Free Rebekah by Jill Eileen Smith Page A

gasped, startled at the request. The circular well had many steps going to the spring below. To carry the jar down and up again with the many trips they would need to fill the stone troughs was more than any maiden would offer a stranger.
    “Why do you pray for the impossible?” the younger man said. “A woman would need to be very strong and determined to carry water up and down the steps to fill the troughs.”

    The young man shared Deborah’s sentiments. Perhaps she should just step from beneath the trees and invite the men to Laban’s house, to save Rebekah the loss she must surely face when she did not do as the servant asked.
    Disappointment filled her at the thought.
    “Is not the master’s God able to do the impossible? Was not Isaac’s birth proof of this? Wait and see, my son, what God will do.”
    Shame replaced her doubt. Surely it was possible. Rebekah had a giving heart and a strong back, but this . . .
    She moved just beyond the tree line at the sound of female voices drawing closer. Rebekah and Selima and the other girls from town approached, laughing and talking among themselves.
    Deborah slipped away and circled around toward the city gates. She could not bear to watch the man’s prayers go unanswered. She should not doubt Rebekah, but if she stayed, she would surely interfere and insist on helping and thwart the man’s prayer before God could answer it. A prayer that was too big for any woman to fulfill. Abraham’s servant was putting God and Rebekah to too great a test.

    “Did you see those men?” Selima’s girlish giggle followed the comments.
    Rebekah gave her an indulging smile. “From the corner of my eye, without looking at them conspicuously, yes. And I suppose you did too.” She lowered her water jar and dipped it into the flowing river, waiting as it filled to the top.
    “The young one and the old one were looking at us.” Selima filled her jar and hefted it onto her shoulder, following Rebekah back up the steps. “The young one is handsome.”
    “Interesting that you could notice such a thing in one quick glance.” Rebekah smiled at the blush on Selima’s cheeks asshe steadied her full jar with one hand, her gaze on the stone steps. The trek was as familiar as her weaving, and she could make it easily enough, but after the rain they’d had the night before, the stones were slippery, and she took extra care to be sure-footed.
    “And interesting that you did not.” Selima’s indignant tone made Rebekah laugh. Her maid noticed every young man they met either in the markets or in the streets. Except for the shepherds, who were usually too young or too old, it was rare to see one at the well.
    “They are travelers. There is no sense in noticing whether they are handsome or not since it is certain they have not come to stay. Besides, he is likely already married.” She glanced over her shoulder at Selima, noting the girl’s pout. “Cheer up, Selima. One day we will both find men who are worthy of our notice and our dreams.”
    Rebekah put one hand along the wall as they reached the curve of the well, knowing the words were more hope than reality. She waited a moment for Selima to reach the top, then headed back toward the city gate. She stopped as she glimpsed the older man they had noticed earlier hurrying toward her.
    “Please give me a little water from your jar,” he said, stopping within arm’s length of her. She read sincerity in his dark eyes, guessing him to be about as old as her father would have been had he lived.
    She quickly lowered the jar to the ground and took a step back, allowing him to approach. “Drink, my lord.”
    He scooped water from his hand to his mouth. She looked beyond him, noticing the younger man Selima had mentioned watching, but his gaze seemed fixed beyond her. Rebekah hid a smile as Selima’s face flushed crimson. Rebekah glanced back at the man and saw several other men sitting nearby among a pack of ten camels, looking