Rachel (23 page)

Rachel helped Leah to sit up on the birthing stool and rubbed her shoulders as she bore down on the child. At last a lusty cry emerged from the boy, and Leah laughed and cried at his entrance into the world.

“A beautiful son!” Suri held up the baby, and Rachel’s heart yearned at the sight of him. Of all of Leah’s children, he looked the most like Jacob, despite the blood and fluids covering him. He had a head of dark hair just like his father and squirmed for attention.

Leah laughed and the others joined her. Rachel left her side to attend the babe, then brought him to Leah.

“A son,” Leah said, her voice soft, exhausted, and yet reverent with awe. “This time I will praise the Lord.” She closed her eyes and gave a contented sigh as the baby nursed.

“What name will you give this one?” Farah asked, stroking the child’s soft head.

Leah opened her eyes and smiled. “Judah.”

Praise.
Rachel looked on at the pair they made, relieved that her sister had survived such a difficult birth. And strangely, despite the jealousy she could not quite release, she found gratitude in her own heart for this one. Judah. The name sounded like praise, the kind only Adonai deserved. And praise Him she did.

18

Leah sat in the shade of her tent nursing Judah, watching Zilpah play with Reuben and Simeon a short distance away. Levi napped just inside the tent, close enough that Leah could see him through the tent’s open sides. She closed her eyes, grateful for the good health of the child in her arms. Birthing him had taken all of her strength, and she still had not regained it forty days later. The thought troubled her, but even more the fear that Jacob would have no more use for her if she could not bear him more children.

And yet why this great need to prove herself to him? Hadn’t she already given him four fine sons? She looked down with affection on Judah’s serene face and stroked the soft curls from his smooth brow. So contented. So guileless and free of the worries life would one day bring to him. What would this child face?
Please, Adonai, let this child be obedient to
Your ways.

She had not thought to pray such a thing with the first three sons and now realized she should entrust each of them to Yahweh’s care. But her prayers, even her praise over Judah’s birth, could not ease the desire for more children. For more of Jacob’s attention.

Female voices came to her, and she glanced up, shading her eyes against the sun’s angled glare to see who approached. But it
was only Rachel and her maid returning from a visit to Laban’s house. A visit Leah had no strength to make even yet.

“There you are,” Rachel said as they drew near.

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?” She hadn’t meant to snap but realized by Rachel’s raised brows that she had spoken harsher than she intended. “Forgive me. I am weary today.”

Rachel looked like she would offer a response but then seemed to think better of it. “Your mother sent these to you.” She placed some of Leah’s favorite pomegranates in a basket at Leah’s side. “Do you want me to take one of the children for you?” She glanced at Judah, her look telling, the longing evident in her large dark eyes.

“I can manage.” She tightened her grip on Judah ever so slightly. “Levi is napping, and Zilpah is with me.”

Rachel shrugged as though it mattered little to her, though Leah knew the truth. Rachel glanced at her maid and lifted her chin. “Come, Bilhah. I want to cut these pomegranates and fix them the way Jacob likes them.” She cast Leah a parting glance, then moved gracefully past Jacob’s tent to her own.

Leah’s stomach twisted, and she struggled against the inadequacy Rachel always managed to make her feel, the uselessness of her position in Jacob’s household. It wasn’t true. Jacob had even indicated stronger affection for her, especially since Judah’s birth, of which he seemed doubly pleased over any of the other sons. But she felt it in Rachel’s look just the same.

She watched Rachel’s retreating back and Bilhah’s slightly bulging middle evident now beneath her robe, the cause of Rachel’s recent haughty spirit. She swallowed, surprised by the sudden anger and the unexpected sting of tears. She could not possibly be jealous. She had four healthy, beautiful sons! But as she examined her heart, she knew she could not deny it. She was jealous of Rachel’s beauty and the coming child of Rachel’s maid.

It was too soon for her to conceive again anyway, she told herself yet again. And in truth, she had no strength for the task. Her body needed time to recover, and soon she must tell Jacob that he could not come to her until she had healed, something that she expected would take much longer than she hoped.

Laughter coming from Rachel’s tent set her teeth on edge. She glanced once more toward Rachel and Bilhah discussing some private sentiment they shared, keeping her out, as Rachel always did. And keeping Jacob to themselves far too often.

Anger fought its way to the surface of her heart, and she knew she could not quash the emotion. She glanced at Zilpah still sitting on the ground making pictures in the dirt with her sons. Two could play at Rachel’s game. And she was already ahead with four sons to show her worth. If Rachel could give Bilhah to Jacob, she could give him Zilpah.

Then they would see just how haughty Rachel would remain.

Jacob lifted the cup of barley beer to his lips and sipped the lukewarm, frothy brew. The fire turned to glowing embers, clustered sparks like the stars above. Rachel had left his side some time ago not feeling well, and Bilhah slept in her own tent, more tired now that the babe had grown larger within her. The voices of Leah’s children grew silent as Leah and Zilpah put them to bed. He should go to his own tent and rest, but he could not seem to gather the energy needed to rise. He took another drink instead and briefly closed his eyes.

Footsteps rustling the grasses outside the fire’s circle drew his attention. He looked up to see Leah coming toward him. He stiffened, knowing by her look that she wanted something from him. He had little left to give, but he smiled at Leah’s approach just the same, masking his impatience as he beckoned her to sit beside him.

“What do you need?” he asked, not wanting to belabor the
point. Were her cheeks paler than normal? It struck him that she had not seemed as well and strong as she normally did in quite some time. “Are you ill?” The thought troubled him.

She shook her head. “Not ill exactly.” She glanced beyond him. “That is, Judah’s birth was not easy on me, Jacob.” She looked at him then, imploring, her pale eyes filled with a sense of sadness he had never seen in her before. “I am afraid I have still not recovered. To bear more children now would likely injure my health further.”

He studied her, understanding dawning. She could not risk another pregnancy until she was strong again. Would she be strong again? Perhaps she would have no more sons than the four she now had.

“But you will recover?” Despite their beginning and the fact that he did not love her in the way he loved Rachel, he did hold some affection for her. He could not imagine his life now without her in it.

She nodded. “Surely in time. Yes.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “Until then—”

“I understand,” he said, wanting to spare her the embarrassment of stating it. He placed a hand on her knee, then reached for her hand and squeezed.

She looked up at him, tears skimming her lashes. Was she so fearful of losing her time with him? But one look into her eyes told him what he had spent countless hours trying to deny.

“I would like you to sleep with my maid Zilpah in my place, so that I may procure sons by her.” She swallowed and made a valiant effort to keep the tears at bay. She had never cried in front of him, and he was moved to pity.

“You already have four sons, Leah. You need not bear me more.” He meant the words to comfort her, but her startled look made him realize too late that she did not take the comfort he intended. “That does not mean you will live as a widow.” He released her hand and placed an arm around her shoulders
instead, pulling her head against his chest. “I will still care for you.” He spoke softly against her ear, discomfited by her tears. “It’s all right, Leah.”

He hadn’t meant to sound impatient and chided himself for not keeping his tone gentle. “That is, there is nothing to fear. You will be well and have more children in time.” Though he knew his mother had never borne another after he and his brother were born. Perhaps that was all God had intended. How was a man to know such things?

“Will you take my maid then? Please?” She sniffed and dried her tears with her sleeve. She sat up to look at him. “It is my right, Jacob.” He could not tell if the sudden glint in her eyes was her determination or the remnant of her tears.

“I do not see the need.” But still, he felt pulled between the two sisters, until he wondered how long he could survive their jealousies and competition.

“If Rachel can give you her maid, then so can I. I want this, Jacob.” She held his gaze, unrelenting, with a look that told him he would not win an argument with her.

He nodded, defeat settling over him, as though clouds had blotted out the stars, and yet they remained transfixed in the heavens, winking down on him. “When?” But he knew the answer.

“She can come to you this night. Or tomorrow.” She touched his arm. “Please do not make me wait.”

He stared at her. “Do you think me some kind of animal that you can call to come at your beckoning?” Both Leah and Rachel had treated him thus, and he had had enough. He stood abruptly, and she stood with him, alarm in her expression.

“No, of course not. Forgive me, my lord.” She took a step back and hugged herself as though chilled. She truly did not look well, and he suddenly regretted his anger.

“I’m sorry, Leah.” He pulled her close again and patted her back. “Send your maid to my tent. I will do as you ask.” He was
a victim of his love for Rachel and trapped by the yearnings of his beloved and her sister.

He released Leah and watched her walk back to her tent to call Zilpah to him. She would place Zilpah’s hand in his, as Rachel had done with Bilhah, and they would be man and wife. He glanced at the heavens, the stars too numerous to count, and wondered just how many sons he must produce to no longer be able to count them.