I paused to look down at him, glad to see that the bruises on his face had already faded. For the rest of my life, I’d never forget the horror on his face when he realized I’d thrown him into the fighting ring unprepared.
“It’s all right,” I said. “I am not going anywhere. Ever. And for as long as I live, you will have a home with me.”
He looked up at me, and for the first time since I’d dragged him off of that Philistine soldier, the look of guardedness melted away, replaced by the sheen of tears. “Do you promise?”
I swallowed hard. “In the name of Yahweh, the Holy One, I vow that I will not leave you.”
He nodded, his chin wobbling. Then he darted off to follow my nephews, who I very much hoped might be like brothers to the boy one day.
Ronen came to my side as I watched Zevi disappear around a bend in the trail. “Well, my friend, it’s not much farther. Are you ready for this?”
“I am,” I replied on a heavy sigh. “I only wish I could go back and undo leaving ten years ago.”
“Then you wouldn’t see just how much you were missed all this time. And neither would you know what it’s like to be offered unmerited grace by this extraordinary family. I should know—I’ve been marveling over it myself for years.”
Before I could respond to such a profound statement, Risi appeared at the top of the trail not ten paces away, her long thick braid reflecting the sunlight. One of my sister’s hands was on her well-rounded belly and the other gripped that of a little girl who so resembled her it could be none other than her daughter. Except the golden-haired child had two different colored eyes—one brown, one green—just like me.
“I . . . I couldn’t wait any longer,” Risi said, tears already tracking down her cheeks.
I stumbled forward, leaning into my staff as I climbed the last incline. The years melted away as I stood before my sister, my champion, and the only words I could choke out of my ravaged throat were “I’m sorry, Risi.”
The hand that was on her belly reached for me, and I let her tug me forward. I leaned down to place my forehead on her shoulder. She sifted her trembling fingers through my hair like she used to do when I was a boy, and peace washed through me like a cool stream.
And like always, even when I was at my worst as an angry and bitter young man, unconditional love flowed from within her as she said, “Welcome home.”
Thirty-Six
Shoshana
“What is that one, Ima?” asked my son, his small hand cupped around his ear.
I paused to listen to the birdcall, with its long series of chirps and warbles. Asher had been so delighted when I discerned a few different types of birds by their songs on our way to Eliora’s terraced gardens this morning that he kept insisting I identify each new one we heard. But as I did so, I could not help but remember the boy who’d taught me such skills all those years ago. It had been nine long days since Lukio’s brothers had left for Ashdod, and each day that passed I’d grown more desperate for distractions to keep my mind occupied and not dwelling upon why we’d heard nothing from them.
The festival would have been long over by now. I could not stomach the thought that not only had Lukio been lost to me forever, but that Eliora and the other women had lost their husbands as well. Perhaps I should not have told his brothers where he was. But then again, they’d been so determined, and if there was even the slightest chance—
“Ima!” pressed Asher, breaking into the cycle of guilt and fear that had been my constant companion these past few days. “What is that bird?”
“I’m not certain. It’s been so long. And most of the ones I know only sing at night.”
He frowned but continued searching the bushes for the sweet berries he and Aaliyah had been gathering. Eliora—whom my children adored—had told them they were welcome to eat as many berries as they brought home in their baskets, so their mouths and fingers were already stained a deep purple.
Galit and I had simply been glad for the excuse to get away from the house, where a cloud of uncertainty had hung over the household like ash for days now. And since Yoela had insisted that she would keep Davina entertained, we’d already spent a long while exploring. Lukio’s mother had folded my little one into her ever-expanding brood of grandchildren without hesitation.
“Look, Asher!” called Aaliyah. “A butterfly!”
The two of them took after the orange-and-black insect, giggling as they made an attempt to catch it mid-flight, then darting around the garden in pursuit, jumping and squealing.
Although they’d seemed to accept that I was not going anywhere, they still kept me in their sights much of the time, and I guessed they might do so for a long while. They were so happy here on this mountain. They smiled and laughed freely like they’d never really done when we lived in Beth Shemesh. Growing up here with so many children near their ages would be a blessing.
“They are so beautiful, Shoshana,” said Galit, as we watched my children flit joyfully around the clearing.
“It is hard to believe that we are here together,” I said on a sigh. “It seems as though any moment I will wake up and be back in Ashdod.”
Galit did not respond, her eyes latched on some far distance. She’d been so quiet since our arrival in Kiryat-Yearim. Although I’d suspected Avel’s adoration of her, I’d not known for certain that she’d returned that affection until he was gone. So, in addition to healing physically, Galit was deep in the throes of mourning what could have been had we all escaped.
I understood her pain, for although Lukio hadn’t died when we parted the first time, it had felt very much as if he had, and now I was again suspended in the unknown, waiting to see if Galit and I would be mourning the men we loved together.
“They will bring him home,” she said, as if she could hear my turbulent thoughts.
“I am afraid to hope.”
“That is understandable,” she said, “but you held on to hope for these sweet ones.” She gestured to Asher and Aaliyah, who’d now discovered a lizard of some sort to beleaguer.
I brushed my fingers over the frothy stalks of a plant I had no name for, one of the many exotic varieties Eliora had cultivated here. “I got my children back. My baby was returned to me. It almost seems greedy to beg Yahweh for Lukio too, especially when you . . .” I let the words die away.
She breathed out a sigh. “I loved him. Even though the moments we were truly alone were rare. And if the Philistines would have allowed slaves to marry, we would have done. You may think it is terrible, and I understand if you want me to leave, but we were, in all respects, joined in as much of a marriage covenant as we could have been.”
Then, to add to the revelation of what she’d admitted, she smoothed her hand over her belly. “And Yahweh saw fit to leave me with a piece of Avel, a gift in the midst of my sorrow.”
I sucked in a breath, thinking of the terrible beating she’d received from the Philistine guards. “Are you certain after what happened that the baby is . . . ?”
She nodded, smiling gently. “I felt movement just this morning.”
“And did Avel know?”
A tear slipped down her cheek, the first I’d seen. “He did. So, you see, there is hope, even though he is gone.”
No wonder he’d been so ferocious in his defense of her and willing to risk himself. He’d been protecting two people he loved.
“Oh, Galit.” I gripped both of her hands in mine. “I am so happy for you. And you are not going anywhere. You and your child are welcome here.”
Her eyes glistened. “I was not certain where I would go. Everyone in my family is gone. And although I know I am from the tribe of Efraim, I was so young I don’t even remember which town I lived in. It was just home.”
“If there is one thing I know about Elazar’s clan, it’s that they welcome anyone in need of a place to belong. So Kiryat-Yearim will be your home now. And we will be your family.”
“Shoshana!” Zevi’s urgent call carried across the gar
dens. “Shoshana!”
My gut clenched tight at the urgency in his voice. “Here, Zevi!”
Igo bounded out of the woods before Zevi, tail wagging and tongue lolling. The canine seemed just as thrilled to be in Kiryat-Yearim as the rest of us, no longer cowering in the presence of strangers.
A few moments later, Zevi appeared, with three other boys in his wake. Avidan and Gavriel were a year younger than he was, and Shalem, two. I’d noticed that Zevi seemed drawn to the three of them, watching their games and following them about with his eyes, even as he continued to keep to himself. Until today, I’d not actually seen him join in with their little group. Perhaps some of the healing I’d been praying over him had already begun.
“There you are!” Zevi called the moment he saw me with Galit, beckoning me with both arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere. Hurry! They’re back!”
Then, before I could even ask if Lukio was with them, the four boys spun around and plunged back into the trees, Igo bounding along behind.
“Wait!” I called out. But Zevi was gone, leaving me trapped between panic and the only small piece of hope I’d allowed myself to hold on to.
“Go,” said Galit, her tone urgent. “I’ll watch the children.”
“Are you certain?” My breaths came shallow.
“They’ll show me the way back. Go! You need to know.”
As if I’d swallowed my own swarm of butterflies, my stomach whirled as I sped directly through the trees toward the group of homes that made up Elazar’s expanded household. My thoughts, however, refused to stay in a straight line, all the fears I’d been holding at bay rushing into my mind at once.
He had to be here. I did not know how I would breathe if he was not. I needed him. Zevi needed him. My children needed him.
As I came upon the compound, my heart was an insistent drum, beating three times the speed of my legs, which were stiff with cold fear. A small crowd had gathered near the head of the trail, much like they’d been the day of our return.
I spotted Iyov and Yonah speaking to Elazar off to one side, neither of whom looked injured or upset—and the sight made a bright bloom unfurl a few hopeful petals as I slipped through the crowd of family and friends.
Although I didn’t see Gershom or the three Hebrew men who’d willingly gone back—for Lukio’s sake—to the very place they’d just been freed from, the lighthearted chatter all around gave me cause to pick up my pace. Surely if something terrible had happened, there would be long faces, tears, perhaps even the awful cries of mourning that accompanied tragedies.
And then I saw him. Alive. Whole. One long arm wrapped around his sister’s shoulder as he stood with his back to me.
Although everything inside me screamed to run to him, to throw my arms around him and demand an accounting of every moment that had passed between when I’d last seen him and now, I held back. Eliora had endured a much longer wait to be with her beloved brother and deserved an uninterrupted reunion. I would be patient, even if it meant my hands shook and my insides quivered as I drank in the sight of him like a fresh stream.
When he turned to look down at his sister, his face was pale and there was extensive bruising that encircled both his eye and his cheekbone. My stomach bottomed out. He’d been beaten and looked beyond exhausted.
Yet even with his face battered, Lukio was breathtaking. A head taller than every other man on the mountain, the sunlight spilled over him, seeking out the golden tones of his light brown hair and newly bearded jaw. The beard made him look much less the polished champion of Ashdod and more like one of the other men who called Kiryat-Yearim their home. But still, he drew every eye in the clearing with that same entrancing magnetism that caused an entire city to be enthralled with him, and somehow I doubted that allure would ever wane.
But would he truly be happy here? He’d been so restless as a boy, wanting to be anywhere but this mountain, always scheming ways to earn a living apart from Elazar’s family. Would he be unsatisfied with the life of a humble woodsman? Perhaps once he spent enough time with me, he would regret the words he’d said in his rooftop garden and realize that I was not the girl who’d once flitted about the forest in his wake. Perhaps I was too jaded now. Too changed.
Also, it was one thing to speak of being a family back in Ashdod, but would he ever look at Asher and Aaliyah and not see echoes of his enemy in their faces? Or look at Davina and not remember how she came to be? He’d always had such a difficult time surrendering the hurts of the past. Would he allow resentment to color his perception of my precious children?
As I battled my fears, Lukio’s lips curled into a wide smile directed toward Eliora. Not the haughty smirk of Demon Eyes or the persuasive charm he’d used back in Ashdod, but a true and genuine grin of delight as he talked with the older sister he’d always adored.
I noticed that his massive shoulders no longer held the tension that I’d seen the first time he’d spoken with Mariada on the terrace. Instead, he looked relaxed, at peace. There may have been a long distance between him and Eliora until now, and a wagonload of bitterness on Lukio’s part, but it was more than evident that there was an unbreakable bond forged by their childhood that could not be severed.
Igo barked somewhere behind me and Lukio’s attention was snagged by the sound, but instead of catching sight of the dog, he saw me standing about fifteen paces away, paralyzed with anticipation and fear.
His arm dropped from around Eliora’s shoulder and he turned to face me, both of us staring across a small distance that was still far, far too wide.
With a knowing grin, Eliora walked away, giving us space for our own reunion. Perhaps others did as well, but I did not care to take my eyes off Lukio to see if we were being watched.
He started toward me, leaning heavily on a staff, and I realized that it was not just his face that had been injured but his leg as well and perhaps other places, if the stiffness of his gait was any indication. My gut churned. What all had he endured to protect me? I met him, step for step, until only two paces stood between us.
“Tesi,” he breathed out, with so much reverence that my knees wobbled. “My Tesi.”
And then before I could even register how we came together, I was enveloped by his comforting presence and his lips were on mine. I did not care if his entire family was witnessing the collapse of my restraint. My Lukio, my dearest friend and love, was alive.
A hum of deep satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he tugged me closer, until my feet were nearly off the ground and my fingers were tangled in his long hair.
Remembering suddenly that he was injured, I tried to pull back, but his arms were iron bars around my body. I could only tip my head back and look up into his beautiful bruised face. “How?”
“Yahweh,” he said, and a sweet smile tugged one side of his lips upward. “And my brothers.”
For the moment, that was all the explanation I needed. There would be plenty of time for him to unroll the story of his return in the days to come. For now, I simply laid my head on his chest where it belonged and breathed him in for a long, long time.
A small hand tugged at mine, dragging me out of my Lukio-induced stupor.
“Ima?” said Asher from my side. “Who is that?”
Startled by his presence and blushing at the reminder that our first kiss in ten years had been on full display of everyone—and would be as good as a public declaration of betrothal to most—I attempted to step back. But Lukio still would not fully release me, keeping one arm about my waist.
Galit approached with Davina in her arms, an apologetic look on her face, and Aaliyah clutching her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “the children were worried. And Yoela said Davina has been fussing for you.”
“It’s all right,” I said, then turned to my son, whose eyes were two full moons as he looked all the way up at the man beside me. “Asher, this is Lukio. My . . . my . . . friend.” The word was woefully inadequate, but the conversation about who Lukio was to me, and who he
might be to them, could wait.
Lukio squeezed my waist teasingly, obviously amused by my tangled tongue. “Shalom, Asher. Have you been exploring the woods today?”
Not one to know a stranger, Asher held up his palms, which were stained purple and red, matching the streaks of color around his mouth. “We picked berries in Eliora’s garden.”
“Ah,” said Lukio. “There are no tastier berries anywhere in the world. Whenever my sister used to ask me to pick berries for her, I usually ate more than ever ended up in my basket. And once, early in the morning, I surprised a small bear sitting right in the middle of the patch who was enjoying Risi’s berries as well.”
Asher’s jaw dropped open. “What did you do?”
“I quietly backed away and left him to eat his fill. It’s not wise to tussle with a bear.”
“But you are just as big as one—bigger even!”
Lukio tilted his head back and laughed, while at the same time pulling me closer to his side. “I wasn’t always this size.”
“Will I be as big as you one day?” asked my son.
Grinning, Lukio reached out and scrubbed his hand through Asher’s dark hair. “We shall see.”
Such a simple statement that spoke volumes. Lukio meant to stay with us, to be there to watch Asher grow into a man himself one day. And although Aaliyah remained tucked into Galit’s side, her big hazel eyes watched Lukio with interest. I had no doubt that he would have her in his thrall within a day or two.
Galit handed Davina to me. “I am glad you are well, Lukio. We’ve all been so worried. I don’t think Shoshana has slept since we parted from you.”
He looked down at me with an expression so intense I held my breath until he spoke. “Have no fear. I mean to make certain we are never parted again.”
With a sly smile that proved she did not in any way begrudge the return of my love when hers had been lost, Galit ushered Aaliyah and Asher back toward the house, leaving Lukio and me alone, with Davina in my arms. The baby gazed up at Lukio with curiosity but then pressed against my chest, taking comfort in my nearness, something I hoped she would never stop doing, even when she learned to spread her own wings wide.
Between the Wild Branches Page 33
