“I understand,” she told him. “ I try to think what it would be like for me, but my mind boggles at such a thought. Just know that you are welcome here for as long as you need to stay.”
Barak let go of her and moved to the open window. A gentle breeze fluttered the drapes, the warm sun lighting his face as he moved into it.
For a long time he stood staring at the landscape from the balcony. His brows wrinkled in concentration as fragments from his past assaulted his mind. He turned back to Anna.
“I’m in Samaria,” he said and frowned.
Anna swallowed the lump in her throat. More of his memory was coming back to him, and she grew afraid of what this would mean for her now.
His eyes raked over her as the frown increased. “There’s something about you. . .”
He didn’t finish. His stare grew harder. Anna decided it was time to leave.
“I think you’d better rest for now. Supper will be served before long. I’ll see you then.”
For all his injuries, he beat her to the door. He held the door closed with one hand while reaching for her with the other. When his eyes connected with hers, there was the same awareness there that she had seen before, and Anna knew that his memory had returned with a vengeance.
“Anna.”
She lifted her eyes to his fearfully, expecting to see the anger he so often exhibited. Instead, there was a wealth of tenderness in his look.
Anna sucked in a breath, hardly daring to breathe. “Barak. You remember.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes roving her face. “I was coming back to you. Coming back to make sure you got to your father safely.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him, tears in her voice, and he knew to what she was referring.
“I meant what I said. I can’t love you.”
But they both knew it was already too late.
He kissed her gently on her lips before setting her away from him. Turning, he went back and lay on the bed. “Go away, Anna. Go away and don’t come back.”
She knew that if she didn’t, Barak would find some way to leave. He would fight their love every step of the way, and his zeal was as powerful as Micah’s. Her shoulders slumped wearily, knowing she hadn’t the strength to defy him. Besides, she didn’t want to make it any harder on him than it already was.
She closed the door softly behind her.
Barak stared at the closed door, gritting his teeth in frustration. He knew he was not well enough to travel, but he knew he couldn’t stay here. Temptation was only a short distance away.
Yet, if he tried to leave, he knew he would be dead before he got anywhere close to home. Probably, he would be found by the cutthroats who lived among the hills and they would finish the job those infernal Samaritans had begun.
How could he possibly be falling in love with a Samaritan, and a Christian one at that? Even the thought should make him ill, but somehow it didn’t.
Jehovah, he prayed, protect me from the evil one. Save me from my sin. Help me to stay faithful to You.
A hazy memory flitted in and out of his mind like a sibilant whisper. What was it? He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. Something about a virgin birth and a woman named Elizabeth. Something about the “Elijah” to come.
Scriptures. Scriptures he hadn’t thought about in years. Was it possible the Messiah had really come? He shook his head angrily. Anna’s Messiah died on a cross. Could the Messiah really be killed in such a way? Wasn’t He going to lead His people out of bondage?
He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
The prophecy from Isaiah hit him with stunning clarity. The Messiah would be rejected, not respected.
He shoved a hand hard against his forehead, trying to remember more. He had to remember more!
His head began to pound with the fury of a thousand storms. Moaning, he was unaware of Anna returning to the room.
He ground his teeth together as the pain in his head increased.
A cup was held to his lips and he drank thirstily. Lying back against the pillows, he sighed when a cold cloth was pressed against his forehead.
Drowsy eyes lifted upward to meet worried hazel ones. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered, and for Anna, it was enough.
Ten
For three days Barak suffered excruciating headaches that left him weak and confused. On the fourth day he awoke clear-eyed and free from pain.
Anna hovered close by, unsure of her reception, but adamant in her refusal to leave his side.
Barak reached out a hand and gently stroked his fingers down her forearm. She swallowed hard at his tender look.
“How long have I been ill?”
“Three days,” she told him, removing herself to a safe distance. She took the water basin she had used to frequently bathe his forehead and dumped the water from the balcony. Her insides were quivering with relief that the Lord had spared his life. For a time, even Sibbecai had thought that Barak might find his way to Sheol.
Barak noticed the dark circles under Anna’s eyes. The pallor of her skin spoke of fatigue.
“You stayed with me the whole time?”
Anna met his eyes briefly, but turned quickly away. “Yes.”
He reached out a hand to her, his voice compelling when he commanded softly, “Anna, come here.”
Her stomach turned into a leaden weight. Reluctantly, she moved across the room to his side.
Barak took her trembling hand into his own, tugging until she dropped to his side. There was remorse in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he told her.
Anna’s chin lifted a notch. “For what?”
“For telling you to go away and never come back. I was foolish.”
“You were right,” she answered heavily. “It would be best.”
“For whom?”
There was a subtle change in his eyes as they studied her. Anna once more dropped her chin. “For both of us, I think.”
He shook his head. “There is a reason Jehovah brought us together.”
He lifted himself slowly to a sitting position, putting his head in his hands as the room began to reel giddily around him. Nausea clenched his stomach, and he swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising into his throat.
“You need to rest,” Anna told him in alarm. “You are still not well.”
“Well enough,” he disagreed. “I need to make arrangements to leave. My mother will be frantic with worry.”
“I sent her a message, as you suggested.”
He glanced up quickly. “What did you say in it?”
“I told her that you had been attacked and that we were tending to you. I also told her that your beating was so severe it might be some time before you could return home.”
His eyes smoldered with a strange light. “I can’t stay.”
Lips pressed tightly together, she got to her feet and went to a stool, where she lifted some garments and held them up for his inspection.
“These are for you. My father hopes that you will accept them with his thanks for your kindness in bringing me safely to Sychar.”
Barak fought with his desire to refuse. For one thing, he didn’t wish to hurt Anna any further, and for another, he knew that his other clothes had been rent beyond repair.
“Thank him for me.”
Relieved, Anna smiled slightly. “I will do so.”
They continued to stare at each other until Barak’s mouth tipped into a lopsided grin. “If you will allow me, I will change. I must be on my way.”
Anna’s heart sank at the declaration, but lifted slightly when she told him, “It is the Sabbath.”
Barak frowned in annoyance. He turned his eyes away from her. “Then I will leave on the morrow.”
“We just received a message today from your mother. She says that she is sending Adonijah to bring you home.”
Barak’s head whipped back to
her, a slow smile lighting his face. “That is good. I will wait for him, then.”
Anna moved to the door and Barak was once again struck by her grace. She moved like a nimble gazelle.
Her eyes met his briefly before she turned and exited the room, and Barak knew with certainty that she would not return.
❧
“No, Anna.”
Anna stared at her overprotective parent in frustration. “But, Father, I wish to worship with other believers.”
He was already shaking his head. “You are not to leave this villa.”
She sighed. “Even if Emnon or Cleopas comes with me?”
“No, and that’s final.”
Anna dropped her bread to her plate, her hunger suddenly vanishing. For a long time now she had been looking forward to spending tomorrow, the Lord’s Day, with others who followed the Way.
Although King Herod Agrippa had instituted a heavy persecution among the Jewish Christians, the numbers in Samaria were steadily growing. It was only one more thing to establish enmity among the people of the region.
Tirinus continued eating as though nothing were out of the ordinary. He was fully aware of his daughter’s disapproval, and though he had given concessions in the past, he was not willing to do so now.
He felt her regard and grew uncomfortable under that look. He knew if he lifted his eyes to hers he would find nothing but censure there, and he had always been unable to stand firm under those speaking eyes.
“Why not ask the worshipers to come here,” he finally acquiesced and heard her suck in her breath.
“You would allow this?”
He nodded, still without looking up. Anna squealed, throwing herself at her father and hugging him tightly.
“Thank you, Father.”
Tirinus smiled to himself, shaking his head at his own weakness where his daughter was concerned. But at least the food no longer tasted like dust in his mouth.
❧
Barak found Anna in the walled garden behind the villa. The ever-faithful Emnon wasn’t far away. The two men eyed each other warily before the Philistine nodded his head ever so slightly and turned away.
Anna turned from where she knelt, lifting her face to his in surprise. Barak dropped down beside her, noticing the basket of flowers as he did so. One brow lifted in query.
“I wished some flowers for the triclinium,” she told him, and he wondered at the color that suddenly flooded her cheeks.
Barak’s eyes fixed on the Philistine. “He guards you well. I am much relieved.”
“Why?”
The soft whisper sent the blood quick-stepping through his veins. He turned and caught her look. “You know why.”
Anna looked away. It was the closest he would come to admitting any feelings for her, and she knew it.
Barak lifted his face to the sun, reveling in its warmth. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “A beautiful Lord’s Day.”
“Lord’s Day? Every day is the Lord’s Day.”
She smiled, continuing to cut flowers. “For Christians, it is the day we remember our Lord having risen from the dead. A time to worship.”
She refused to look at him, but she sensed his displeasure. He said nothing.
“You are welcome to join us.”
His voice was biting. “I think not.”
She turned to him then, her eyes pleading. “I am not suggesting that you participate, but wouldn’t you like to see for yourself if this religion is as vile as you believe it to be?”
“I have heard of the cannibalism among Christians, and the practice of brothers and sisters meeting together in incestuous and sinful ways.”
Anna’s eyes grew cold with fury. “That is a lie! We do no such thing!”
Barak couldn’t believe it of this woman, either, but he was afraid to find out the truth. What if the stories were true? Would it cure him of this obsession he seemed to have with this one Samaritan? Or would it perhaps draw him further into their mystical, sordid practices? He needed to find out.
“Perhaps I will attend this meeting with you.”
Mouth dropping open in surprise, Anna could only stare at him. What was on his mind now? Would he perhaps do as the apostle Paul had once done by reporting the Jewish believers to the authorities in Jerusalem? She grew fearful, and yet she knew that the Lord could use this opportunity to reach Barak as Anna never could.
Getting to her feet, she passed him to return to the villa. “You are welcome. We will meet in the triclinium for supper.”
Barak watched her go, his insides heaving. Tonight, he would know, one way or another.
❧
Barak’s eyes grew wide with surprise at the number of people gathered for the evening meal. There were wealthy, as well as poor. Elderly, as well as children. His look encompassed the entire crowd, coming to rest at last on Anna herself.
She was sitting close to a man, their heads near together as they discussed something. The man was not young, but neither was he old. He was probably around forty years of age and quite handsome. Anna’s eyes were focused intently on the man as he continued to expound some point. Barak felt his insides twist with jealousy.
As though she could feel his look, she turned and caught sight of him hovering near the doorway. She said something to the man at her side and rose, quickly making her way to Barak’s side.
“Welcome,” she told him softly.
One brow quirked upward, but he refrained from comment.
“Come with me.” Anna turned to make her way back to her seat, and Barak followed her, aware of several pairs of eyes on him. He met each look with a cold glare.
Anna introduced Barak to the man she had been speaking with. Dark eyes studied dark eyes as each man sized the other up. A slow smile began in the depths of Naboth’s eyes and continued until it reached his lips.
“Welcome, Barak,” he said, and Barak felt himself unsettled by the man’s friendliness.
Naboth’s eyes went back to Anna and she gave him an imperceptible nod. The man rose to his feet in one graceful movement, and all eyes suddenly riveted to him and the room grew quiet with a hushed expectation.
“Brothers and sisters,” he began, and Barak’s attention was arrested by the title. His eyes went to Anna’s and she lifted her chin a notch. He could read the message in her eyes. See, we are not involved in incest.
As the man continued to speak, Barak found his mind caught by the strength of the man’s message, his magnetic personality.
“We have come together to remember the Resurrection of our Lord, Jesus,” he told them. “It was on this day several years ago that Jesus Christ overcame death and rose not only in spirit, but in body as well. Because of that victory, we all have the assurance of eternal life if we continue in the Lord’s ways and live our lives as He commanded us to live.”
He paused and Barak felt himself holding his breath. This man spoke of a resurrection of the dead, and being a Pharisee, Barak had no problem in hearing the words of this message. The problem came with espousing this Jesus as Lord.
“Before we continue,” Naboth went on, “let us give thanks to the Lord and ask His favor on this assembly.”
As Naboth’s voice rose in supplication, Barak felt a shiver of apprehension. Was he indeed committing an act of blasphemy?
Naboth ended his prayer with the words, “in Jesus’ name,” and suddenly the room grew loud with conversation. Barak glanced at Anna and found her watching him. Her eyes were, for once, unreadable.
When Naboth lifted his hands for attention, the room stilled again.
“Abner has some Scripture he wishes to share with us.”
A young man rose to his feet, and although his countenance was shy, his eyes were like fire.
“I have here a translation of the Hebrew Scriptures from the prophet Isaiah. Let me read.
“ ‘It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have
kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth.
“ ‘This is what the Lord says—the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel—to him who was despised and abhorred by the nation, to the servant of rulers: Kings will see you and rise up, princes will see and bow down, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.’ ”
There was utter silence as the words seemed to echo with power throughout the room. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a man’s voice.
“Amen!”
Other voices followed.
“Praise God!”
“Thank you, Lord, for your salvation to all.”
The noise grew until the timber of it threatened to rattle the walls. Naboth again rose to his feet and the room grew quiet once more.
“Thank you, Abner,” he told the young man, and Abner’s cheeks flushed under his look. “Let us discuss this Scripture. What do you think it means?”
One man rose to his feet. “It tells us that salvation will be given to all nations.”
Another man rose. “Even kings and princes will bow before the Lord.”
Barak listened as several others offered their opinion on the Scriptures just read. For a long time voices intermingled as people deliberated it among themselves. He turned to Anna.
“And what do you think?”
Before she could comment, Naboth once again took to the floor. “Brethren, before we partake of the Lord’s Supper, are there any who need to confess their sins so that they might not receive it in an unworthy manner?”
For several seconds there was no sound or movement in the room. Then slowly, one man rose to his feet. He glanced briefly at another man across the room before turning to Naboth.
“I have sinned against my brother, Damon. He. . .I. . .I told the council that he was responsible for the death of one of my sheep. After hearing my story, they agreed and made him pay for the sheep. But then, I found that it was not Damon’s fault, but my oldest son who had left the sheep gate open.” He stopped, unable to go on. He bowed his head. “I wish to ask forgiveness and make restitution.”
My Enemy, My Love (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 12
