“Thank you, my lord. I am most honored to serve you in this way.” He bowed low again to show his understanding that Potiphar still ruled the household whether Joseph was in charge of things or not.
“Good,” Potiphar said, tenting his hands. “You will start tomorrow. And from now on you will sleep in a room in the house where the household servants sleep, rather than with the field-workers. I’ve had the room prepared for you.” He clapped his hands, and a servant appeared. “Take Joseph to the room I have set aside for him.” Potiphar looked once more into Joseph’s eyes. “Continue to work as you have done, and you will do well in my household. Egypt will be blessed because of you.”
Joseph dipped his head in a nod. “Thank you, my lord. I am pleased to serve you.” He followed the servant to his new sleeping quarters. The room was spacious, like nothing he had seen before, with a raised bed and table and a clay lamp. There were scrolls in niches along the walls, apparently for Joseph to read at his leisure, should he have any. He could work and sleep here if he so chose, but he would work in the area already assigned to him.
The servant left him, and he lay on the cushioned bed and put his hands behind his head. He glanced at the wall where more tunics and an ornamented robe were displayed on pegs. The robe could not match the one his father had given him, but the sight of it brought the memory sharply into focus. He closed his eyes, acutely missing his father, unable to stop the sudden sting of tears.
He would avoid that robe if he could. A simple robe was less of a distraction, but if Potiphar demanded it, he would obey. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling and wished for a view of the stars instead. He knew God was with him, and perhaps one day God would right the wrongs done to him. One day he would be free of the memories he could not shake. For now, he would be grateful to have Potiphar’s trust and hopefully Hamid’s friendship. He could be happy here. Couldn’t he?
But a part of him knew better than to believe that. Nothing could make him care for this land as he did his father’s camp. If God allowed him to leave this place, he had no doubt that he would take the fastest way home.
16
CANAAN
Judah wrapped his cloak about him and left his tent. Kaella greeted him and offered him flatbread, cheese, and dates to break his morning fast. “How are you this day, my husband?” she asked, sitting beside him in their small compound.
“I slept well with you by my side,” he answered, smiling into her beautiful eyes.
She looked shyly away, her cheeks flushing dark.
“Don’t tell me you are still embarrassed by my compliments after more than a year of marriage?” He took a bite of flatbread, some of the best he’d ever tasted.
She shook her head. “It’s not that.” She took his hand, her smile growing. “It is just that I have news for you, and I hope you will like it.”
A soft glow seemed to surround her as she spoke, and he tilted his head, giving her a quizzical look. “Tell me.”
“I am with child.” Her smile widened, and her delightful laugh filled the area.
“With child?” Judah stared a moment, then stood and lifted her in his arms. “How could I be anything but delighted?”
Her look held joy, but then her expression suddenly sobered, surprising him. “The men in my village prefer sons over daughters.” She glanced beyond him as if remembering something painful. Had she felt unwanted because she was female? “Sometimes they sacrifice the girls and spare the boys. Sometimes, when times are hard or fear of famine strikes, they choose a boy.” She looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to sacrifice our children, boy or girl.”
“Never!” he fairly shouted, then lowered his voice. “Our God does not condone the sacrifice of children. I promise you, this will not be the fate of our sons and daughters.”
Her smile returned. “Thank you. I would give you both—if the gods allow. Perhaps we will have both at once. Twins are not uncommon in my family.”
He kissed her nose and ignored her reference to the gods, thinking how blessed indeed he would be to have two children at once. He hoped that someday Kaella would embrace the God of Israel. He just had to give her time. After all, he hadn’t been one to insist she believe in someone he wasn’t sure he believed in himself.
They sat again, and he chewed the flatbread, watching her as she ate. “When are we to expect this little one?” Surely she suspected a time for the birth. His mother had always known these things.
She looked at the cheese in her hand, then met his gaze. “I suspect in about six months. At least that is what my mother has told me.”
He nodded. He knew little of the ways of women except that his mother had continually carried a new child and gave birth to one after another. Would Kaella do the same? How many children might she bear? His mother had stopped bearing after four, then began again. But he could not imagine himself the parent of twelve sons or even six sons and a daughter, as his father and mother were.
“I’m going to be in the eastern pasture today,” he told her, tucking the rest of his food into a pouch at his side. He would eat it along with the food already there at the midday meal. “I will be home tonight.” He kissed her cheek.
“I will have your supper waiting when you come,” she said, walking with him toward the sheep pens.
When Hirah appeared, she backed away and let him go. Judah nodded her way, and she smiled her farewell. He wondered why Kaella always shied away when Hirah drew near, but he did not question her behavior. His wife was shy with many people, and likely she preferred the company of her mother and sisters over that of men, whether she or her father knew them or not.
“Ready to go?” Hirah asked as he opened the gate and began calling the sheep. He glanced at Kaella’s retreating back and gave Judah a knowing look. “She pleases you, I see.” His smile warmed Judah.
“She is with child.”
Hirah’s eyes widened. He clapped Judah on the shoulder and laughed outright. “At last! May the gods give you many sons by her, my friend.”
“Thank you, Hirah. I, too, wish for many sons, though not as many as my father has!” He chuckled, and Hirah joined him.
“Perhaps five or six would be enough for such a man as you.” He encouraged a straggling lamb to follow the others, and Judah prodded one of the goats with his staff.
They walked toward the eastern pasture while Judah pondered Hirah’s words and Kaella’s news. A father. He was going to be a father now. Perhaps having his own children would better help him to forget his brothers, particularly one. But as he watched the goats graze along the crags of the hilly land, he could not stop the images of his brothers doing this very work. And the cries of Joseph still called to him as if from beyond the grave.
EGYPT
Joseph stood on the highest step of the portico, taking in the vast length of Potiphar’s land. How many years had it taken this man to rise to such a level of wealth? Or did he inherit these lands from his father, as Joseph would have inherited his father’s wealth and blessing one day?
The image of his father passed before his mind’s eye, and he blinked, forcing the memories to wait. He would think about his father another day. The more he shoved the memories aside, the better.