In the Field of Grace (31 page)

“You
are
a precious pearl, Ruth. My little jewel. The Lord blessed me the day you came into my life. To think I almost left you in Moab. How grateful I am that you chose to come with me.

“Now, let us wait upon the Lord, for He did not bring you all the way from Moab simply to break your heart. He will give Boaz aid to further his cause. And knowing how Boaz dotes on you, he will not rest until this matter is settled this very day. I am certain of it.”

“It’s a torment to be so close to having the desire of my heart, and yet so helpless in the waiting.”

“Don’t give in to your fears. Together we’ll wait and pray. And we shall see what happens.”

Ruth tried to smile. But the turmoil in her heart almost choked her.

Boaz knew where to find Jaala. Everyone passed through the city gate at some point during the day since most of the fields as well as the threshing floors lay outside the city walls. He hoped he would not have to wait long until the man showed up, for the idea
of lingering grated upon him worse than a toothache.

He found an empty bench, shielded by a narrow overhang, near the entrance of the gate. Other businessmen and leaders of the town were slowly gathering. The gate was the judicial and administrative center of Bethlehem. No other place in town boasted enough space to accommodate large gatherings. If men wished to have witnesses to a simple transaction or to conduct more complicated matters that required a court, they came to the gate.

Boaz found himself in no mood for casual conversation with his friends and neighbors. To his relief Jaala showed up uncharacteristically early. Before he could continue walking along, Boaz hailed him.

“Come over here, my friend, and sit down.” He pointed at the empty space next to him on the bench.

The man gave Boaz a frowning inquiry before coming over. “You have made up your mind about that parcel of land I mentioned to you?”

Boaz had forgotten about the land. “We can talk about that later,” he said, wanting to dangle that possibility to keep Jaala interested. “I do have a matter of business, which we need to discuss, first. It will need witnesses, if you agree.”

The man raised bushy brows and shrugged. Boaz called ten of the elders of the town and asked them to sit near. Accustomed to such transactions, they complied with ease.

Boaz addressed Jaala. “Do you remember Naomi, Elimelech’s wife?”

“Vaguely.”

“She is widowed and has returned from Moab, where she buried both her sons. She has grown sadly destitute.”

“Elimelech was always an idiot. I am not surprised he died in a foreign land, and his sons with him. And of course he left his wife with nothing. What’s this to do with me, Boaz? I have no interest in a tale of woe.”

“No, I realize. But there is financial gain for you, if you will
hear me out. In her need, Naomi is selling the parcel of land that belonged to our brother Elimelech. I thought I should bring the matter to your attention.”

The man sniffed. “How so? What’s it to do with me?”

“I want to suggest that you buy the land. In the presence of these people here, so that we might have the witness of the elders of the people, and make it an official bargain. You are her kinsman redeemer, and if you wish, you can help her in her need. The price is more than reasonable.”

Boaz stretched his legs and leaned indolently against the wall. Everything about him suggested casual interest at best. Not by one inflection did he betray how he awaited the man’s response with a hitch in his breathing. He saw Jaala flush and knew that, like a fisherman, he had caught him in his net. Jaala was ever greedy for a good bargain, and he could sense one in the picture Boaz had painted. Cheap land, a grateful widow, and the respect of the community for having acted on behalf of Elimelech. All at little cost to himself.

Boaz pinned an encouraging smile on his mouth and lowered his lids to hide the coldness of calculation from Jaala’s scrutiny. He wanted to feed Jaala’s hungry greed. He wanted the man to burn with desire for ready land until he grew blinded to potential pitfalls. He planned to spring the steep price in such a way that Jaala would be shocked and completely put off by it. He intended to drag Jaala through a hairpin ride of emotions, up and down, and up and down again, until the man balked at the notion of being straddled with a foreign widow.

Ruth was going to belong to Boaz, and Jaala would not stand in the way.

“If you wish to redeem the land, do so. But if you do not, tell me, for at the moment no one has the right to do it except you. However, I am next in line.”

The man gave a slow smile, satisfaction leaking from every feature. “Oh, I will redeem it.”

B
oaz gave the man’s shoulders a friendly tap. “Good. Good. Did I remember to mention, on the day you purchase the land from Naomi and from Ruth the Moabite, you also acquire the dead man’s widow?”

“What? You mean I have to marry the Moabite to get the land?”

Boaz bit down on a smile. Here came the crucial moment when the man would back off. “I’m afraid so.”

“You might have mentioned it from the beginning!”

“Didn’t I?”

“Of course not.” Jaala studied Boaz for a long moment, his brows lowered, tense frown lines pleating his forehead. “Well.” He slapped a broad hand against his knee. “What’s one more wife? Fine.”

Boaz stopped breathing. This was not the response he had expected. His plan was unraveling before his eyes. “You want the Moabite?”

Jaala made a face. “If it means helping relatives. Send for her so I can have a look at her.”

Helping relatives? Jaala just wanted the land! Boaz could feel sweat break out on his brow. Once Jaala saw Ruth, noted her fragile beauty, he would want her in earnest, Boaz had not doubt. The man
would pounce to take hold of her. In her eyes, he would detect fear and lap it up like a thirsty viper. It would only make her more desirable in his perverse eyes. Perchance, if he intercepted her seeking Boaz’s help—one pleading look, a single despairing entreaty—Jaala would not give her up for the price of three cheap fields. He would want what Boaz wanted. He had to interrupt Jaala’s train of thought now. Take back control of the situation or he would lose Ruth.

“How good of you. Especially to willingly bear the burden of raising her child so that the name of Elimelech will continue,” he said, forcing himself to sound bored. “That is a necessity in order to maintain the name of Mahlon. It is his property, after all. It should be his lineage who inherits it.”

Jaala sprang to his feet, shaking the wrinkles out of his tunic. “Wait now. You mean, to have the land, not only must I marry this foreign widow but once I beget a son on her, the child does not even belong to me or my name? It belongs to Elimelech’s lineage!”

Boaz allowed himself to exhale. “That’s right.”

“And the land reverts back to them?”

“Quite so.”

Jaala swore. “That’s ridiculous! Is this some scheme of yours? Are you trying to deceive me into taking these beggars off your hands?”

Boaz widened his eyes innocently. “I? Never.”

“I cannot redeem the land at such a price because I might endanger my own estate and my own children. You expect me to pour money into land that won’t even come to them? What kind of fool do you take me for, Boaz? Redeem the land yourself. I cannot do it. No wise man would. It’s throwing money into a ditch.”

“Will you make it a binding agreement by taking off your sandal?” Boaz asked, referring to the tradition that legalized public transactions in Israel.

Jaala rolled his eyes, impatient now with the waste of his time. He removed his sandal and held it up.

Boaz rose, his heart thundering with victory. That large, misshapen, stained sandal had just changed the tide of his destiny. He
held up his arms to draw the attention of the elders. Several had already been listening and others gathered around them, curious to find out the nature of the new agreement being forged between the two men.

“You are witnesses that today I have bought from Naomi all the property of Elimelech, Chilion, and Mahlon. I have also acquired Ruth the Moabite, Mahlon’s widow, as my wife. This way, she can have a son to carry on the name of her dead husband and to inherit the family property here in his hometown. Thus his name shall not disappear from among his family or from the town records.” Boaz’s voice dropped. “Today you are witnesses.”

The elders and the rest of those gathered at the gate said, “We are witnesses.”

Boaz closed his eyes for a moment. He had done it! Ruth was his, and no one could gainsay him. She truly belonged to him now.

His business concluded, his dearest wish granted, Boaz turned to race back through the city gates. He wanted to find Ruth and share his news, knowing how desperate she must feel to hear the outcome of his meeting with Jaala. Before he could take one step toward his horse, however, a wrinkled hand clasped his shoulder. Impatience making his movements sharp, Boaz swung back to find one of the city elders grinning up at him.

“May the Lord make the woman who is coming into your home like Rachel and Leah, who together built up the house of Israel,” he said with a wide grin. “May she be fertile like the wombs that gave birth to a nation.”

The rest of the men crowded around him. One of the youngest, the son of a favored landowner, shouted, “May you prosper in Ephrathah and be famous in Bethlehem! And may the Lord give you many descendants by this young woman!”

Boaz didn’t have time to express thanks before another added his blessing. “May your family be like that of our ancestor Perez, the son of Tamar and Judah.”

Boaz started to laugh. If all these extravagant blessings were to
take hold, he would populate Israel with his seed and count distinguished leaders and wise men among his descendants. Surely the whole world would resound with his fame and good fortune. He laughed again, harder this time, not believing a single ridiculous thought. He had won Ruth. What more did he need?

Ruth cried when she heard the news. She cried like a child and threw herself into Boaz’s arms.

He lifted her chin. “You didn’t think I was going to let anybody take you away from me, did you?”

He kissed her then, finally, after waiting for what seemed like a lifetime, though it had only been a few weeks. He kissed her lingering and hard, and held her clasped against him for long moments after, settling into the feel of her willowy body against him. He could feel her heart beating furiously against his chest and kissed her again, softly this time, helpless against a desire too long denied.

They were alone in Naomi’s house, for the older woman had left them discreetly when he arrived, mumbling a forgotten promise to visit a friend.

“You took out your braids,” he said, to distract himself. Her hair had turned into a profusion of chestnut-colored waves. He ran his fingers through the soft length of them down her waist, relishing the knowledge that he now had a right to such intimacies. “I love you so dearly.”