Dinah scowled at him. “Are you suggesting I am not capable, my brother?”
He held up a hand. “No, of course not. You are as good a weaver as your mother.”
“Which is why he asked me. He didn’t want to burden her with it. I am young, and the work is easier on me than on her.” She glanced at the pile of wool yet to be dyed. “Shouldn’t you be off to whatever it is you do with the steward all day?”
Joseph laughed. “Trying to be rid of me, I see. I can take a hint.” He kissed her cheek. “I am off to inspect the stores of wheat. Then we will visit the fields. Then I will see if the records match what I can see.”
“You are becoming quite the manager.” She smiled at him, and he returned it.
“I do enjoy learning.” He left her with a parting wave. As he walked toward the tents of the steward, he wondered why his father had decided to use the finest wool for a coat that no one in the camp needed. It was not his business, Joseph told himself. What his father chose to do was his own.
Dinah at last had twelve baskets in a half circle near her loom. Each basket held one of the colors that defined each brother—their symbol of place given to them at birth. Red carnelian for Reuben, pale yellow green of chalcedony for Simeon, deep emerald green for Levi, turquoise for Judah, blue like lapis lazuli for Issachar, pearly white like moonstone for Zebulun, red orange like jacinth for Dan, a mix of light and dark brown for Naphtali, pale purple like amethyst for Gad, blue green like crystal beryl for Asher, shining black like onyx for Joseph, and olive green like jasper for Benjamin.
She admired her work, pleased that the dyes had come out so well. She could hold any one of the colors up to the robes her brothers now wore and find them a perfect match. A slight smile edged her lips. She had not felt such satisfaction in a long time. Her father was right to give her this task. It had pulled her from her melancholy as she aimed to do her very best for each batch of dye and wool.
She sank onto a cushion, took the red carnelian shade from Reuben’s basket, and attached it to her spindle.
“Would you like some help with the spinning?” Her mother stood near, looking down at Dinah, an unreadable expression on her face. Was her mother still troubled by the fact that Jacob had asked Dinah to do this work?
Dinah pointed to Simeon’s basket and nodded. “If you don’t mind spinning with me, you can start with that one. I want to weave them in the order they are placed around me.”
Leah’s gaze moved over each color, her brow furrowing. “These are your brothers’ colors.”
“Yes,” Dinah said, her heart skipping a beat in fear that her mother might again question why her father wanted this robe.
“Your father chose well then,” she said, taking the wool and sitting across from Dinah. Her mother would spin the finest colors without knot or breakage, and Dinah was grateful for the help. The coat would be ready sooner if she didn’t have to work alone.
“I can’t imagine why your father needs such an elaborate coat though.” Leah had the yellow green attached to her spindle, and her gaze rested on Dinah as she worked. “Is he doing this to declare that all of his sons are favored?” A look of pleasure lifted the wrinkled corners of her eyes, as if she realized she had figured out Jacob’s intention.
Dinah swallowed, focusing on the red that began to spin beneath her hand. She couldn’t tell Ima the truth, but to lie to her own mother . . . what could she say?
“You do seem distracted of late, Dinah.” Her mother’s brows turned downward again.
Dinah looked up. “What? Oh, I’m sorry, Ima. I was trying to get the thread right.” She paused. “Abba didn’t tell me all of his plans, but your idea is a good one.” It was almost the truth. Though she did know the coat was for Joseph, perhaps she could change her father’s mind and ask him to keep it for himself. So it wasn’t exactly a lie. She smiled at her mother, hoping Leah couldn’t see through her or somehow read her thoughts.
“I think it is one of the best ideas your father has had in a long time. He needs to do something to bridge the rift between his sons, and if he stops favoring Rachel’s children by wearing something like this, it will help a little, I think.” Leah began to whistle a tune. As his wife, she should be able to read his intentions, but Dinah knew that her father had not been spending much time with any of his wives of late. Benjamin and Joseph were with him more than anyone else.
“I hope things go as you say, Ima,” Dinah said. Who knew? Perhaps her mother’s idea would come to pass, if Dinah could find a way to convince her father that it was better than his own.
Jacob welcomed Dinah into his tent after his sons had left to tend his flocks and Joseph was off caring for his estate. She carried the robe he had requested over one arm and let the tent flap fall behind her.
“Dinah, you have finished! Now we can celebrate!”
She came close and stood at his side. “Yes, Abba, it is finished.”
“Let me see it!” He hadn’t been this excited in years.
Dinah opened the robe and held it up in front of her.
Jacob sighed. “Oh, my daughter, you have done magnificent work.”
Dinah’s smile did not reach her eyes.
“Do you not think so?” he asked. Who could understand a woman’s moods? “Let me hold it.” He reached for the coat, dismissing whatever caused her to look so somber on such a delightful day. He would rejoice, as would Joseph.
Dinah handed him the robe and knelt in front of him. “I want to ask you something, Abba.”
He patted the seat beside him, offering her a place to sit. “Something troubles you, Dinah? Please, tell me.”
He waited while she stared at the robe, then looked into his eyes. “I was wondering, Abba, if you would consider keeping this coat for yourself instead of giving it to Joseph.”
Jacob tilted his head, assessing her. “Why would I do that? This is to show your brothers my intended heir. It is something I’ve had in mind for years, yet you would tell me to keep it for myself and not give it to my chosen son?”
Dinah looked about the tent as though she wanted to make sure they were alone. He drew in a breath, holding back his impatience.
“I am fearful of such a coat causing my brothers’ jealousy to grow into hatred for Joseph instead of lifting him up as the leader you intend him to be.” She paused. “But if you wore the coat that is woven with the colors of each of your sons, it would show them that you count all of them equally as yours and do favor them all, not only Joseph.”
A heavy silence fell between them.
“Have you told anyone about my intention?” Jacob asked finally.
“No, Father. No one.” Was she telling him the whole truth?
“This sounds like something Leah would say to me. Tell me, my daughter, that it was not your mother’s idea or at least her assumption.” He folded his hands over the top of his staff and leaned closer.
Dinah glanced toward the tent door. “My mother assumed this, yes. But I thought her assumption wise. It would do much good in our household if the coat is for you.”
Jacob stared at her. All of his emotions and the joy he’d held on to for this day slipped away. He’d looked forward to the moment Joseph’s eyes would light up and the gratitude he knew would come from the boy’s lips . . . and now his daughter would deny him this pleasure? Keep the coat for himself?