Rachel (Wives of the Patriarchs Book #3)

Eileen Smith Jill

Description

Beautiful Rachel wants nothing more than for her older half sister Leah to wed and move out of their household. Maybe then she would not feel so scrutinized, so managed, so judged. Plain Leah wishes her father Laban would find a good man for her, someone who would love her alone and make her his only bride. Unbeknownst to either of them, Jacob is making his way to their home, trying to escape a past laced with deceit and find the future God has promised him.But the past comes back to haunt Jacob when he finds himself on the receiving end of treachery and the victim of a cruel bait and switch. The man who wanted only one woman will end up with sisters who have never gotten along and now must spend the rest of their lives sharing a husband. In the power struggles that follow, only one woman will triumph . . . or will she?Combining meticulous research with her own imaginings, Jill Eileen Smith not only tells one of the most famous love stories of all time but will manage to surprise even those who think they know the story inside and out.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 04 février 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441245304
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

© 2014 by Jill Eileen Smith
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www . revellbooks .com
Ebook edition created 2014
Ebook corrections 02.24.2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-4530-4
Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearance of certain historical figures is therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published in association with the Books & Such Literary Agency, Wendy Lawton, Central Valley Office, P.O. Box 1227, Hilmar, CA 95324, [e-mail]
“A faithful portrayal of the story of Jacob and his two wives, Rachel will make you feel the agony of two sisters in love with the same man. Jealousy, betrayal, heartache, and deceit cannot prevent the invisible hand of God from leading His people inexorably toward the fulfillment of their destiny. Smith has the knack of making her fiction feel truly authentic to the world of the Bible.”
— Tessa Afshar , award-winning author of Harvest of Gold
Praise for Rebekah
“In her second Wives of the Patriarchs book, Smith makes biblical fiction unforgettable and worthy of our attention. This incredible author’s ability to re-create biblical settings and transform dialogue delivers a God-given message that is just as relevant today as it was thousands of years ago.”
— RT Book Reviews , 4 stars
“With attention to detail in every aspect of her writing, Jill makes this story sing with love, human frailty, and triumph. Rebekah is a powerful story that supports the biblical account and proposes a reasoned and moving story of what could have been. Rebekah is biblical storytelling at its finest and is well worth adding to your shelves.”
— Rel Mollet , Relz Reviews
Praise for Sarai
“The scriptural account of Abraham and Sarah is not only a testament of God’s faithfulness to His promises, it’s a story of love. Smith skillfully captures both, and the essence of living in Old Testament times, by combining biblical facts with research-based interpretation and her own imagination to create a detailed drama that will leave readers eagerly awaiting the second book in the series.”
— CBA Retailers+Resources
“Smith is at her best in handling the triangulated relationship between Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar . . . Smith breathes new imaginative life into a well-known sacred story.”
— Publishers Weekly
To my sister Elaine.
Rachel and Leah’ s relationship has taught me much, to appreciate all that God has given. I am so grateful God gave me a sister, and I am glad that sister is you.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Endorsements
Dedication
Part 1
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Part 2
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
Part 3
22
23
24
25
26
27
Part 4
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Jill Eileen Smith
Back Ads
Back Cover
Part 1

Then Jacob continued on his journey and came to the land of the eastern peoples . . .
When Jacob saw Rachel daughter of his uncle Laban, and Laban’s sheep, he went over and rolled the stone away from the mouth of the well and watered his uncle’s sheep. Then Jacob kissed Rachel and began to weep aloud. He had told Rachel that he was a relative of her father and a son of Rebekah. So she ran and told her father.
Genesis 29:1, 10–12
Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the older was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel . . .
So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her.
Genesis 29:16, 20
1
H ARRAN , 1879 BC
The spindle moved in an almost sacred rhythm as Rachel’s hands kept time with the pace of her feet. The sun spilled down at a midmorning angle over her father’s small flock as she walked, whistling a tune the sheep would recognize, pausing every now and then to look behind her.
They came to a grassy knoll, and she settled on one of the low hills where her perch allowed a better view of the animals as they grazed not far below. She set the spindle and distaff aside and reached into her pouch for a hunk of bread and cheese that she had packed early that morning. How relieved she had been to escape the confines of the house where Leah’s look of censure and biting words had heated her blood.
“There is no need for kohl when you are only attending those few sheep. You waste it. Do you not care for the expense it costs our father?” Leah had stood in the door to Rachel’s bedchamber, hands folded, her expression carrying that smug, older-sister look Rachel had grown to despise. If Leah cared more for her appearance and used a bit of kohl herself, she might have found a husband by now. But Rachel bit back the unkind words.
“I don’t waste it. A small amount in the right places protects my eyes from the harsh sun.” She glanced from the bronze mirror to Leah’s scowling face. “And Father has gold enough to afford this small luxury.” That this particular kohl had been bought from merchants of Punt and cost her father more than he would normally consider for such a frivolous purchase did not trouble her. Leah worried too much.
Rachel gathered up her leather pouch and fastened it to her belt, then strode toward the door where Leah stood. “It would not hurt you to use some cosmetics now and then, you know.” At the narrowing of her sister’s pale eyes, she amended, “Most of our friends do so.”
The comment had done little to ease the tension. Leah was usually the quiet sort but, where Rachel was concerned, seemed too quick at times to voice her motherly opinion. That there were ten years between them might have accounted for her to become Rachel’s self-appointed adviser, but Rachel was weary of being told what to do.
She nibbled the cheese, her keen senses long attuned to the deviously quiet hills. She paused, listening. A moment later a small flock of birds took flight as one of the lambs drew too near. She leaned back against the trunk of a tamarisk tree.
If only Leah would marry and move away. Life would have been far easier for Rachel if she’d been her father’s only daughter. With her father’s two wives, not to mention a household of female servants, there were women enough to do the household chores and see that the men were well fed. The tension came in Leah’s presence. Would they get along better if they’d had the same mother?
She finished the cheese and water from the goatskin at her side, then took up the spindle again. There had to be a way to soften the strife with her half sister. And hadn’t she tried to be kind, to take care not to flaunt her beauty in Leah’s presence?
Leah seemed to have no trouble criticizing her in every other way, from Rachel’s culinary skills to her work with the loom. Only Leah knew how to make such fine garments from their father’s wool. Only Leah could bake sweet treats that were crisp, tasty, and light as fine flour.
The thought stung. She was not some shallow-minded child. She was a woman as any other and had learned to cook and weave as well as the next woman. But Rachel far preferred to spin and shepherd the flock than be cooped up in the house with Leah and her mother, Farah. Farah, the first wife. Leah, the first daughter. While Rachel was the last born, and a girl at that, to a lesser wife. If not for her beauty, she would be counted as worth very little in her father’s eyes.
She blinked, tasting the salt of bitterness in an unexpected tear that slipped down her cheek. She brushed it away and lifted her chin. She would not weep over Leah or her father’s expectations or the tension of Laban’s house.
But as the sun drew its pathway to the west and the time came to take the sheep to the well for watering, Rachel could not help the earnest longing that filled her. To marry. To leave her father’s house and start anew. Away from the bitterness and strife of her father’s two wives. Away from her half brothers and the image they had of her as spoiled baby sister.
To be rid of Leah and her sharp tongue.

Leah sat at the loom, threaded a rich poppy-dyed woolen weft strand through the warp, and drew it through with practiced ease. Her father’s second wife, Suri, Rachel’s mother, sat at another loom in the opposite corner of the weaving room, her nimble fingers moving as swiftly as Leah’s. A subtle tension filled the air between them, as it always did when Suri chose to weave at the same hour as Leah. Competition to create the better garment was passed off as friendly, but in her heart, Leah knew the rivalry was more out of envy than camaraderie.
She released a long-suffering sigh, her thoughts still mulling over her conversation with Rachel that morning. The girl was incorrigible! Always flaunting those dark eyes at every male who passed, even using her haughty charm on Leah’s older brothers. That the family coddled her was undeniable. Was it any wonder that Leah felt compelled to help the girl use some common sense and not waste the family’s resources on frivolities?
Rachel heard none of it, of course. “It would not hurt you to use some cosmetics now and then, you know.” As if kohl could change the color of Leah’s pale eyes . . . or give her the confidence she lacked.
She surveyed the row,