Free Martha by Diana Wallis Taylor

considered a Jew, but due to the fact my father is Roman and has great standing with the Roman army, I became a soldier, but I had to fight my way up the ranks.” He smiled ruefully. “I tell you this for selfish reasons, hoping to persuade you to consider me . . .”
    â€œAs a friend?” She interrupted, afraid of what he would say next, yet eager to hear the words.
    He smiled then and his eyes searched hers. “Yes, for now. I am not young, Martha. While I do not have a great deal to offer, when I am able to leave the army I shall have a small pension, the villa, and also a monthly stipend from my father. It would be an adequate income for a family to live on . . .”
    She looked away toward Jerusalem for a long moment. Then she faced him. “Do you know what that would mean for me?”
    He nodded. “To be separated from one’s family and possibly ostracized by friends and neighbors, perhaps even family. Yes, I know, but nevertheless, I can hope.”
    She was never one to hide her feelings. As she gazed at his face, a door opened in her heart. She felt light inside, and for a moment, the obstacles between them seemed as feathers to be brushed away. Then she sighed. Reality was another thing.
    She put a hand on his arm. “Let us be friends for now, Thaddeus. I find my mind whirling with many thoughts and I must sort them out. There is something between us, but it has happened so quickly.”
    He nodded sagely and spoke softly. “I won’t rush you. Until next Sabbath . . . Martha.”
    â€œUntil next Sabbath . . . Thaddeus.”
    He turned and strode quickly into the trees.
    She dawdled on her way home, her mind in turmoil as her heart and her sense of duty warred within her. Would she go to the grove next Sabbath? With a sigh, she knew she would. And what would she say?
    â€œOh God, have mercy on me and give me wisdom. I don’t know what to do.” She needed to work; it was her solace. She must keep her thoughts from flying in foolish directions.

    The weeks in between Sabbaths seemed an eternity. She hoped the family would put her obvious distraction down to her concern for her father. With Esther gone, there was no one she dared share her secret with, and it burned within her.
    That Sabbath, when she reached the olive grove, she looked anxiously about. Then in a moment, Thaddeus was there. Only her strong will kept her from flinging herself into his arms. They sat in a shady spot, careful not to sit too near, for she sensed his longing was as tangible as hers.
    â€œIt goes well with you, Martha?”
    â€œIt goes well.” Where could she begin to voice what had grown so quickly from bud to flower within her heart? The conversation was mundane. He talked of the army and she of the events in their village. Whenever she happened to glance up and meet his eyes, they drew her into their depths, and with effort, she looked away.
    â€œMartha, my time in Jerusalem draws to a close. I’ve learned I may be sent back to Rome to prepare for separation from the army. I have a few weeks at most. I would give you time, a year if I could, to think of these things, but I must speak now. I know that in the eyes of your village, you are past the age of marriage . . .”
    Her chin lifted. “Do you pity me, Thaddeus?”
    â€œNo, my beloved, for that is what you are to me. I see a woman with strength and courage . . . and beauty. I would offer you marriage, and a villa in Cyprus where we could raise a family. As I told you before, I am able to provide for you.” He leaned toward her. “I do not want to return there alone.”
    He thought her beautiful. She was touched beyond words. It was her last chance for marriage and children . . . and he loved her. Still she hesitated.
    Her voice was almost a whisper. “You ask at great cost, Thaddeus.”
    â€œYou would not be mistreated as a Jewess