped it clean, and stacked it with the others. It had been a long day. The girls were asleep, and she was ready to join them. The setting sun allowed the air to cool just enough to make a difference, and the night birds filled the air with their melodic songs.

  As she banked the fire, the back of her neck began to tingle. She felt someone standing behind her and turned her head.

  Nathaniel.

  She took a moment to control her tongue. “What do you want, Nathaniel?”

  Feigning shock, he put a hand to his chest. “I’ve only come to check on the welfare of my sister-in-law. There is no harm in that, is there?”

  She stood to face him. “Of course not, except you never do anything that does not hold some benefit for you. So again, what do you want?”

  He clucked his tongue. “You wound me, Tirzah.”

  “Good.”

  “You must get quite lonely here now that Gaddiel is gone, all alone, no kinsmen around, only the girls—what are their names again?” His eyes ran up and down her body.

  Too bad she didn’t have a blanket to hide under. “Naomi and Keren.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Yes, yes.” He put a finger to his chin. “Oh, but then I hear whispers that you have been keeping company with a certain man of, how shall I put it, less than pristine character.”

  She bristled. How dare he call anyone less than prist
ine when he was a worm himself? “Who I keep company with is none of your concern.”

  Nathaniel began to circle her. The smell of days-old sweat swirled about her. “Oh, but it is. Because you will never be able to marry this man, and I don’t want your reputation ruined when you eventually come back to me.”

  Her skin crawled as his light eyes followed her. Between the circling and the smell, she had to suppress a gag. “I’ve told you many times I would rather starve than marry you.”

  “Would you rather your girls starve as well?”

  She had nothing to say to that.

  Nathaniel continued. “I know you are dying to know but are too proud to ask, so I’ll tell you what I’m talking about. Your friend, we’ll call him, was an Egyptian soldier, yes?”

  “That’s no secret.”

  He stopped in front of her. “But are you aware of all that means? I have an uncle who worked in the palace before the Hebrew servants were kicked out. There were wild parties every month where soldiers and women we wouldn’t spit on would get drunk and pleasure each other.” The words slipped out as though they’d been dipped in oil. And Nathaniel obviously relished delivering every one. “Soldiers have more women than Ramses has wives. Not to mention what happened while they lived in other lands. Suffice it to say, your captain is not as perfect as you think he is.”

  The information rattled Tirzah to her core, but she wouldn’t give Nathaniel the satisfaction of knowing she even contemplated believing it. She stuck her finger in his chest. “Perfect or not, he is better than you could ever think of being. And you have no idea what he did in Egypt. Your uncle was there years ago. He didn’t know Kamose.” She blinked back hot tears. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of her conniving brother-in-law.

  Nathaniel laughed loudly. He leaned back and swept his hands out to each side. “Surely you cannot expect me to believe, or believe yourself, that your friend is the only pure soldier in all of Egyptian history!”