The Gate of Heaven by Gilbert Morris Page B

hospitality.”
    He returned to his own tent and lay down again. With a stomach full of warm food and wine, he went to sleep instantly.

    â€œI think he’s handsome, don’t you, Leah?”
    Leah was cleaning the dishes and turned to give her younger sister a smile. “Yes, I think so.”
    The two girls were very different, but they had different mothers. Ziva had imparted to her daughter her own height and sensuous qualities, as well as the strange-colored eyes and reddish hair. Rachel was barely out of childhood, and had an air of innocence about her.
    Rachel’s mother had been named Lewanna—which meant “the moon.” She had been a beautiful woman. Laban had paid a great price for her, and if he loved anyone, it had been this wife. She had died giving birth to Rachel, and the child had grown up with only whatever affection she could get from Ziva and from her sister, Leah. Actually they were rather fond of the girl, but she still led a lonely life.
    â€œI don’t think he’s married,” Rachel said. “He didn’t say anything about a wife.”
    Leah turned her hazel eyes on the girl and laughed. “You’re starting to think about a husband already? And here you’ve only been a woman for less than three months.”
    Rachel’s fair skin reddened with a blush. “I have a right to think about a husband now, even if I am young! What about you? He’d be a good husband for you…if it weren’t for Mehor.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know about this man either. I don’t know if he could satisfy a woman.”
    Rachel stared at her, not able to grasp her meaning, and then she saw the glint in Leah’s eyes. “Oh,” she said, “I hadn’t thought of that.”
    â€œWell, you’d better start thinking of it. You’ll be sleeping with some man for the rest of your life. Better make sure that he will be a good lover.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? I don’t understand.”
    Leah laughed and put her arm around the girl, looking down at her. “You’re young yet. You’ve got plenty of time to think of such things.”
    Rachel looked up into her sister’s face. Rachel was intensely curious about the details of marriage. Having grown up around animals, she knew only the fundamentals of such things, and now she said, “Tell me how you can know if a man would be a good lover.”
    Leah sat down and pulled the girl beside her. “All right. First of all you have to be sure that he looks at you with something in his eyes.”
    â€œWith what, Leah?”
    â€œHe has to want you like a thirsty man longs for water. You have to see it in his eyes.” Leah continued to speak, and soon they were giggling. They were close friends despite the difference in their ages—more like mother and daughter, really—and Leah had a genuine affection for Rachel. As she spoke, she knew someone had to enlighten the girl, and her mother, Ziva, was not likely to.
    Rachel listened avidly as Leah spoke on. She was in that time of youth when thoughts of love and marriage both drew her and frightened her. A woman was born to be with a man—she knew that much—but which man? And what would happen after the marriage ceremony? Would she be able to please her husband? And how does a girl know about such things? As she pondered her sister’s instruction, she began to think of Jacob in ways she had never before thought of a man.

    Even as the two young women were giggling and talking, Laban was speaking to his two sons, Lomach and Benzar, who had come in late from the fields. They were both dark complected and short and stocky as their mother had been. Laban had been barely out of his teens when he had bargained for the woman, and she in turn had given birth to the boys within two years.
    Now Laban was telling them of Jacob’s arrival, and like their father, they were suspicious of