Christina Rich - The Guardian's Promise

“I know, Ima, but why can’t I find one like Abba?”

Laughing, her mother wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Things were not always easy between me and your father. I dreamed of living in the palace and attending the king’s daughters. I did not wish to marry.”

“What happened?”

“King Jehoshaphat sent my father to Hebron to teach God’s laws. My father continued to visit over the years. When I came of age to marry, he betrothed me to a man I had never met. A year later we were married.

“The first time I set eyes on your father was when he came to claim me as his bride.”

Mira laid her hand on her mother’s thigh. “I always thought you loved Abba.”

“Oh, I do, child, but not at first. At first I was angry. He was gentle and kind.” Her mother smiled as if remembering. “Patient. I was prideful, childish. Scared.”

“It remains, Ima. I do not wish to marry Esha. I do not wish to speak ill of him either, but even Ari, as angry as he makes me, would be better than a drunkard.”

Rising from her seat, her mother laughed again. “In this, child, I am in agreement. Ari is better suited to your spirit and he is handsome, too, yes?”

Heat flooded Mira’s cheeks. “Ima!”

Her mother winked. “He reminds me of your father when he was younger. You could do worse.”

Mira sighed. “He’s my father’s servant.”

“He will soon be free.”

Free to leave. “He’ll be free to be the man he once was, Ima.”

“Just remember, a contract does not create moral character. Ari is a faithful servant. He has a servant’s heart and that cannot be a disguise.”

Could it not? Had she not seen glimpses of a different man? One who was not so humble and subservient?

Chapter Five

“Ariel, it is with joy I am to see you.” Caleb lay on his mat with his head propped on a bedroll. A wet cloth rested against his brow. Red patches blotted his cheeks and down his neck.

“I see our walk caused you difficulties, adon.”

“Bah, I am old, nothing more.” He rose onto his elbows. The cloth slid to the ground. Ari rushed forward. He picked up the soiled linen and tossed it into a basket outside the doorposts. “My thanks. Now, come, sit beside me. We have matters to discuss.”

Ari slid his fingers through is hair before taking a seat beside Caleb. “If this is about Hebron, I do not think your health will sustain the trip.”

A spastic cough erupted from Caleb.

Ari patted him on the back, before offering him a drink of water. “Perhaps, you should lie back down.”

Caleb shook his head. “No. What I have to say is important. Each day the Lord gives me is a blessing, but I would see matters settled before I die.”

His master pulled a rolled parchment from the side of his mat and handed it to him. Ari did not know whose hands shook more, his or Caleb’s.

The twine fell to the ground as Ari loosened the knot. Caleb’s hand rested on his forearm before Ari could unroll the letter. “Wait. Hear my heart.”

An erratic thump beat against the wall of his chest. If he had not already been sitting, he would have collapsed. Whatever Caleb had to tell him would not be easy to accept. Worse, by the knot in his gut, it would be more difficult to reject.

“I have no brothers. Leah a brother who is bound by other duties. I have no sons other than Nathan who will soon take Rubiel as his wife, and although well suited for her, even if he could leave his father’s house, I do not trust him to have Mira’s best interest.” He sucked in a breath.

Ari rested his elbows on his knees, his fingers tented, the parchment resting between his hands. “Caleb—”

“Do not deny me this request, Ariel. It has not gone beyond my notice how you care for my daughter. You are kind and generous with your patience where she is concerned. I know all too well my child can be strong minded.”

Caleb’s view of his daughter must have been colored with a father’s love. She was stubborn and prideful.

“She’s much like her mother was when we first married in that regard. You have not allowed her to scare you. You are not wary of her disfigurement.”

A thick lump formed in his throat. “Caleb, I must—”

“I realize what I’m about to ask is unusual. My circumstances are unusual. Take time to consider my offer before you deny me.” Caleb began to cough, but it subsided before it began. “There is a betrothal contract.” He held up his hand. “I do not expect to bind you if that is not your heart. I only wish for her to be watched after. I know you would do so and I’ve given you the legal means. If you find you cannot marry her...I ask you see that she marries a man of her choosing, one who would care for her. I would not see her married to Esha.”

Neither would he, but it was not his duty. He glanced at the parchment nestled in his hands.

“There’s a marriage contract, as well. If you are in agreement, all you need do is sign your name. There is no need for a bride price.”

Ari rose from his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You must understand, adon, I am not free—”

“I concede you may have family, but if that is true why have you not contacted them?”

He had, if only to tell them he was safe. That the child was safe. Before he could respond Caleb continued.

“I have released you, Ariel.” Caleb struggled to rise from his mat. He shuffled toward Ari and laid his hand on his arm. “You are free. Free to leave, free to stay. I only ask you seek God’s face before you answer.”

Caleb’s words cut him at the knees and cut him hard. He was unworthy of the man’s trust. Unworthy of his daughter. A light tap on the doorjamb kept Ari’s lips pressed firm.

“Abba.” Mira pushed aside the covering and entered. Her presence a double-edged sword. “Food is ready.”

If he were free, he would not hesitate to sign the contracts if she were agreeable. The truth, however, was more like iron shackles than being a bond servant to Caleb had ever been. He wasn’t free. Wasn’t free to leave. He wasn’t free to stay if he chose. He was not free to marry the woman standing before him. He was bound to a child for the good of Judah, bound to God’s will.

* * *

His gaze pressed against her, palpable, boring right through to the center of her being. She did not even have to look. He’d been watching her from the moment he’d left her father’s chamber. This time it gave her pause. Had she juices from the roasted meat dripping down her chin?

She swiped at her mouth with the back of her good hand and then as covertly as possible looked for the telltale signs of grease.

The courtyard filled heavily with the scent of roasted meat. The fire snapped and crackled as Rubiel turned the hunk of lamb over the fire. Why did he stare so broodingly?

“You have decided not to go, Abba?” Joash asked from his seat next to Ari.

The juice Mira poured into her father’s goblet overflowed onto the table.

“Mira, pay attention, child,” her mother said, tossing her a drying cloth.

“Forgive me, Ima.” The deep red liquid seeped through the linen, spreading in all directions. Images of bloodied bandages as she’d fought to keep Ari alive sprouted into her mind. She’d fancied herself in love with him then, before he woke and declared her maimed. Before he had treated her as if she could not spread grain onto the fields, tend the sheep or pick the harvest. Of course, he had been plagued with madness induced from the pain of his wounds and the herbs she and her mother had treated him with. He had spoken of many things that did not make sense as he tried to push himself up from the mat. The only word she truly understood was maimed.

Her anger at his brash observation had led to resentment, but today something had changed. Today, she had needed his help, whether she liked it or not. Today, her heart filled with gratitude at his presence.