“Let me see her,” he said, gently pushing Dinah aside. He stepped closer to the body, which looked so peaceful, as if Leah were sleeping. “Leave me a moment,” he told the women.
When at last he was alone with Leah, he knelt beside her. “Ah, Leah. I never did treat you as you deserved. You gave me fine sons, but I never told you so. You wanted my love, but I couldn’t share it with you because of Rachel, and even after she was gone, I couldn’t be what you needed. I wish I could have. I wish I had told you how sorry I am before now.”
Could the dead hear? Some thought their spirits lingered a moment, but Leah may have died in the night. He had no way of knowing whether she could still catch what he should have said so long ago.
A single tear slipped down one cheek, and he brushed it away. “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered as he stood to gaze on her one last time. He must tell her sons so they could build the bier and make the trek to Machpelah. If only it could have been him instead of her.
CANAAN
Tamar rose before dawn, a practice she had fallen into since returning to her father’s house. She longed to stay abed and forget her troubles in sleep, but it eluded her after only a few hours. She told herself that she was used to feeling weary. How else was a widow to feel?
Her widow’s clothing hung on a peg on the wall beside her bed. With all the time she’d already been forced to wear the drab robes and tunics, she had indulged in making more than one set. Something her father had paid for despite his displeasure with her situation.
She washed with the tepid water left over from the night before, then chose the cleanest garments and dressed. If she hurried, she could get to the well by sunup and perhaps miss the women who had never quite accepted her since her return. Talliya, her best friend, often met her at such times, and today Tamar hoped she would be waiting.
The water jar rested on the floor near the door of the house. Movement in the house told her the family was awakening, so she snatched it up and slipped quietly into the predawn darkness.
Birdsong had yet to break the quiet, the only sounds being the crunch of earth and stones and a few twigs beneath her feet. She knew the path well and wasted no time in making her way toward the town where the well stood at its center.
Pink light crested the eastern ridge of sky as she approached, and she squinted at a lone figure standing near the well. Talliya had not failed her. How she needed to see this friend once more. They had lost touch when Talliya had moved away with her husband, but after her father died, her husband had returned with their family to take over his estate. Tamar found some small relief in knowing she had one friend in the world besides her sister.
“There you are.” Talliya came close, her tone soft so as not to awaken the town, which still lay in shadow. “I hoped you would be here early before the others came.” Her eyes were alight with news, and Tamar gave her a curious look.
“What have you heard? Surely you have something to tell me.” Tamar set her jar in the dirt and hugged her friend. “At least I know from you the news can be trusted.”
Talliya hugged her in return, and the two laughed softly together. “I am so glad we moved back here. I have missed you so.”
“And I you. But now you must tell me lest I burst with curiosity!” Tamar rarely cared what went on in the world around her. What did it matter to her, a widow with no one to claim her? But if Talliya thought the news would interest her, it must be important. Might Judah be sending someone even now to wed her to Shelah?
“Your father-in-law is going up to Timnah to shear his sheep,” Talliya said. “He’s taking his friend Hirah the Adullamite with him.”
Tamar took a step back, surprised at her disappointment, and studied her friend. “But this is old news, my friend. I heard it a few days ago. You did not know before?”
Talliya nodded. “Yes. I had heard, but last night Hirah came to our house and told Danel. He invited him to join them because it is a festive time.”
“Is Danel going with them?” She thought again that she must use this information, but how?
Talliya shook her head. “Danel has our own sheep to shear, and to mix them together with Judah’s many flocks would cause confusion. Besides, after what Judah has done to you, neither one of us likes the man overmuch.”
Tamar’s expression softened. “Thank you. I try not to bear hard feelings against him, but he has obviously decided that he is not willing to give me to Shelah. And he has not attempted to visit my father to end our contract, so he seems not to care what happens to me. He would keep me a widow the rest of my days.”
“You don’t sound terribly bitter,” Talliya said, smiling. She picked up her jar, tied it to the rope, and lowered it into the well.
“Only a little, I suppose.” Tamar picked up her jar as well, waiting her turn. She wanted to be home by the time the other women arrived. “I thank you for confirming this information. Though I don’t know what I can possibly do with it.”
“Perhaps there is a way you can confront Judah on his way to Timnah. He won’t visit your father, and you can’t go alone to his camp. But you could meet him on the road. I could go with you if you want me to. If Danel allows it.” Talliya placed a comforting hand on Tamar’s shoulder. “I will do anything I can to help you, my friend.”
A sudden rush of emotion filled Tamar, but she held it back and smiled. “I know you would. Thank you for the offer, but I would not ask you to enter into my struggles. It is enough that you are here to talk to now and then.”
“Let’s make it every morning instead of only now and then.” Talliya’s plain face wreathed in a wide smile, and her dark eyes twinkled in the dawn’s glowing light. Sounds of merchants opening their shops and voices of women rousing their children could be heard in the distance.
“Every morning sounds wonderful.” Tamar’s heart felt lighter at the thought. “But if you do not see me, do not fear. You have given me much to think about. Perhaps confronting Judah on his way to Timnah is a wise idea. I just don’t think he will listen to me.”
“Perhaps not. But with Hirah there, you will have a witness against Judah for neglecting you. I wish your father would do something.” Talliya placed the jar on her shoulder and held it with one hand.
Tamar did the same after pulling her jar from the well. “As do I,” she said. “But I know he won’t. It is a matter of pride, I guess. Perhaps my father thinks the gossips are right. Maybe I am to blame for the deaths of Judah’s sons.”
Talliya scowled. “Don’t say such a thing. You are a good person, Tamar. Everyone knows it. And everyone also knows that Judah’s oldest sons were foolish, immature boys. They died because of their own sins against their father’s god, not yours.”
Tamar offered Talliya a slight nod and pondered her friend’s words. She had thought of little else for two years and truly could not see how she could be to blame for Er’s and Onan’s deaths. “In any case, I will give your suggestion some thought. If I do nothing, I will remain as I am until I die. And that does not sound appealing.”
They parted ways as some of the women from town approached the well.
“Until tomorrow then,” Tamar said as she turned toward home.