Wings of Refuge

  When Jake didn’t say anything for a long time, Hannah was astounded to discover that she was jealous—jealous of Devorah, of his loyalty to her, his sensitivity to her feelings. And she was jealous, too, of the unnamed woman who was so attractive she had made Jake question his feelings for Devorah. She wished she were that woman.

  “So what does Devorah look like? Do you carry her picture in your wallet?”

  “Stop it, Hannah. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

  Hannah didn’t know why, but she was suddenly close to tears. “May I have a sip of your water, please,” she said. “Mine’s all gone.” He picked up the canteen and shook it.

  “Better go easy—mine is nearly empty, too.”

  “Great! Then what are we going to do, Mr. Water Engineer? Pray for the wadi to fill up? We’ve been sitting here all day. The stars are coming out already. If you had let me go for help six hours ago, I would have been back by now.”

  “No, you’d still be wandering around lost out there, getting eaten by jackals.”

  “I wouldn’t have gotten lost,” she said haughtily.

  Jake laughed out loud. He laughed long and hard, rolling on his back in the sand.

  “Who are you kidding?” he said, wiping his eyes as he sat up again. “We’re lost right now! We’re way off track, and we have been for most of the day!”

  “If you thought we were lost, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “Because I—” He stopped and looked away from her, biting his lip. Hannah grabbed his chin and yanked his head back, forcing him to look at her.

  “Tell me why, Jake, or admit you’re lying!” He took her wrist and gently pried her hand away, as if wary of her touch.

  “If I tell you, you’ll get mad.”

  “I’m already mad! Tell me why you didn’t speak up if we were lost!”

  Jake stared at his ankle for a moment, then met her gaze. “Because if we were lost, I’d be able to spend more time with you.”

  Hannah fought the urge to smile. “And did you step in that hole so you could spend more time with me, too?”

  “No, that was pure clumsiness.”

  He grinned and she lost the battle to keep a straight face. They both laughed until the tears came. Then, without even thinking, Hannah threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. At first he seemed stunned. He didn’t kiss her back. Hannah feared she had made a fool of herself again. Then she felt his hands rest lightly on her back, and he began kissing her in return.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when they finally pulled apart. “I hope you’re not going to be consumed with guilt now because of me.”

  “Should I be?”

  “I don’t know . . . have you given Devorah an engagement ring?”

  “No . . .”

  “Set a date for the wedding?”

  “No . . .”

  “Picked out any children’s names?”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, if it’s a daughter we thought we’d name her Hannah, after you.” This time it was Jake who moved first, taking Hannah’s face in his hands, kissing her forehead, her eyelids, and finally, her lips. His kisses were even better than she had imagined they would be.

  “Those army guys were right,” he whispered when they paused for air. “That old sprained ankle trick works like a charm.”

  They were in the middle of another laughing fit when Jake suddenly froze. “Listen! Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “Voices. Someone shouting.” He scrambled to his knees and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey! Over here!”

  Hannah waited, holding her breath, until they both heard an answering cry. She saw the flicker of flashlights in the distance.

  “Over here!” Jake yelled again. Hannah’s shoulders sagged.

  “What rotten luck,” she mumbled. “They found us.”

  * * *

  Jake returned from the hospital in Beersheba with a cast on his broken ankle. There would be no more private desert hikes with Hannah. And since he could barely maneuver around their camp on his crutches, she could invent few opportunities to be alone with him. But Hannah got to know Jake very well that summer as they worked together during the day, then gathered with the other team members each night for lively discussions beneath the stars. She had dated a lot of men—her usual criteria being good looks or a good time. But with Jake she saw beyond outward appearances for the first time and discovered character, intelligence, and a heart that was tender toward God.

  While most of the other scientists were secular Jews, Jake was one of the few who took his faith seriously. Once his natural shyness wore off, he engaged the others in passionate debate.

  “If the universe is governed by a set of physical laws, why wouldn’t there be moral laws, too?” he asked the other scientists. “If you hold proof in your hands of the factual truth of Scripture,” he argued with Hannah’s colleagues, “how can you still dismiss all of its spiritual claims?” Each new argument, each new insight into Jake’s heart, made Hannah hungry for more.

  The work they did for Professor Evanari’s Desert Runoff Project was some of the hardest Hannah had ever done. Then the rain fell on the reconstructed Nabatean farm, gathering in the catchment area, flowing down the channels and conduits, nourishing the fields and orchards in the arid valley below, and joy overwhelmed all of them. On the last night of the project, they hugged and danced and celebrated until the early morning hours. But as Hannah watched Jake trying to dance the hora on crutches, her joy was bittersweet. She had kissed him twice. She had never held his hand. There were always dozens of people hovering around them. How could she have fallen so deeply in love with him?

  When the song ended, Jake maneuvered to a folding campstool to rest. Hannah followed him, sitting on the ground cross-legged in front of his outstretched leg. She swallowed the knot of pain in her throat. “Will I ever see you again after tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Israel isn’t a very big country. And I am your cousin’s best friend.” He had tossed out the comment lightly, but his smile seemed strained.

  “Does that mean I’ll be invited to your wedding when you marry Devorah?” she asked.

  Jake closed his eyes and looked away, unable to mask his sorrow.

  “That wouldn’t be wise . . . for you or for me.” After a moment, he leaned forward and took her hand in his, twining their fingers together. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Hannah. You’ve probably guessed that you’re the woman who . . . never mind. It doesn’t matter. Because regardless of what I feel for you, I made a promise—”

  “Stop. You don’t need to say any more. Just my rotten luck to fall for a guy with integrity.”

  “Hannah—”

  “Look, I’ll make this easy for both of us. Good-bye, Jake.” She lifted his hand and kissed the back of it. Then she quickly released it and walked away without looking back. He didn’t follow her. She stayed in her tent the next day until his jeep was gone.

  Back at college that fall, Hannah tried dating other men. Then she tried not dating other men, studying for her classes as if getting straight A’s was a matter of life or death. But she couldn’t forget Jake. She was love-sick, plain and simple. Whenever she saw a tall man with broad shoulders striding down the street, she would run up behind him, shouting, “Jake! Wait!” It was never him. He was probably back on his kibbutz in Galilee by now, with Devorah.

  Finally, on a cold, rainy day in January, Hannah called Ben and invited him to lunch. They both seemed subdued by the gloomy weather as they sat across the table from each other, drinking sweet Arabic tea and eating schwarma. After exhausting every other conceivable subject, she finally asked the question she was dying to ask.

  “So how’s your friend Jake doing these days?” She tried to sound casual, but her shaking voice betrayed her. Ben took a sip of tea before mumbling a reply into his cup.

  “I haven’t seen him around.”

  “But I thought you two were roommates??
??

  “He moved out.”

  Surely Ben knew what Hannah was really asking. Why was he was making this so difficult? “Did he . . . um . . . marry that steady girlfriend of his?”

  “Not yet.” Ben concentrated on his plate, a strange look crossing his features as he nibbled on the loose fillings from his sandwich.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Ben? He was your best friend—why so mysterious all of a sudden? You two have a fight?”

  She had meant it as a joke, but Ben nodded. “Jake isn’t speaking to me.”

  “Why not?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Out with it, Ben . . . or do I have to track down Jake and pry the truth from him?”

  Ben gripped the table edge as if steeling himself, then finally looked up.

  “I’m in love with Devorah.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m in love with my best friend’s fiancee.”

  Hannah wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, but Ben’s face was such a mask of tragedy, she reached across the table for his hand instead. “Oh, Ben! How on earth did that happen?”

  “It’s your fault. Jake was fool enough to confess to Devorah that he had been attracted to you last summer and that he had kissed you—”

  “And she got mad at him?”

  “Furious! Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Jake was devastated to think that he had hurt Devorah . . . and when Devorah wouldn’t speak to him, he begged me to help patch things up between the two of them.”

  “And you fell in love with her.”

  “Hannah, you can’t imagine what a wonderful woman Devorah is. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s so sweet and loving . . . I could talk with her for hours.”

  Hannah remembered Jake saying that he and Devorah had nothing to talk about anymore, and she wanted to scream at the injustice of it.

  “How does Devorah feel about you?”

  “I don’t know. At first I was just a shoulder to cry on. Then we both felt something happening between us. So one night I kissed her and now . . . now she says she’s confused.” Hannah began to laugh. “It really isn’t funny, Hannah.”

  “Oh, poor Ben. I know it isn’t, but—” She lost control, laughing in spite of herself, then her laughter suddenly turned to tears. “I know how you feel, Ben. I’m in love with Jake!”

  “Oy, what a mess,” he mumbled, squeezing her hand. “I love Devorah . . . you love Jake . . . Devorah and Jake can’t decide who they love . . .”

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, wiping her eyes with a napkin.

  “I don’t know. Too bad we can’t just have a big shoot-out, like they do in those American westerns. The winners get to gallop off into the sunset together.” Hannah pictured it in her mind—all four of them in western dress, guns blazing in the streets of some dusty cowboy town. She leaned toward Ben.

  “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

  “No, Jake is a much better shot than I am.”

  “Not with guns, sweetie. Let’s plan a peaceful confrontation—all four of us in one room. No one leaves until Devorah and Jake decide who they’re in love with.”

  Ben looked thoughtful. “You know, that just might work.”

  “And if it doesn’t, you and I can shoot each other and put ourselves out of our misery.”

  They arranged to meet at a sidewalk fish restaurant in Tiberias the following Sunday at two o’clock. It was Ben’s job to think of a way to lure Jake and Devorah there and Hannah’s job to think of something to say once he did.

  Hannah arrived first, nervously gulping down two Cokes while she waited. After three different women approached the restaurant and then passed by on the sidewalk, she realized that not only was she nervous about her competitor, she didn’t even know what Devorah looked like.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ben arrived with her—a petite brunette with a perky nose and impressive curves. She could’ve played the part of a wholesome all-American cheerleader in an Elvis Presley flick. Jake approached from the other direction a moment later, and Hannah’s heart began to hammer. There was no doubt at all in her mind: She was in love with him, every inch of him—from his gorgeous dark head to his no-longer-limping feet.

  Jake looked at all three of them in confusion, then said, “What is this, Ben? What’s going on?”

  “Why don’t we all take a seat,” Hannah said, “and I’ll explain.” Chairs scraped as everyone sat. The atmosphere was so tense as the waiter took their orders that Hannah expected him to throw down his pad and run for cover. When everyone finally had their soft drinks, she cleared her throat.

  “In case you haven’t figured it out, Devorah, I’m Ben’s cousin Hannah. The other woman Jake met last summer. I want to set the record straight—I’m the one who kissed Jake first, not the other way around. He made it very clear that he was committed to you.” Everyone studied their beverages as if car-bonation had just been invented. Hannah cleared her throat again.

  “I’m sorry you found him first, Devorah. He’s an unforgettable guy. I know, because I’ve been trying to forget him for months now, and I haven’t been able to. He’s not only the handsomest guy I’ve ever met, but he’s also a man of integrity and—Ouch!” Hannah rubbed the spot on her shin where Ben had kicked her.

  “And also for the record, my cousin Ben is in love with you. He’s a wonderful guy, too, Devorah—thoughtful, sensitive, funny, loving. I could fall in love with him myself if he wasn’t my cousin. The woman who marries him will be very lucky indeed. So I can see how you might have a tough time choosing between the two of them. But that’s the point, Devorah. You aren’t leaving here until you make up your mind which one you want. And that goes for you, too, Jake. It’s time you both made up your minds. Are you in love with each other or not? I think Ben and I have a right to know.”

  For a long time, no one moved. Hannah was aware of cars rushing past, people hurrying down the sidewalk . . . but for her, time seemed suspended. She wanted to scream. Then Devorah finally looked up from her drink. Her eyes traveled from one man to the other for what seemed another eternity. When Devorah rested her hand on Jake’s arm, Hannah’s heart stood still.

  “Oh, Jake, honey . . . I understand how you might have been attracted to . . . her. Can you ever forgive me? I’m so sorry. I . . . I never meant to fall in love with Ben.” She slipped her arm through Ben’s and leaned against his shoulder. He closed his eyes in joy.

  Hannah’s gaze never left Jake’s face, waiting . . . for what? Tears? A burst of anger? Maybe a fistfight? But after another eternity of waiting, his face slowly split into a grin. He began to laugh as he had the day they were lost on the mountain. No one joined him. Ben looked very pale.

  “This is absolutely unbelievable!” Jake said at last. “I’ve been eating my heart out for the last five months—worried about the way I hurt Devorah, upset about losing my best friend, heartsick with love for you, Hannah . . . and it was all for nothing!”

  Heartsick with love.

  Hannah didn’t need to hear more. Her chair toppled as she scrambled to her feet.

  “Watch, Devorah. I’ll show you exactly what I did.” She threw her arms around Jake’s neck and kissed him on the lips, right in the middle of the fish restaurant on the main street of Tiberias, in broad daylight.

  Four months later she became Mrs. Jacob Rahov.

  CHAPTER 7

  WEST JERUSALEM, ISRAEL—MAY 16, 1967

  Turn off the radio, Hannah,” Jake said quietly. “We’ve heard enough bad news for one night.”

  He sat cross-legged on the floor of their apartment with two-year-old Rachel on his lap, their dark, perfect heads bent over a picture book. They looked so beautiful together, so content, that a shudder rocked through Hannah as she thought of the radio announcer’s words.

  “I’ll turn it off in a minute. I want to hear what the United Nations plans to do.”

  “We’ll know soon enough. Please, Hannah.” She switched it
off. The sound of Jake’s calm voice replaced the crackling static and urgent bulletins as he pointed to objects in the book and asked, “What’s that, Rachel?”

  “Kitty,” she replied.

  “Very good. And what are those?”

  “Birdies!” The birds were her favorites. She and Jake walked to the park every day to feed them. But Hannah knew that if the United Nations gave in to Egypt’s threats, if they withdrew their peace-keeping forces from the Sinai three days from now, there would be no more walks to the park. There would be war.

  “Jake . . . I’m scared.”

  “Come here, love.” He reached for her hand and pulled her down to the floor beside him.

  “I know what you’re going to tell me,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. “I need to trust in God’s unfailing love.” Jake had reminded her of those words often since Rachel’s birth two years ago. Hannah had wanted to clutch her beautiful newborn tightly, protect her from every threat, never let her out of her sight.

  “Her life is a gift from God,” Jake told her. “Whatever happens, we can trust Him with it because His love reaches to the heavens, His faithfulness to the skies. And that’s a very long way.”

  Hannah had learned the morning prayers from Jake. They recited them together before they began each day: “‘How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.’” But it hadn’t been easy for Hannah to lay aside her stubborn self-sufficiency and surrender control to God. It had taken six years of marriage for her to get over her fear of losing Jake each time he left for work or when he went away for his yearly military exercises with the reserves. This current crisis reminded her of the fragility of everything she cherished.

  “It’s a lot easier to trust God in peacetime,” she told him. “But if there is going to be a war . . . Jake, we’re surrounded by enemies who are committed to our destruction. I don’t think Nasser is just mouthing vague threats this time. He intends to destroy Israel. I’ve never had to take refuge beneath God’s wings when there were bombs falling all around me.”