The Gate of Heaven by Gilbert Morris Page A

come when the food is ready.” She reached out and touched his cheek in a familiar gesture. “You are tired and weary now, but after you rest, we will want to hear about your journey.” She smiled then and left the room.
    Jacob’s cheek felt as if it were burning where she had touched him. He stared after her and then shook his head. “Never saw anyone like her!” he muttered as he began to wash. He had kept one clean robe in his pack, and after washing as well as he could, he put on the robe and gave in to his weariness. He lay down on the mat and was asleep at once.

    He came out of his sleep with a start, for he found Leah kneeling over him touching his chest. In confusion he put his hand out as if to push her away and found himself shoving against the fullness of her figure. She did not protest but laughed. “Now, sir, you mustn’t take liberties even with a kinswoman.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Jacob muttered, embarrassed. He got to his feet and saw that she had put on another dress of some rather sheer material that outlined her figure plainly.
    She was watching him, and Jacob knew she was aware of his feelings. It clearly did not displease her, however, and she said with an inviting smile, “Come. The meal is ready.”
    Leah led him from the tent across a wide open space, around which were circled several tents. The children stopped their play long enough to stare at the stranger. Leah said, “This way,” and led him inside the largest of the tents.
    Laban and his wife were already seated, and Rachel was bringing food in and putting it down. “Hello,” she said. “You look much better.”
    â€œI feel better, Rachel. I hope I look a little better. Thank you.”
    â€œSit down,” Laban said, motioning to a place.
    Two women began serving the food. They were introduced briefly with a grunt as Bilhah and Zilpah. Bilhah was younger than Rachel and plump and short. She was a mere child, shy and backward. Zilpah, the older of the two, was tall and lean and in her midtwenties. She gave Jacob a careful look as she set a large platter of food down by him.
    Jacob was ravenous, and the food, though plain, tasted as wonderful as any he had ever eaten. There was freshly baked bread, olives, and bowls of thick porridge prepared with sesame oil. There was also plenty of goat’s milk and red wine to satisfy his thirst. As Jacob ate and drank, he noticed that his uncle Laban seemed cowed by his wife. Ziva was indeed an imposing woman. It was almost impossible to guess her age, but as the shepherds had told him, she had come from a desert tribe, and even in her older years, some of that wildness still clung to her.
    Of the two daughters, Rachel spoke the most. She babbled on almost constantly, firing questions at Jacob until finally Leah said, “Rachel, hush, let the man eat. Can’t you see he’s starved?”
    â€œOh, I’m sorry! I do talk too much.”
    â€œNo, you don’t, Rachel,” Jacob assured her. “But this food is so good! Just let me have my fill, and I’ll answer any question you’d like.”
    The mealtime was pleasant and polite, but it was obvious that Laban was suspicious of him. He’s afraid I’ve come to live off of him. I suppose I don’t look like much of a prize, Jacob thought.
    When the meal was over, Leah said, “Why don’t you rest, Jacob, while Rachel and I clean up.”
    â€œThank you. I’m afraid I still feel pretty tired, even after the sleep I had earlier,” Jacob admitted. “Rachel,” he said, looking at the girl, “perhaps we can talk again later and you can ask me any question you want to.”
    â€œOh, that will be fine, Jacob,” Rachel said. “I’ll think up some more while I’m helping my sister.”
    Jacob laughed, got up, and bowed to his hosts. “Thank you, sir, and to you, Ziva, for your