by Misty Moncur
And they had been freshly plucked from their vines.
“Gideon.” His name stuck in my throat. I glanced up expecting to see him, and when he did not appear, I searched the woods again. I wanted to call out to him, to bid him to show himself, but I knew Gideon, and I knew if he wanted to show himself he would be standing before me already. I didn’t know why he stayed away, but I could respect his wishes even when mine were so very different.
So instead of calling out, I knelt, took one beautiful bloom from the bark, wove the stem into my black hair, and sent the others floating downstream.
When I entered our courtyard, Mother and Darius were waiting for me.
“Where have you been? We’re going to be late for the evening meal.”
I was not late getting back. I looked over my shoulder at Dinah’s. Even if we were eating with Hemni and Dinah and their girls tonight, I still was not late for the evening meal. Our mothers were very consistent with mealtimes.
Catching my glance, Mother said, “We’re going to Kalem’s. Melia is cooking.”
If that was the case, then we did have to leave immediately.
“Alright,” I said. “Just let me put my gear away.” My gear consisted solely of weapons, something both Mother and Darius noticed.
Melia was beaming when we arrived. And then she was busily serving us food.
Mother got up to help her, but I stayed put on my stool in the yard. Somewhere, Kalem had acquired more stools for this night.
I looked around. Suddenly, this looked more like a celebration than merely another evening meal.
“What’s going on?” I whispered to Darius.
He shrugged, but Muloki overheard and gave me a wink.
I could see that Mother was agitated and obviously wished to assure Melia she had done well. So I too made sure to compliment Melia on her cooking. It was different than Mother’s, but good, and I asked her for her recipes.
I helped clean up the dishes, taking them to rinse in a small stream that ran nearby. When I arrived back at Kalem’s, I saw that Micah and Cana had arrived. Cana sat near Darius, while Micah talked with Kalem a distance away.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I said to Cana as I sat next to her.
“We wanted to be here earlier, but we were eating with my family. They’ve received a letter from Jarom.”
“Is he well?”
“He seemed to be.”
Kalem cleared his throat and we all looked at him. Micah stood at Cana’s side with a hand on her shoulder. Darius leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. Mother stood and went to stand beside Kalem.
“I’m glad you’ve all come,” Kalem said simply, taking a moment to look each of us in the eye. “I have all the people I love here tonight. I am a blessed man. I have been reunited with my Melia at last. In Muloki I have found the son I never had. And for many years, I have considered the rest of you my family.” He paused, and then he deliberately took Mother’s hand in his own. “And now Leah has agreed to make it all official.”
I looked up at Micah. He already knew. I glanced at Cana, but she was as surprised as I was. Darius jumped to his feet.
“Finally!” he exclaimed.
My eyes found Muloki’s. He sat across from me. He let his happiness for Kalem show, but he looked at me with a thoughtful gaze.
Then he turned his eyes to Melia.
I saw them warm, but his lips were set in a frown. I knew what was happening. He was choosing between us. And I knew that in the end he would choose Melia, because I pushed everyone away.
I stood and went to hug my mother. “You will be happy,” I told her.
As the evening went on, I watched Mother and Kalem hold hands after so many years of not touching at all.
I watched Melia and Muloki work together, smiling, to finish the evening chores. Muloki slept outside now and worked all day away from the hut, but they both lived there with Kalem. It wouldn’t be long.
I watched Cana gently and so easily getting Micah to do what she wanted him to do.
I stayed as long as I could stand it, and then I said, “Dare, you want to walk me home?”
He did, and we told everyone we would see them later.
“Did that feel weird to you?” he asked.
I knew exactly what he meant, and I laughed with the relief of being away. “Yes. It seems you forgot to bring yourself a girl.”
“Well, I did think of bringing Mui…” he said with a grin.
“Oh, no,” I giggled. “You musn’t steal your brother’s girl.”
We both sobered at that.
“No,” he said quietly. “But it has all worked out for the best. Micah and Cana are happy.”
But Kenai wasn’t.
“Cana said her family had a letter from Jarom today.”
He brightened. “Yes. An embassy came in to Melek with letters and packages from Nephihah.”
“Did you get a chance to read their letter?”
“No, but I read my own.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out a fold of thick flax paper. “Here.”
I took it and read it as we walked. “He sounds wonderful,” I said with relief. Darius watched me closely. As I read to the end, I began to feel my face heat, and when I had finished, I folded it over quickly and handed it back.
Darius reached out, let his hand hover near it, but did not take the letter from me.
“What’s going on?” he asked after he had studied me for a moment. “Is there something going on between you and Jarom?” At last he took the letter and replaced it into his satchel.
“Nothing’s going on,” I insisted. “Only that Jarom wishes for something between us,” I added, deciding to be honest. Jarom had written it into Darius’s letter anyway, and Darius was closer than a brother to him. There was no point in trying to hide it, not anymore. “At least, that’s what he wished for before I left Manti.”
Darius sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
“You knew?”
“I noticed things. I think it troubled him greatly. I’m surprised you knew.”
“He told me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have. I didn’t notice anything.”
“No,” he scoffed. “I guess you wouldn’t.”
I ignored his rude comment. “What am I to do about it? It appears as though his feelings have not changed, and that they have in fact deepened.”
“Could you return them?”
“No,” I said softly. “Never.”
“Because of Zeke?”
“Because I am a person of honor. It would be too cruel. I love Jarom as I love you, but there cannot be more.”
“I know,” he said.
Dusk was falling over the forest. I heard an owl in the trees, a wolf in the distance.
“Do you really love him as you love me?” Darius asked after a time.
“No,” I admitted. “But it could never be enough.”
He heaved a burdened sigh and changed the subject. “What have you been doing in the forest with your weapons? Not hunting. I never see you bring home meat.”
I glanced at him. “Just practicing. Training.”
“For what?”
“For nothing. It’s dumb. A waste of time.” I sighed deeply. “But it is the only time I feel like myself, Dare.”
“Oh, I understand,” he agreed readily. “I feel the same way.”
“You do?”
“Sure. That was our whole life for a long time. Raising sheep and watering the fields is not exactly what I want to do either.”
“What do you want to do?” I asked, realizing I had never actually put much thought to his ambitions.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But I should have guessed you were feeling this way too. I mean, look at you—you can’t even walk through the forest without feeling you need someone with you. Habits like that don’t just go away.”
I hadn’t recognized it, but he was right. Walking through the forest wasn’t even enjoyable anymore because I always fel
t like something was missing.
But when I ran, light and free, I experienced the old joy.
In that moment, I realized why Gideon had given me the ball. I thought of the countless hours we had spent kicking the ball with our unit, joking and laughing together. And with a sudden warmness in my heart, I thought of the times he and I had played alone, keeping the ball aloft between us while we talked, smiled helplessly, and fell in love.
Men are that they might have joy.
I took the ball from my satchel and ran my thumb over the soft leather.
“What do you have there?” Dare asked.
I gave a prayer of thanks in my heart and tossed the ball high into the air. When it came down again, I hit it with my elbow to my brother, who enthusiastically returned hit for hit.
When morning came, I stepped out of the hut into the silver dawn. Clouds hung low on the horizon. They were dark but beautiful and full of life-giving water.
I milked Mui, but I placed a loose rope over Abigail’s neck and walked her over to Chloe’s. I had talked to Mother about giving her back, and she agreed we didn’t need two milk goats.
“Chloe!” I called outside their gate.
When she came through the mat at the door, I saw her look at Abigail and then at me in confusion.
“She misses you,” I said. “She won’t give sweet milk to me.” I patted Abigail’s head, knelt down and handed the rope over to Chloe.
Her eyes widened and she threw her arms around me, almost knocking me over with her joy.
“Oh, thank you Ket-ah!”
“You are welcome, little Kanina.” I hugged her back, squeezing her so tight she squealed with laughter.
Isabel came out of the hut then, and she gave a teasing little grimace when she saw that the goat was back. “Good morning,” she said politely to me as Chloe led the goat into the yard.
Hemni and Dinah came from the hut, talking busily about the day ahead. When Hemni had tousled Chloe’s hair, winked at me, and patted the goat, he walked out through the gate to go to his tannery for the day. Isabel followed him.
I caught Dinah’s eye. Isabel was thirteen, and she put in long days sometimes with Hemni. Dinah sighed, exasperated.
“She reminds me of you,” she said, adding a smile to the sigh. I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or not.
I looked to where Hemni and Isabel were disappearing into the trees.
“Zeke ought to like that,” I said. “At Cumeni, after he fainted, the first thing he said when he became conscious was that one of me was bad enough.”
She laughed at this. “One of you is hardly enough,” she said. “The world needs more girls like you and Isabel.”
“Girls who do a man’s work?” I asked, frankly surprised at her opinion.
She tilted her head. “Well, no. Not exactly, I guess. Girls who follow their hearts. Girls who obey the Spirit. Follow their own path. Girls who do not waste their talents simply because someone says it is not right or insists they can’t do it.”
“I wish you would have gotten that idea through to your son,” I said with a little smile.
“Oh, you know Zeke has his own mind and heart. He is a good son. Immovable, stubborn—those can be such good qualities.”
I gave a little snort.
“If they are not met with such stalwart resistance,” she conceded.
I studied her face. Dinah had kind eyes, lined with many years of laughter, brimming with many years of hardship. She looked at me with faith and love.
I sighed and asked plaintively, “Dinah, do you wish very much for me to marry Zeke?”
She pressed my arm and led me to sit in the courtyard. “I wish very much for you to follow your heart. Does it lead you to Zeke?”
“I do love Zeke,” I told her. “Very much.”
“Well, I know that, dear.” She patted my hand and left her hand resting on mine. “You must ask yourself if you can live without Zeke. Can you be happy without him?” She looked to where Hemni had disappeared into the trees. “I once felt as you do.”
I turned my hand into hers and clasped it. I couldn’t imagine her being conflicted about marrying Hemni. He was so steady, so honest, so hard-working, filled with goodness, and was very handsome besides. He loved her and their children beyond measure.
“It was very much the same as for you. He was the son of my father’s friend. At the time, I felt my decision was rushed. In the end, my father made it for me because I could not. But I trusted him, and I trusted Hemni. And I trusted that they did not want me to be unhappy. Neither of them wanted my heart to be in turmoil.”
My eyes shot to hers. She smiled. “And after a time, it wasn’t.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
She laughed. “If you didn’t love Zeke so much, you wouldn’t be so troubled. You are trying to think of a way out of the marriage that won’t cause him pain. It’s just not possible. So you tell yourself you will marry him, and it’s no wonder you look at me with confusion in these sad eyes.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “Dinah,” I whispered.
She gave me a grave look. “Even if I had not witnessed Gid kiss you at your gate, did you think your mother would not have told me about him?”
I looked down into my lap, my face hot as coals.
She put her arm around me, encircling me in her warm understanding. “It can be noble to do as your family wishes, my dear, but be honest with yourself and realize that is why you have done it. It takes strength to follow that path.” She squeezed my shoulders. “But it takes as much strength or more to follow a new path, to blindly step where the Lord leads you.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Sometimes, the fiercest battles in life are not fought on the battlefield. They are fought inside the heart.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her. “Thank you, Dinah. I will think on this.”
She took a deep breath. “Do more than think,” she advised. “You have decided in your mind to choose my son, and I see that you have nothing but turmoil in your heart.” She paused and tried to hide her sadness. “Choose differently, and hear what the Spirit tells you then.”
Chapter 19
I was standing at the top of the falls when I saw a band of Nephite soldiers come in on the West Road. This was not an unusual sight. A great many of the striplings had come home when Micah and Darius had, and I still frequently saw soldiers coming and going.
I thought I recognized the loping gait of the leader of this band of men, and so I ran down to the meadow, strapped on my weapons, and darted through the thick vegetation toward the West Road. I came out ahead of them and waited above the road in the evergreen leaves. My heart filled with excitement as they came around the bend and I could see them clearly.
I slid down the hill on my feet, a skill I had learned while building the embankment in Judea, and began to walk toward them on the road.
About two units of men approached me, a wide grin forming on their leader’s face.
“I didn’t expect a welcoming committee,” called Kenai.
When he spoke, I broke into a run. I reached him, and he picked me up and swung me around like a child.
It was strange, but I barely registered it at the time. We normally weren’t any more affectionate with each another than light teasing. Kenai had gotten taller, and hard, and new scars marked his arms, his temple, and a scary one bisected his throat.
I noticed this all at a glance while I registered the other men stopping too and pulling up their water skins.
“Are we close then?” one of the men asked.
“Another hour by the road,” someone else answered, and I knew his voice.
I turned and saw Jarom making his way up through the loose ranks.
I was stunned at how much he had changed. He hardly resembled Zeke at all now. He hardly resembled himself. He had cropped his hair very short, and it stuck out in a way that was adorable. But that was the only thing adorable abo
ut him. He had developed the muscles I had always sought for myself. He had grown several inches taller, which made his leathern kilt look shorter. He had become broader through the chest and thicker in the arms. He was seventeen, but he was full grown. Like Kenai, he had new scars and his eyes had seen more, much more, than mine had.
The men were calling to Kenai, whistling, telling him his girl was pretty. And they were much less polite than I expected them to be.
Jarom stood looking me over, drinking me in with his eyes, arms folded over his huge chest. He laughed. “Keturah is the captain’s sister!” he called back over his shoulder. “She is my girl!” And he picked me up and kissed me, brief but hard and full on the mouth in front of two units of cheering soldiers.
When Jarom set me down, I slapped his face, much to the amusement of the men. But I couldn’t resist the laughter in his eyes, and my mouth twisted up into a smile despite myself.
I offered to lead them up through the trees and Kenai looked longingly toward them, but in the end decided to continue on the road. So I traveled with them, flanked by Kenai and Jarom and felt more comfortable than I had in all the time I had been home—well over a year now.
“Are you home for Mother’s wedding? Will you be going back? Have you been stationed at Nephihah all this time? Was Captain Moroni there? What is he like?”
“Whoa, Ket,” Kenai laughed. “One question at a time.”
I took a breath. “Are you here to stay?”
He and Jarom exchanged a glance. “Yes,” he said.
“Captain.” Someone had come up beside Kenai as we walked. I leaned forward to peer around my brother and groaned out loud when I saw who it was.
“Allow me to greet your sister,” Mahonri said with a glint in his eye that looked more like a sneer.
Kenai drew his knife with a flourish and cast a meaningful look at Jarom. “The next man who greets my sister dies.”
Barks of laughter, guffaws, and challenges went up through the trees, but I noticed Kenai did not sheathe his knife. These were not the same boys I had gone to war with, boys who relied on the prophet and on the Spirit implicitly. These were men who had fought in the ranks of the regular Nephite army.
