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Jacob was the first to leave the office that evening, barely waiting for the clock to tick its final second. He knew that, as a salary employee, he would be able to make up the time on a later date. He almost felt that he needed to use a vacation day to replace the time he’d spent distracted. Maybe this could even count as a sick day as terrible as his stomach was churning because of what he was about to do.
 
He peeled out of the parking lot without bothering to lower the top on his convertible, which was something he almost always did before driving back to the resort. He left the radio off. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He tried not to even think. The car knew the way home.
 
After parking in the front lot that was designated for guests rather than residents, Jacob hurried inside, past the front desk to the offices where his true love sat at her desk with a patient expression as if she’d been waiting for him.
 
Dropping to his knees beside her chair, Jacob rested his head on her lap and said the only thing he could choke out in that moment. “I love you, Rachel.”
 
“I know, Jacob.” She rested her hand on his head and ran her fingers through his hair, finally whispering words she would likely regret. “I love you, too.”
 
“I can’t do this without you.” Now understanding what God was asking him to do, he couldn’t fathom how he was going to go through with this.
 
“Yes, you can.” Her tone was indifferent and monotone. Even though she was the first of them to see the vision, she couldn’t possibly be happy about God’s plan for their future.
 
“I don’t want to do this without you.”
 
“You don’t really have a choice, do you?”
 
Jacob lifted his head from her lap and met her gaze. “We all have a choice. God gives us the free agency to choose.”
 
“And what will you choose, Jacob?” Rachel’s words were poignant.
 
“You already know what I will choose.” He lowered his eyes in shame, dreading the next steps in this course for his life. God was asking him to marry four women. Four! There was nothing that was okay about that. He wanted to crawl into a cave and escape the world rather than take upon himself this task.
 
Rachel lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her again, then she rested her hand against his cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t realized had fallen.
 
“Rachel, do you understand each of the choices I must make?” He feared her answer, but she just nodded with solemnity.
 
“Yes, Jacob, I know it all.” Her words were clipped and frustrated. “You know I do.”
 
“And you don’t mind?”
 
“Of course, I mind,” she said. “How could I not?”
 
This trial of faith was extraordinary. Not only was Rachel being asked to step aside and let her sister marry Jacob, but she was also being asked to marry him one week later. And then a few months later welcome two other women into their family. Granted, Bilhah and Zilpah were already like family but that didn’t make the situation any easier.
 
“I want this to be you,” Jacob whispered.
 
“No.” Rachel shook her head. “You need to give your whole heart to my sister.”
 
“How can I do that when half my heart belongs to you?” His frustration bordered on anger.
 
“Promise me something,” Rachel said, ignoring his tantrum.
 
“Anything, my love.”
 
“Let it be her.”
 
“What do you mean?” He sat back on his heels, already suspecting he knew her answer.
 
“Don’t pretend it’s me.”
 
Jacob tried to force his heart to expand and accept her request. “Have you talked to Leah yet? Explained everything?”
 
“Yeah, I talked to her and my father,” Rachel said.
 
“I bet he’s livid.”
 
“He has stronger faith than you’d expect. I think he’ll surprise you.”
 
He almost choked out his next question, “Where can I find him?”
 
“Take the elevator to the top floor. His penthouse suite of offices will be on your right.”
 
“Okay.” Jacob stood and took a step back, his heart breaking as he backed away from her. As he turned to leave, she called out to him one last time.
 
“Jacob?” He turned to meet Rachel’s gaze. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
 
He nodded once and gulped, knowing he wouldn’t have that same luxury. While Rachel was waiting for him, he was expected to give himself to her sister. He choked back emotions and headed for the elevator.
 
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Jacob replayed in his mind what Rachel had said after praying the night before. You’re going to marry my sister. Not exactly the answer he was expecting, but not surprising.
 
He spent the following day trying to concentrate on his new job and failing miserably. So far, he’d watched countless training videos, poured over schematics and hydrology maps, and read textbook-style material that was a recap of what he’d already learned about the Southeastern Anatolia Project. The history, the strategic goals, the effects on society, the economic development. He wished they would just give him a test on the material and let him get to work.
 
He’d been hired to participate on the project for regulation of water in irrigation canals and methods and technologies for water saving. With so many facets of society needing diversion of water, there was a strong focus on reuse of irrigation discharge water, protecting the soil from erosion, and micro-catchment rehabilitation.
 
As excited as Jacob was to be taken on tours of the dams and hydroelectric power stations dotted throughout the Tigris and Euphrates River basins, and to get started with strategic planning of seventeen thousand acres of land, all he could think about were Rachel’s words from the night before.
 
You’re going to marry my sister.
 
How could she possibly know that? Jacob didn’t usually question God’s direction, but he’d been too stunned to even ask God about Rachel’s vision.
 
Marry Leah? He shrugged. The idea wasn’t unappealing. He really enjoyed Leah’s company. But he’d been so focused on his budding relationship with Rachel that marrying her twin sister hadn’t even occurred to him. At least not since they’d made a joke in the elevator about which one of them was willing to give birth to thirteen children.
 
Jacob stood suddenly from his desk, startling one of his co-workers. “I need to take an early break. Is there someplace I could go for a walk or sit in a solarium or something?”
 
“Uh, sure.” His co-worker and new friend Emre stood and approached Jacob. “I’ll show you the indoor gardens. There’s a path you can walk and sitting areas for contemplation and reflection. Do you need a prayer mat or anything?” Emre glanced at his watch with a creased brow. If Jacob was Muslim, this would not have been considered a time for devotions.
 
“That won’t be necessary, but thank you. I just need to be alone.” Jacob followed his new friend, grateful that he’d found someone who recognized the panic in his countenance.
 
As they approached the indoor garden and Emre opened the door, Jacob felt the comfort of moist heat replacing the air-conditioned building and took a deep breath.
 
“Is there any other way I can be of assistance?” Emre asked.
 
“Could you point me in the direction of the farthest corner away from where I might be disturbed from my meditation?”
 
“Yes, follow the path to the right.” Emre pointed.
 
As if a virtual-reality overlay had draped across the garden, Jacob saw that at the end of the path there was a little bench that would be perfect for a heart-to-heart with God. “Thank you,” Jacob mumbled as he strode with purpose down the path.
 
Before he even reached the end of the brick pathway, he started talking out loud, hoping there was no one else nearby. He hadn’t seen a soul since entering the garden. “God, what is going on? I’m terribly confused, and that’s not a normal feeling for me. You have been showing me where to go and what to do for so many years that I’m not even sure how to make my own decisions anymore. Have I relied on you too much?”
 
He stopped talking as he approached the bench and sat down hard, staring off into the tall plants and grasses but hearing nothing. His impatience was disconcerting.
 
Finally, he rose from the bench and lowered to his knees, wishing he’d accepted the proffered prayer mat. He’d have to remember that for the future. Maybe a little pain in his knees was something helpful in order to hear God’s whisperings. He remembered the teachings of his youth. Weaken the body to strengthen the spirit. He needed influences from God’s Spirit right now and was willing to do just about anything to receive his guidance.
 
“God, I’m sorry for my frustration and confusion,” Jacob started again, then fought a catch in his throat, fearing an onslaught of tears as he wrestled with God. God always won. Why did he even try? “I will be patient. I will wait as long as you need me to wait. I will do what you want me to do and go where you want me to go. Have I not done so thus far?”
 
You have, my son.
 
“Oh, thank you, God. Forgive me of my fear and doubt. I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
 
You are never alone.
 
Jacob lost his control at that declaration and sobbed, laying his forehead onto his adjoined hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
 
There is work to be done.
 
“Here am I, Father. What would you have me do?”
 
You already know what you need to do.
 
“That can’t be, Father.”
 
Are you questioning my direction after you have just promised to follow me?
 
“Forgive me, Father. This has never been done before.”
 
You have never been more wrong, my son.
 
Jacob sat back on his heels, staring off into the corner of the indoor garden. But instead of plants and glass enclosures and the desert beyond, he saw concourses of people as far as his eyes could see.
 
When I am ready to build up my kingdom, I always provide a way.
 
“How would you have me assist in your plan, father?”
 
Line upon line, precept upon precept, my son. You will be shown the proper order as each task presents itself. I have faith in you. Now go, and doubt not further. There is work to be done.
 
“Thank you, Father.” Jacob received no other directions as he sat on his knees, seeing only plants and a glass enclosure protecting him from the blazing desert beyond.
 
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“I can’t wait to go to bed tonight,” Rachel said, swinging their arms between them while she clutched Jacob’s hand in hers. Once again, she was walking him back to his apartment, even though he was sure he could find his way home now that he’d lived at the resort almost a week.
 
“Why is that, darling?” Over the course of the past few days he’d shared a meal with Rachel and Leah and Bilhah and Zilpah, taking the time each evening to learn more about them, their hopes and dreams, and wishes for their futures. Jacob knew if he was going to lead this little flock, he needed to know them.
 
“Because before I go to bed, I have a chance to pray.”
 
Jacob fought a chuckle. “You can pray any time of day. You don’t have to wait for bedtime.”
 
“Well, I know you always pray over our meal, but…” Rachel hesitated. “When I pray before bed, I’m on my knees, and I can talk to God as long as I want. At least, until I’m too tired, and then I climb into bed.”
 
A vision popped into Jacob’s head about the two of them praying together before climbing into bed. Their relationship was too early to talk seriously about marriage, but they could fulfill part of that vision now. “We could pray together… if you’d like.”
 
“Just me and you?” Her face lit up with hope.
 
“Yeah, on our knees. Holding hands.”
 
“I love holding your hands.” As if to confirm her statement, she gave his hand a little squeeze.
 
Jacob realized they were at the door to his apartment, and he pulled the key from his pocket. “Would you like to come in for a few minutes? Is that appropriate in your culture?”
 
“Probably not.” Rachel shrugged. “But I can’t think of a more righteous reason to ignore that rule.”
 
He unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch as they stepped inside. The spacious living room was modern and inviting, with a flat screen television and a balcony overlooking the courtyard. He left Rachel beside the door as he strode across the room and pulled the door to his bedroom shut, as if sending both of them the clear message that the bedroom was off limits. Some rules weren’t meant to be broken, and that was one of them.
 
After returning to the door, Jacob offered Rachel his hand, and she placed hers in his with a contented sigh, then followed him into the living room. He helped her to her knees, knelt in front of her, and clasped both of her hands in his.
 
“Rachel, my darling,” he said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever prayed with someone before. Not like this.”
 
“I know that I never have,” she whispered back. “I don’t even know where to start.”
 
“Yes, you do,” he prodded. “You speak to God every night, don’t you?”
 
“Yes, but that’s by myself.” Her eyes were wide with panic.
 
“If you’re not ready for this, I understand.” Jacob gave both her hands a gentle squeeze. Just because he had a vision of them praying together didn’t mean she’d had that same vision. She’d probably never had a vision in her life.
 
“No, I mean, yes. I mean, I want to be ready.”
 
“Then just speak from your heart,” Jacob suggested. “Talk to God as if I’m not even here.”
 
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
 
As much as Jacob wanted to join her in prayer, he couldn’t bring himself to stop gazing at this beautiful woman kneeling before him. Her silky brown hair draped around her shoulders with the heaviness that only comes from healthy natural strands. He longed to hold a lock of her hair, allowing the softness to slide through his fingers. Instead, he just stared.
 
“Hello, God, it’s Rachel again. I guess you know that already, don’t you? I’m here with Jacob, your faithful servant.”
 
Jacob was taken aback by her calling him God’s faithful servant. He inwardly shrugged, sensing that wasn’t a bad way to describe himself.
 
“God, I have chosen to follow this good man, and I ask that you would guide him so that he will be able to guide me.”
 
Follow him? She said she had chosen to follow him. That was news to Jacob. He continued to listen as Rachel poured out her heart to God.
 
“I will never doubt Jacob’s leadership, God, but I’d love for you to provide me with a vision of what is to come. I promise to put my whole faith and trust in whatever you show me. I will follow Jacob as he follows you.”
 
With that, Rachel stopped talking and waited, presumably listening for the promptings of the Spirit, maybe even expecting to see an actual vision. Who was he to doubt God’s power in this matter? He waited, holding his breath almost, wondering what she was seeing or hearing.
 
Suddenly Rachel lifted her head and glared at Jacob in horror. Then she released his hands as if she’d been holding poisonous snakes and scrambled to get away from him, springing to her feet as fast as she could get away. When she finally looked back at Jacob as he remained on his knees, there were tears streaming down her face. The words she spat at him were filled with hurt and jealousy.
 
“You’re going to marry my sister.”


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“I want to hear more about your visions from God,” Zilpah said after they’d given their orders to the server and set aside their menus. “Or are they too intimate to share?”

The dining room was set with elegant tablecloths and fine dishes of glazed pottery. There were candles lit throughout the room and the ambiance was more romantic than Jacob had ever known. Mostly he ate with his parents or in a cafeteria at the university. Sitting at the head of a table surrounded by four of the most beautiful women he’d ever met was a new experience.

He took a drink of ice water and tried to decide how best to frame an answer. “Well… I guess… they are quite intimate. But if you think you can handle some pretty spiritual topics, I’m willing to share them with you.”

All four girls nodded with enthusiasm.

“We would really love to know more,” Bilhah said with a smile. She had a youthful countenance, almost playful. The other three women were exotic beauties with caramel skin and flowing, dark hair. Bilhah was lighter skinned and had freckles.

Jacob realized he’d been gazing at Bilhah too long and cleared his throat, looking down at the table in front of him as if that alone could shake away his unease. A warmth surrounded his heart, and he wondered if he could carry on the remainder of the conversation with his eyes drawn to his plate.

“Well, my most recent vision happened just a few days ago while I was visiting my grandfather in Bethel.” He chanced a look up at his little captive audience and met each of their gazes briefly. “I saw a ladder… extending up to heaven.”

“That must have been a really long ladder.” Zilpah’s voice held awe and complete trust. She wasn’t mocking him, and he appreciated that. Her greenish gold eyes sparkled in the light from the candles, and Jacob almost couldn’t stop staring at her.

“It was. I couldn’t see the top of the ladder, but I knew the angels who were using the ladder were descending from and ascending to heaven.”

 “You saw angels also?” Leah’s soft expression was filled with hope, as if she’d always wanted to know if angels were real. Jacob answered her unspoken question.

“Yes, angels are real, and they were right in front of me.”

“Did they speak to you?” Rachel asked, leaning forward with excitement. Jacob was reminded of their conversation the previous evening and understood that Rachel desperately wanted to hear God’s messages.

“Not really, no.” Jacob shook his head in contemplation. “I don’t remember them saying anything, just that I knew I was seeing the gate of heaven. And I knew that the rungs of the ladder represented the covenants I make with God.”

“That is the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard,” Rachel whispered.

Jacob boldly took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, again desiring to kiss this extraordinary woman. “I must say, this has been a cherished conversation.” He glanced up and met the gaze of each woman in turn. “Most people mock my visions and promptings, calling me a kook or a visionary man.”

“You are… a visionary man, I mean,” Leah said with awe. “In a really, really good way.”

“Thank you.” Jacob gulped and glanced again at his place setting and then at his hand that was still adjoined to Rachel’s. “I hope you don’t all run screaming to find someone who will lock me in a mental institution and throw away the key.”

Rachel clasped Jacob’s hand just a little tighter. “I plan to spend some time on my knees this evening, asking God to help me understand your vision of this ladder that reaches to heaven.”

“Me too,” Leah said. The other two nodded, with faith and hope in their countenance.
The spell around the table was broken by a server placing dishes of food before them. When they had all been served and before any of them had taken a bite, Jacob took a hold of Leah’s hand with his free one, then glanced over at Bilhah and Zilpah, indicating they should join hands around the table, then he bowed his head.

“Thank you, God, for this bountiful meal that you have placed before us. Please bless the food to be nourishing for our bodies, and please bless the hands that prepared it. We thank you for this time that we have to share this meal and ask that your Spirit will attend us and enlighten us. Please guide our path and help us to see your will for our lives. Amen.”

“Amen,” the ladies each echoed.
​
As he picked up his fork, a thought occurred to Jacob. In his prayer he had asked God to guide their path. Singular. As if the five of them were on the same path. He knew, in that moment, that he had been brought to this place at this time to lead these four choice daughters of God in the path they should follow. He felt the weight of that responsibility and added one additional silent prayer. God, help me to lead them in righteousness. 

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“Jacob!” Rachel called to him as he walked through the resort lobby after his first workday. He turned and found her in an office near the front desk. She hurried out of her chair and practically skipped to the door. Lifting onto her toes, she kissed him on the cheek and gushed in a happy voice, “I heard an answer from God!”

“You did?” Jacob took both of her hands in his, excitement filling his heart. “What did he say?”

She pulled him over to some waiting room chairs near her office suite. “Well, he didn’t exactly say anything. More that I could just feel that he was listening.”

“That is wonderful, darling.” Jacob squeezed her hands, wishing he’d known her long enough to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He was pushing his luck, holding her hands and calling her darling. “I’m so happy for you.” Happy for us, he echoed in his head. That thought came out of nowhere, but he’d learned to trust random thoughts.

They were interrupted by three smiling and laughing women, including Rachel’s twin. Jacob stood as they approached but kept one of his hands clasped with Rachel’s.

“Jacob.” Leah seemed pleasantly surprised. “How nice to see you again.”

“I live here now, you know.” He nodded politely. “You’re stuck with me.”

Leah giggled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Why did that elicit a reaction deep in Jacob’s heart?

Rachel squeezed his hand lightly as she stood and held out her arm to introduce the other two women. “These are our friends, and administrative assistants, Bilhah and Zilpah.”

“I hear you are the only two employees here at the resort who can tell these lovely twins apart,” Jacob said, reaching out his hand. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance.”

That same comforting warmth traveled up Jacob’s arm when he clasped each of their hands, and he wondered what it was about this resort that gave him such a visceral response. Perhaps the proximity to the hot springs. He decided to make it a point to shake as many people’s hands as possible and see if that happened with everyone.

Both women seemed to experience the same spark as the twins had, and their confusion was clear when they glanced at one another and shook out their arms as if they’d been shocked. Although Jacob thought of it as a warm, fuzzy kind of shock, it was still disconcerting.

“You were right,” Zilpah told one or both of the twins. “Jacob is a… unique man.”

“Glad you didn’t call me strange as Rachel does,” Jacob teased.

“Have I have ever actually called you strange?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did.”

“Unique is far more polite,” she acknowledged.

They all chuckled nervously and looked around at each other sheepishly.

“We were just about to go get some dinner,” Leah said. “Would you like to join us? Have you eaten already?”

“I am famished, and I would be honored to escort you ladies to a meal together.”

“We’d be honored to have you dine with us,” Bilhah said. “These two haven’t shut up about you all day. Zilpah and I have been dying to meet you and see what all the hype is about.”

“Really?” Jacob grinned at Rachel and then Leah. “Haven’t shut up, huh?”

“Well, it’s not every day that a hot guy from Israel moves here,” Zilpah said. “If you hadn’t already pledged your love to Rachel, we’d all be scrambling for your attention.”

“As it is, we are content to help Rachel plan your wedding,” Bilhah added.

“Ah, so we spend one hour together in a car, and she’s already planning our wedding?” Jacob tucked Rachel’s hand into the crook of his arm and winked at her.

“Gotta get married soon if we’re gonna start making those babies, right?” Rachel winked back. She tugged him gently out of the office suite and into the lobby.

“Definitely can’t start making babies until we’re married.” Jacob was quite certain about that. He knew God’s commandments about staying chaste before marriage. That was one path he was determined to follow.

“Is it true that you’re, like, a prophet or something?” Zilpah asked as they made their way toward the formal restaurant. The closer they got, the more Jacob’s body responded to the delectable aromas and the opportunity for deep conversation.

“Yeah, did you really tell Rachel you were going to marry her before you even knew her name?”

Jacob chuckled nervously. “Did I? Huh? Kind of thought I knew your name first.” He looked down at Rachel and smiled. “You’ll have a new name when you become my queen anyway, right?”

“Right,” Rachel whispered. There were almost tears in her eyes, and her smile was brilliant in its simplicity.

He wished he could just kiss her and get it over with. Not with this many people surrounding them. He’d never kissed a girl and had no idea how to go about doing that. But he knew he wasn’t going to allow himself to be that vulnerable in front of anyone except his future wife.
​
Jacob held Rachel’s gaze for a few seconds longer than was socially acceptable while walking down a hall in the company of others. He knew instinctively that his life was about to change.


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NOTE TO NEWSLETTER SUBSCRIBERS: the link I sent you is CORRECT. The text in the body of the email was from Chapter Six. Sorry! Just for you, I'm going to post Chapter Six today. See below Chapter Five...

Chapter Five:
“You were quiet at dinner,” Rachel said with compassion as they walked from the restaurant back to his apartment. Jacob still wasn’t confident with his ability to find his way around the resort, and Rachel had offered to walk him home.

“Thank you again for the lovely meal.” Jacob cleared his throat, not wanting to admit the reasons he’d been silent.

“Oh, yeah, I slaved over a menu to help you pick out the finest ingredients for the chef to cook to your liking.”

“The Kübül lebeniye was delicious and authentic.”

“I will give the chef your compliments.” Rachel nodded with a soft smile. “I hope you know I was teasing about not wanting to marry you.”

“I realize God is asking a lot of one woman to be willing to sacrifice so many years of her life to bearing children.” Something in Jacob’s statement made him pause. What was God asking?

He decided to take some time on his knees before bed. There had been too many divergent thoughts since he’d last prayed out loud while in the car. He needed peace and time for contemplation to be able to hear the whisperings of the Spirit.

“Marriage and having children are kind of personal choices,” Rachel said. “That’s not something we have to decide on the day we meet.”

Jacob wasn’t sure how to answer Rachel. As far as he was concerned, those decisions had little to do with his own personal choices and more to do with his faith in following promptings from God.

“Of course, what do I know?” Rachel chuckle-snorted. “I won’t have a choice anyway. My father will choose my husband. If you truly think you should marry me, you need to get in good with him.”

They had arrived at the door to Jacob’s apartment, and he turned to Rachel before taking out his key. “Do you not have a choice?”

She shrugged. “I mean, Father will probably take my desires into consideration, but… not really.” She lowered her gaze.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jacob lifted her chin with his finger. “Everyone should have the freedom to choose their own path.”

“That is not our culture,” Rachel said, vulnerability in her expression. “Isn’t that what you believe also? That God chooses your path.”

“No, my darling, I do not believe that.” Jacob’s tone was compassionate and sorrowful, wondering how he had gotten so bold as to call Rachel his darling. “God shows me the path and allows me to choose if I will follow. I learned when I was very young that when I follow God’s path, I prosper. And when I chose a different path—” He shrugged.

“Things didn’t go so well?” Rachel guessed, rhetorically. “How does that work? Do you literally see a path in front of you when you close your eyes? Or do you even have to close your eyes?”

“Some direction comes in the form of whisperings from the Spirit of God. Some promptings come from dreams, and some are literal visions before me as if there was a virtual-reality field overlaying my immediate surroundings.”

“That’s… really interesting.”

“You were going to say strange again, weren’t you?” Jacob teased her, lightening the mood.

“I want to try receiving directions from God,” Rachel said with complete seriousness. “How would I go about doing that?”

“Well, before I go to bed each night, I spend time on my knees just talking to God. I tell him all of my concerns, all of my joys, all of my appreciation for everything large and small, and I ask him for answers. Then sometimes I just sit there and wait to see or hear anything he wants me to know.”

“Do you always get an answer?”

Jacob knew what Rachel was really asking. She wondered if she would get an answer. From conversations with others, mostly his parents and grandfather, Jacob learned that most people didn’t receive the kind of clear messages that Jacob received. He tried to answer as honestly as he could to both her outward question and the underlying meaning. “If I wait long enough, an answer eventually comes.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Rachel nodded.

“Will you do me a favor?” Jacob asked. “Will you find me tomorrow and tell me about your experiences with tonight’s prayer?”

“Sure.”

“Whether you experience nothing or everything, I want to hear details, okay?”

“Okay.” Her smile was soft as she took a step back. “I’ll let you get some rest. You’re probably exhausted.”

“Thank you.” Jacob leaned forward and kissed Rachel on her forehead, once again feeling a warmth from their connection. “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”
​
He used his key to open the door and waved gently as he closed it, leaving the woman of his dreams standing outside his apartment. Before even removing his shoes, Jacob whispered a hushed prayer. “Thank you, God.”

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By the time they reached her father’s resort, Jacob and Rachel were practically engaged. At least in jest.

They figured out that Jacob didn’t actually work for her father. She had just assumed that because he was heading to the resort.

Jacob learned that Rachel had an identical twin named Leah, from whom most people couldn’t distinguish a difference. Rachel was curious if Jacob could figure it out and gave him that challenge.

Both she and her sister worked as assistant managers at the resort and occasionally switched name tags just to see how quickly their administrative assistants would figure out their deception. None of the other staff could distinguish between them, and Rachel wondered if some of the employees at the resort even realized there were two assistant managers.

Her favorite color was purple because she said it was the color of royalty and she fully intended to be a queen someday. Jacob promised to fulfill every dream she had for her future.

Rachel was simultaneously in awe of and jealous of her twin sister because she was older—by twenty minutes—and prettier, which was laughable since they were identical twins. Jacob couldn’t wait to meet Leah and figure out if he could tell the difference.
​
Turned out he was able to tell the difference immediately because when he met Leah that afternoon, he knew her right away. As Jacob was waiting in the lobby for the concierge to escort him to his new apartment, both girls approached him wearing identical outfits with matching hairstyles.

Jacob confidently extended his hand. “You must be Leah.”

“What makes you think I’m Leah?” She kept her arms folded across her chest.

“Your eyes are softer.” He didn’t lower his hand, and Leah didn’t reach out yet.

“What?” both girls asked at the same time and in the same tone. The sound was more musical than the stereo in his Cabriolet.

“Rachel’s eyes are snarky.” Jacob nodded to the twin on the left. “But yours are soft, almost as if you’re in love. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Leah finally slipped her hand into his. Her words were suspicious. “I’m not dating anyone.”

Her eyes widened and her jaw gaped as their hands connected with the same warmth as when he’d held Rachel’s hand. Weird.

He took a step back and cleared his throat, then rubbed his hand down the pant leg of his jeans as if he could brush away the electricity that seemed to flow between him and these beautiful twins.

“You’re the first person to ever notice that,” Rachel said with awe in her voice. “I’m blown away.”

“I think I am as well,” Jacob said. “I was expecting a little mole or beauty mark or something that I would notice eventually, not to have an immediate connection like that. Anyway, is there someone who can show me to my apartment? I’m desperately in need of a shower and some food after driving for almost thirteen hours.”

“We’ll show you the way,” Rachel said, grabbing one of Jacob’s smaller bags.

“Where did you drive from?” Leah asked in a subdued tone, also picking up one of Jacob’s bags. She was so different from her twin he couldn’t understand how anyone could mistake them.

Jacob raised the handle on his largest suitcase and nested his overnight bag on top, then rolled the bags behind him as he followed the girls. “I left my home in Be’er Sheva yesterday but stopped overnight to see my grandfather, Abraham, where he lives in a place called Bethel, just north of Jerusalem.”

“That is a long drive in one day,” Leah acknowledged. “You must be exhausted.

“Worth the fatigue to have had the chance to spend the evening with my grandfather yesterday,” Jacob said. “I have no idea how soon I’ll be heading back home. Could be years.”

“You’re staying that long in Harran?” Rachel questioned, as if she hadn’t just spent forty minutes beside him in the car discussing their planned future together.

“Well, I mentioned that my wife is waiting for me here, right?” Jacob chuckled nervously.

“I thought you were joking,” Rachel said. They turned at the end of a long hallway, and she pressed the button for the elevator.

“I would never joke about any prompting from God,” Jacob said with complete confidence.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Leah placed her hand on his arm. “God told you that you needed to find a wife in Harran?”

“No…” Jacob always hesitated to admit just how much he talked to God and how many visions and dreams he had that came true exactly as God had shown him. But he was already in too deep with these ladies. Either they were going to think he was strange and distance themselves from him, or they would embrace him as a visionary man. “God told me that my wife was waiting for me here and that he would place her in my path.”

“Jacob thinks that I’m meant to be his wife,” Rachel said with a defiant smirk. She wrapped her hands around his upper arm as if claiming him for her own.

“Why else would God have placed you in my path not more than thirty seconds after I’d been praying about the subject?” He patted her hand and winked down at her.

The elevator door opened, and they all picked up the bags they’d been carrying and stepped into the lift. They were quiet as they got settled and Leah pushed the button for the fifth floor. She turned to Rachel and Jacob, lifting her chin playfully. “I need to marry first because I’m the oldest.”

“By twenty minutes,” Rachel said. “That hardly counts.”

“Can’t fight the traditions of our culture,” Leah responded with sass.

“If that’s the case, then we need to find you a husband,” Jacob said. “Because I need to marry your sister as soon as possible.”

“What’s the rush?” Leah asked.

Jacob realized immediately that he could either lie or freak these girls out and cause Rachel to run away before they even started dating. He chose to be extremely vague. “So that we can have children.”

“You think I’m just going to give up my career to have your babies?” Rachel teased. “I’ll have to think about that.”

“How many children do you want to have?” Leah asked with sincerity. There was a hopeful lift to her expression, as if she’d be more than willing to give up her career to have his babies.

“God has promised me”—he gulped, wishing he didn’t have to answer that truthfully. He hurried through the rest of his response so that it almost sounded like one long word—“twelve sons and a daughter.”

“Twelve…” Leah coughed and stumbled to echo Jacob’s bold statement.

“Thirteen kids?” Rachel asked with wide eyes. She stepped away from Jacob and pushed her twin forward. “He’s all yours. You’re the oldest. You take him.”
​
They all laughed half-heartedly, but Jacob resigned himself that he had blown the opportunity to date Rachel. If she didn’t want to have children, he couldn’t marry her. Jacob trusted God more than he trusted his own youthful attraction to a pretty girl.
He had thought Rachel was the one for him but couldn’t deny what he knew to be true. God had told Jacob that he’d have twelve sons and a daughter. Somehow, God would provide a way for that to become a reality.

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Note from Julie: this chapter will make more sense if you've read chapter two.

Chapter Three:

“My name is Jacob Medad. Who are you?”

“How did you know to pick me up?” Her voice cracked.

“You were stranded on the side of the road,” Jacob said. “I picked you up because you looked like you needed help.”

“But you said you were from my father’s resort.”

“I said no such thing.” Jacob didn’t want to argue, but this conversation was getting more and more bizarre. “I teased you about needing directions to the resort, but my GPS is more than capable of getting me there, so I figured you’d know I was joking. You seemed to think I was joking.”

“So… if my father didn’t send you to pick me up, why am I in your car?”

“You tell me,” Jacob challenged her. “You’re the one who asked me to unlock the door for you.”

“Because I thought my father had sent someone to pick me up when I got stranded.”

“I guess that was an incorrect assumption on your part,” Jacob said. “I’m heading to the resort, but if you’d rather, I can drop you off at the nearest town and you can call your father for help.”

“Why are you going to the resort?” She still seemed suspicious but not as panicked.

“I’m renting an apartment there because I just got hired to work on the Southeastern Anatolia Project here in the valley. The all-inclusive resort seemed like a perfect place to live for now. Why are you going to the resort?”

“I live there,” she said with hesitation in her voice. “My father owns the resort.”

“Is your father Laban?” Jacob’s heart raced with excitement. “He’s my mother’s cousin.”

“No way.” Her jaw dropped. “What are the odds?”

“Apparently pretty good.” Jacob chuckled. “I had just been praying about finding the path God had for me, and praying about finding my wife, and there you were out of the blue.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you think I’m meant to be your wife?” She folded her arms across her chest with a sarcastic scowl. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Are you already married?” He was rarely wrong about these things as long as he followed God’s promptings.

“N-no,” she stammered.

“Dating someone?”

“No. But—”

“But what?” he asked. “If God stood in front of you and told you I was meant to be your husband, wouldn’t you listen to Him?”

“You’re kind of freaking me out right now,” she said in a quiet voice. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I’ve been asking you for your name for fifteen minutes and you’ve been talking in riddles and expecting me to guess from the millions of names that exist in the world.”

“My name is Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you, Rachel. My name’s Jacob.” He reached out to shake her hand. “Are you going to leave me hanging here?”

Rachel hesitantly slipped her hand into his and warmth ran up his arm. Comforting warmth. From the way she glanced down at their adjoined hands with wide eyes, he knew that she felt the connection also.

“Now do you believe me?” Jacob released her hand and placed his back on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know what to say right now,” she said in a voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear her over the wind from the convertible top down.

“How about we start by you telling me all about yourself, and we’ll go from there? What do you do for a living? How many brothers and sisters do you have? What’s your favorite color? Favorite food? Do you have an iPhone or an Android? I’m a Samsung guy myself, so if you tell me you are permanently attached to your iPhone, I may question God’s intervention here.” He said the words playfully, trying to break the tension.

“Are you a prophet or something?” Rachel asked. “You talk about God as if he tells you what to do all the time.”

He stilled his expression and gulped. Would she be creeped out if he told her about his visions and dreams? If they were going to be married, she would need to know eventually. Might as well get the heavy stuff out of the way now in case she wouldn’t want to marry him on that alone. “I don’t know about being a prophet”—he cleared his throat—“but I know God talks to me a lot. And I try to always listen.”

“That’s really… str—interesting.”

“You were going to say strange. Admit it,” he teased.

“Well… you are indeed the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“But you like me, right?” He was only half-joking.

“Uh, yeah, I guess I sort of do.”

“Cool.” Jacob nodded with a full-on grin. “Now, what’s your favorite color?” 

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With the top down on his sporty little Mercedes Cabriolet, Jacob relished the wind in his hair, cooling him from the desert heat as he left the mountainous region into the Harran plain. He was home. Although he’d never seen Paddan Aram other than in photos, his spirit recognized this as where he would find settlement and peace.

“Thank you, God,” he whispered a heartfelt prayer. “Whatever’s waiting for me here—a job, a home, a wife—I trust you to show me the way.”

Google Maps chirped through the GPS system in his car, informing him that in two miles, he needed to turn left onto the Sanliurfa Harran Yolu. Jacob chuckled, wondering if God had inspired the brilliant minds who created his navigational system.

“God inspires everything,” Jacob told the open air of his convertible. He’d been driving too many hours if he was talking to himself. Less than an hour to go and he would arrive at his uncle’s resort.

As luck would have it, when Jacob’s father had begun inquiring around the family to find possible housing, they found that his mother’s cousin, Laban, owned a large hot springs resort in the Harran plain not far from Jacob’s new office. The all-inclusive 400-bed resort also had fifty furnished apartments. With little effort, Jacob had arranged for his housing needs without having to search the internet or shop for kitchen utensils.

He switched on his turn signal even though there were no cars in sight. Habit from growing up in the largest city in southern Israel. This was far from Be’er Sheva and far from everything else.

Except, apparently, on the side of the road, a broken-down car with a beautiful brunette leaning against it. She was without a head covering to protect her from the intolerable heat of the desert. No woman should be out here alone. She could get kidnapped or worse. Jacob slowed his car as he approached the stranded young lady. With the top down on his convertible, they could see and talk to one another without him getting out and scaring her.

She looked to be in her early twenties, dressed fashionably in a lightweight wraparound skirt and platform sandals, with a billowing top that tastefully concealed her shoulders and arms in satiny linen. She stood beside her smoking car, with her arms folded and a scowl. “Let me guess, you think I need help.” Her tone challenged him not to treat her like a damsel in distress, which she so obviously was.

“No, actually, I was going to ask if you can give me directions to the Karaali Kaplıcaları Resort and Hot Springs,” Jacob asked playfully.

“Did my father send you?” She rolled her eyes. “Typical. I thought he had removed that stupid tracking device from my cell phone when I turned twenty-one.”

Jacob wasn’t even sure how to respond to that as she pulled the door handle on the passenger side of his convertible. What the heck was she doing? He didn’t know if he should worry that she was going to rob him or be flattered that a pretty girl was trying to climb in his car.

“Are you going to unlock the door for me, or what?”

“Uh… sure.” He quickly disengaged the lock and tried not to stare as the brunette’s skirt opened to reveal her thigh as she slid into the leather passenger seat. She didn’t even bother covering up for modesty, and Jacob fought the urge to request she do so. Just because he had committed his life to God and was waiting for divine direction before marrying and becoming physically involved with a woman didn’t mean that everyone in the world shared his conservative values.

“What’s your name?” she asked while clicking her seatbelt into place.

“Jacob. What’s yours?” He pulled away from the side of the road and shifted into second gear, loving the pickup in his little sports car.

“Which one do you think I am?” She turned to him with a smirk. “Most people can’t tell us apart.”

“What?”

“Just take a guess.” She almost bounced in the seat with excitement.

“You want me to guess your name?” Jacob shifted into third and then smoothly into fourth, settling on a comfortable speed, not wanting to push the car in this heat.

“I mean, you have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. Right?”

“Right. Wait, what?” Jacob glanced over at the strange but beautiful woman. “What do I have a fifty-fifty chance of getting right?”

“My name, silly.” She pushed his shoulder and laughed.

“Uh…” He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead. “Can you at least give me a hint?”

“See, I knew you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart. One of these days, someone’s going to figure out how to tell us apart from each other.”

“I am so confused.”

“That’s okay.” She settled into the seat with a smile and faced forward, finally adjusting her skirt so that it fully covered her knees. “You’re not alone.”

“That’s for sure,” he mumbled, wondering if he would ever get the sight of her elegant, long legs out of his thoughts. He tried so hard not to be tempted by women and, for the most part, had never faltered. But he hadn’t dated anyone either.

Jacob was waiting for God to provide him with a wife. Wait a minute… was this woman meant to be his wife? Had God placed a damsel in distress on the side of the road for him to swoop in and rescue? That was unlikely, as romanticized as the notion seemed.

“Wait, how did my father find me so quickly?” She turned to Jacob with a creased brow.

“I have no idea,” Jacob responded with honesty. “I’ve never met the man.”

“You work for him, but you’ve never met him?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“I was just hired a few weeks ago. I’ve never even seen my new office. The interview team met with me over Skype.”

“Interview team?” Now it was her turn to look confused. “My father uses Zoom.”

“Zoom, Skype, same difference.” Jacob shrugged. “Still a miracle technology just like the sustainable irrigation system that allows us to grow crops in this otherwise infertile valley.” Jacob gestured to the glorious fields lining their way as far as the eye could see.

“Who was with my father on the Zoom call?” Her voice was suspicious.

“Come to think of it, the interview team was three women,” Jacob mused. “Now I know for sure I haven’t met your father.”

“What did they look like?” The young lady was now pushed entirely against the passenger side door, a terrified flash in her eyes.

“Uh… one was an older woman with a British accent, one was a younger Chinese woman, maybe about my mom’s age. And the third was an American with short, dark hair.”

“Who are you?” she whispered.

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“Check.” Jacob moved his queen into position, knowing he wouldn’t hold the lead for long. His father was a prior grand master and didn’t get beat at chess very often. Still, Jacob never passed up the opportunity to play against the best. “I’ve prayed about this father, and I know Harran is where God wants me.”

“It’s a fourteen-hour drive, son.” Isaac moved a pawn to block Jacob’s queen. “Your mother would be devastated if you weren’t home for holidays.”

“I’m twenty-five years old, dad. I can drive fourteen hours easy.” Attending college right here in Jacob’s hometown of Be’er Sheva had been a blessing. The Albert Katz International School for Desert Studies was practically walking distance from his parents’ stately home. “Plus, I could always make it a two-day trip and stop to see grandfather in Bethel, or Uncle Bethuel in Nablus. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“You know, I think his son, Laban lives in the Paddan Aram area.” Isaac glanced up with an optimistic smile. “I’ll have to ask your mother if she has his phone number or address. I think he’s got some kids your age.”

“That would be nice.” Jacob took a nervous breath. “The region is so desolate. I was worried I wouldn’t have anyone to hang out with.”

“Of all the places in the world, why on earth would you want to move to Turkey?”

“Harran is practically on the Syrian border,” Jacob reasoned, as if that was any less bleak. “It’s only a four-hour drive to Dortyol and you know how I love the Mediterranean Sea. I could visit Cyprus. I’ve always wanted to go see Mount Olympos. Besides, this is a great job opportunity, dad. My master’s degree isn’t meant to be just a piece of paper on the wall.”

“I paid good money for that piece of paper on your wall.” Isaac scowled. As a wealthy landowner and businessman, his father never understood why Jacob wanted to earn a degree in Desert Studies with a concentration on Biotechnology of Drylands.

“The regional development project has revolutionized sustainable agriculture in that area and we’re finally able to irrigate the plains surrounding Harran to grow cotton and rice. It’s a blessing for that barren region. With my degree, I’m the perfect man for this job. They need me.”

Isaac sat back and folded his arms across his chest, the game temporarily suspended as Jacob squirmed under his father’s critical observation.

There was one more point Jacob needed to make, and he didn’t want his dad to think this was the only reason he was moving up to Harran, but it was one very big reason. “Plus… I’m pretty sure I’m going to meet my wife there.”

“Your… wife? What makes you think that?” Isaac raised his eyebrows.

“Another dream,” Jacob mumbled, waiting for the scrutiny. He rarely mentioned his dreams because people looked at him like he was a kooky visionary.

“What kind of dream are you talking about, son? The kind where you wake up feeling like you need a cold shower? Or the kind where you wake up feeling like God’s trying to tell you something?” His father was one of the few people who actually believed Jacob when he said he received messages from God.

“I’m an adult, dad. What do you think?”

“I think… God must need you in Harran.” Finally. Acceptance from his father. Of all the successes in life, achieving acceptance from one’s father is the most treasured.

“Thanks Dad,” Jacob choked out through a sudden lump in his throat.

“One other thing…” Isaac sat forward again and reached for his king. “Checkmate.”

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“One more lap!” Ahira called out to his advisor, Shemaria.

“No, Your Highness, now!” Shemaria hollered back. “You need to be in the car in ten minutes and you still need a shower.”

Ahira didn’t even slow his stride while making the final turn around the track. “I can run the four hundred in forty-seven flat. Chill out. I’m doing one more lap.” He kept going but upped his pace to a sprint to appease his advisor.

Less than a minute later he sprinted straight into the bathroom and had the shower full blast in less than two. His all-natural body wash with essential oils acted as shampoo, deodorant soap, and body lotion all in one and before he could count to thirty, he was reasonably clean.

He slipped on a linen shirt over his still wet body, shook his head to let the droplets of water fly out of his hair, and pulled on a pair of linen bell bottoms, commando since underwear was only necessary when running, and he was done with his workout for the day.

“You are not wearing that to the Tribute Festival,” Shemaria insisted. “Your black suit is hanging right here along with shined shoes and a necktie.”

“Oh, heck no,” Ahira said, slipping on his leather sandals. “I’m not sitting in a car for two hours in a monkey suit. Just get me there early enough to change in my hotel suite before my meeting with the king, or I can change in the car.”

“You’d take your clothes off in the car? With Eliab and his advisor… and his sister?” Shemaria hastily grabbed the garment bag containing Ahira’s suit and hurried after him.

Ahira managed to climb into the passenger seat of Shemaria’s SUV nine minutes and forty-five seconds after being told they needed to leave in ten minutes. “Fifteen seconds to spare,” he said proudly as Shemaria clamored to slip into the driver’s seat.

“I will not allow you to get naked in front of your best friend’s sister,” Shemaria said, clicking his seatbelt into place.

“All bodies are beautiful in God’s eyes, and our body contains our spirit, so our skin shines with life,” Ahira said. “We all have a body. All bodies look alike. She has no reason to be embarrassed about my body any more than I have reason to be embarrassed of hers.”

“I hope the hotel gift shop sells condoms or we’re in trouble,” Shemaria muttered.

“My body and her body will never join as one until we have been joined in holy matrimony,” Ahira said. “So, steady your breathing and calm your heart. All will be well, my friend.”

“Your Highness, I am not your friend. I am your advisor,” Shemaria said. “And I’m advising you to not take your clothes off in front of Deborah. Am I making myself clear?”

“As clear as the sparkling droplets of water that cleansed my beautiful body not seven minutes ago.”

“What commandment did I break that God is punishing me with the assignment of following around the least reverent prince in all of Israel?”

“Relax, it could be worse.” Ahira fought the humor pulling at the corners of his mouth. “If God really wanted to punish you, he would have assigned you to Gil.”

“I shudder.” Shemaria physically shook his body for emphasis and they both laughed. Prince Pagiel of the House of Asher was a total stoner and arrived at any required event with bloodshot eyes and smelling of weed. How he functioned in society was beyond Ahira’s understanding.

Ahira would never partake of any substance that could possibly inhibit his body from experiencing the fullness of God’s Spirit. Deep breathing while inhaling the minerals surrounding him in the air and soil was all the high he would ever need.

That, and he very much looked forward to the day when he and Deborah could be joined in all ways physically possible. Shemaria hit that nail square on the head. Not that Ahira would ever admit to the truth. Not that Deborah’s older brother would ever allow them to marry.

Eliab, Prince of Zebulon, had been Ahira’s best friend since they were babies even though they lived thirty minutes apart and represented separate territories.

When Eliab’s little sister developed into the voluptuous woman she was now, Eliab stopped inviting her to join them on adventures. His refusal had barely interrupted their courtship. Ahira and Deborah just had to get creative at hiding their attraction for each other.

At nineteen, Deborah was only two years younger than Ahira and had been agreeable to the notion of becoming the Princess of Naphtali since her seventh birthday party when she realized Ahira was a prince. Heck, she’d already been the Princess of Zebulon since she was born, so she wouldn’t be changing her lifestyle. She’d just be changing her tribe.

And she loved Ahira. And he loved her. And, yes, they’d seen each other without apparel more times than Ahira would ever admit to anyone, especially her brother or his advisor.

They loved to go skinny dipping in his private hot springs near his palatial home in Tiberius. Deborah had a best friend just down the street who covered for them all the time. Her brother never questioned why Deborah spent so much time with her bestie, Rebecca. Apparently, he didn’t realize Rebecca lived less than a quarter of a mile from Ahira.

Ahira didn’t even feel guilty about the time he spent with Deborah. Since they’d never had sex, he didn’t see anything wrong with the fun they had. As long as he continued to hear God’s Spirit guiding him, Ahira knew he was living according to God’s plan. Intercourse was reserved for marriage. Anything else was fair game. Or so he thought. He was pretty sure Deborah’s brother and parents wouldn’t agree, but whatever.

As Ahira contemplated his relationship with his future princess, Shemaria drove toward Nazareth. The last few miles created a flutter in Ahira’s stomach that disappeared the minute the SUV pulled up to the Zebulon’s compound and the front door opened revealing the love of his life and her older brother.

His habit was to run to Eliab’s arms and give him a much longer hug than normal friends would, then he would release Eliab and pull Deborah into his arms for a nice, long brotherly hug. During that hug he would take a dopamine hit of whatever essential oil she was diffusing through her silky skin. If they were turned far enough away from everyone else, he would kiss her neck or rub her back or whisper a little message.

Perhaps it was the excitement of heading to the festival that increased his level of awareness, or the knowledge that they’d be spending a week at the same hotel a few suites down the hall from one another, or just that they’d been apart for too many days. Whatever the reason, Ahira had to force himself not to take Deborah in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could see straight. His whisper was soft but insistent. “Let’s get married.”

“Okay,” she whispered back. Not even a hesitation. They knew they were getting married someday, so the declaration didn’t spring forth out of the blue sea.

They ended their stolen hug and Ahira spoke to both Deborah and her brother Eliab. “Dang, I missed you guys so much! How long has it been since we’ve gotten all three of us together?”

This was a running joke between him and Deborah. They’d seen each other last week but they couldn’t remember the last time all three of them had dinner or attended a church service or gone boating on the Sea of Galilee. So they tested Eliab’s memory to help them remember also.

“Was it our mom’s birthday party last month?” Eliab questioned his sister.

“That sounds about right.” Deborah nodded and smiled.

Moshe, Eliab’s advisor, interrupted their reminiscing. “Let’s talk about this on the road. We’re going to be late.”

“And we can’t be late,” Shemaria echoed Moshe. “The Prince of Naphtali decided running several thousand miles this afternoon was more important than getting dressed.”

“I’m dressed.” Ahira raised his arms flamboyantly as if showing off an extravagant wardrobe rather than displaying the simple all-natural linens he wore.

“You need to be wearing your suit and tie,” Shemaria said through clenched teeth. “My job is to get you to the Tribute Festival looking like a prince, and if I can’t even do that, they might fire me.”

“I told my advisor I’d be more than willing to change in the car.” Ahira blinked his eyelashes with fabricated innocence, leading Eliab right into the trap he’d set.

“In front of my sister?”

“It’s not like she hasn’t seen me naked before.” In response to Ahira’s statement, Eliab growled at his best friend. “What? We took baths together when we were two or three, right?” He didn’t mention they’d taken a shower together last week. That wouldn’t go over well.

“You’re not changing in front of my sister, Your Highness,” Eliab insisted.

“Well then, we’d better get to the hotel on time, Your Highness, so that I can make it up to my suite and change into that very uncomfortable suit hanging in a garment bag in the SUV.”

“Hop in, guys,” Moshe said, climbing into the passenger seat beside Shemaria, who would be driving all the way to Jerusalem.

“I get the third row!” Ahira always took the back so that Deborah didn’t have to. He would seem like a gentleman if he didn’t have ulterior motives. Whichever side of the middle seat Deborah sat in, Ahira could snake his arm around and hold her hand or touch her waist or play with her hair. As far as he knew, no one had caught on to their game.

In reality, they were playing a dangerous game and getting caught was inevitable. They’d play as long as they could though.

Before they’d even left the Zebulon’s driveway, Deborah blurted out, “This is my first festival. You guys have to tell me what to expect.” She was only nineteen and their father had decided she was too young last year.

“A lot of prayers,” Eliab grumbled.

“It’s amazing,” Ahira added, his tone completely opposite of that of his friend. “Every morning there’s a prayer meeting and we actually get to pray at the temple mount. A few years ago, that would have been unheard of. Now that our kingdom is at peace, anyone can pray on the temple mount. You can just feel the Spirit of God as soon as you step inside the Jaffa Gate.”

“I was under the impression that you feel the Spirit of God everywhere you go and anytime you want.” Shemaria’s brows creased and he glanced at Ahira through the rearview mirror.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Ahira wondered out loud with stars in his eyes. “We are all connected to the minerals in the earth and the oxygen in the air, and all living organisms.”

“You’re such a tree hugger, Your Highness,” Eliab said. “How are we even friends?”

“I’m pretty sure we were best friends even before we came to earth,” Ahira said, then his tone shifted, and his eyes drifted to Deborah. “We were destined to be together since the premortal existence.” Thankfully no one seemed to notice the change except Deborah, who immediately changed the subject as a distraction.

“Okay, so in addition to prayers, what else will we be doing?”

“Well, tonight there will be a lighting ceremony, and tomorrow there will be a tree planting ceremony. Each of the princes brings a branch from a tree in their tribal region and presents it to the Levites as a tribute. Then an almond tree is planted in recognition of the ancient prophet, Aaron’s rod springing forth shoots and blossoms even though the branch had been severed from the tree.”

“And then what?”

“A water drawing ceremony is on day three and that is accompanied by a parade. Everything we do is symbolic and based on a miracle or event that happened in ancient times. On day four we have a feast with lamb as the main dish. And then on the last day, we have a grand ball where everyone dresses like princes and princesses.”

“What if nobody dances with me?” Deborah pouted.

“Your brother and I will dance with you,” Ahira said, knowing she’d set him up. “Right, Eliab? We won’t let you sit out a single dance.”

“Uh, I hope to have a woman to dance with who is not related to me,” Eliab said. “I’m not getting any younger, you know. Gotta get married eventually, right?”

“Then I’ll dance with you myself,” Ahira said with conviction. “I’m not related to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Ahira,” she said with exaggerated appreciation. “I was afraid I wouldn’t know anyone.”

“I won’t let you out of my sight, I promise.” Ahira wanted to jump up and down and kiss Deborah but knew this wasn’t the time or place.

Deborah squeezed her brother’s arm with both hands and leaned against his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re my brother. You have the best friends.”

“If you say so, little sister.”

“I do,” she said definitively.
​
Ahira couldn’t wait to hear Deborah say those words across an altar where she would pledge her love to him. And he would say the words right back. And mean them with all his heart.

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Abidan had resigned himself to the oppressive rules imposed upon him by his advisor long ago. Raja insisted he drive everywhere they travelled, for safety reasons, he said. Whatever.

Raja had just as much stress navigating the bustling streets of Ramallah as Abidan would. The difference was Raja white-knuckled the drive and Abidan clung to the grab bar above the passenger side door of the black SUV.

Leaving the city to make the one-hour journey to Jerusalem for the Tribute Festival would be a welcome change with a peaceful drive through the rocky wilderness. If they could ever get out of Ramallah.

His hometown and center of his family’s territory had grown in recent years to one of the largest and most diverse cities in the region. Abidan was honored to represent the tribe of Benjamin at the festival.

The Kingdom of Israel was finally at peace after three thousand years of conflicts. Abidan’s lineage traced directly back to Benjamin himself, a son of Jacob the prophet. As the oldest of the princes who would be attending the festival, Abidan knew everything there was to know about the twelve tribes of Israel.

At twenty-five, he should have been embarrassed that he had not yet found a woman smart enough to marry. Not that anyone at the festival would be worthy of his attention. The only person who had ever been kind to him was Nahshon, Prince of Judah.

Nahshon had mentored Abidan through the years and was the second oldest of the princes. He was also holding out finding a wife insisting that he would only marry a Levite. Good luck with that. Abidan snorted out loud just thinking of the challenge. His advisor glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s that conniving smirk on your face?” Raja asked.

“I was just looking forward to seeing Nahshon again and wondered if he’d finally found himself a Levite woman to marry.”

Raja also snorted. “He’s going to be a bachelor forever if that’s what he wants.”

“Agreed,” Abidan said. “Who would ever want to marry a haughty Levite anyway.”

“Uh… you are literally going to this festival to pay tribute to the keepers of the temple,” Raja said. “You might want to change your attitude in the next hour.”

“I don’t care how the descendants of Levi have managed to hold onto that designation for thousands of years, but they will always be the enemy to me.”

“Whatever you say, Your Highness.” Raja didn’t sound like he believed a word Abidan said.

They finally merged onto Route 50 and Abidan was able to relax. The drive was literally downhill from Ramallah to Jerusalem.

Abidan was excited to check into the Waldorf Astoria again and wished he could move his entire household there. Nothing in Ramallah even came close to the luxury, not even his palace.

All guests of the Waldorf Astoria received royal treatment and Abidan found that refreshing. He wished he could collect that opulence and bring it home to the refugee camps in his territory. A sobering thought he pushed to the back of his mind as Raja slowed his approach into the metropolitan area of Jerusalem.

The Old City was a tourist attraction under normal conditions but during the time of the Tribute Festival, traffic was a nightmare. Their hotel was practically across the street from the Jaffa Gate and people swarmed the area. Abidan was shaking by the time they pulled up to the entrance and Raja handed off the keys to the valet.

Several members of the concierge approached their SUV including the hotel manager, who addressed Abidan with a bow of respect. “Your Highness, welcome to the Waldorf Astoria. We are honored to have you as our guest.”

“Naturally,” Abidan said, then reined himself in. No need to leave the gentleman with an impression of his snobbery. “We’re delighted to be here. Your accommodations are the finest in the kingdom.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The hotel manager, whose nametag read Zaid, nodded politely. “We try our best.”

“And it shows, good sir. Where shall I find my suite?” Abidan glanced at the two members of the concierge, who had finished unloading his luggage.

“The Ambassador Suite has been reserved for you on the nineth floor,” Zaid said. “You are adjacent to King Jacob. I understand you are the eldest of the princes this year.”

Abidan chuckled and smiled at the man, elbowing him in jest. “Is that your way of politely noting that I have yet to choose a princess?”

“Gosh, Your Highness, I hadn’t even taken that into consideration.” Zaid winked conspiratorially. “Perhaps by the time you leave next week, your status will have changed?”

“I’ll have to report back to you, sir.” Abidan grinned.

“I look forward to a full account, Your Highness,” Zaid said. “For now, let’s get you settled in your suite. Our concierge will take you there.”

“Much obliged.” Abidan patted Zaid on the shoulder and turned to the concierge.

“Right this way, Your Highness.” The concierge led the way into the atrium, the grandeur of which rivaled even the Saudi king’s palace.

Marble flooring shined, grand staircases graced the sides with balconies on every level, an elegant clock tower acted as centerpiece, and natural light bathed the atrium with inviting warmth. Yes, Abidan wanted to move here permanently.

His attention was drawn to the staircase on his right where four men flanked an angel in white so elegant, she was nearly sparkling in the sunlight. Although her gown was modern, it hinted of antiquity and seemed to have been designed to hug her bodice. Her hair was upswept and tucked around a silver band that almost resembled a tiara as if she wanted to give off the impression of royalty. She sold it well.

Every man, and woman, in the atrium stopped what they were doing as she descended the last flight of stairs and someone nearby grumbled, “How many bodyguards does the prophet’s daughter need?”

“Four, apparently,” someone else answered.

“The prophet’s daughter?” Abidan whispered to his advisor. “She’s grown up in the past year.”

“That’s Mira?” Raja asked in awe. “She has… matured.”

Abidan’s feet moved as if on their own accord in Mira’s direction, but Raja stopped him.

“Now who’s crushing on a Levite?” Raja mumbled under his breath.

“I’m not crushing on her,” Abidan insisted. “I would simply like to pay my respects.”

“She’s out of your league, Your Highness,” Raja said.

“I am the Prince of Benjamin—” Abidan turned to his advisor. “There is no woman on this earth who is out of my league.”

“Yeah, well, that woman is now out of the atrium, and you’d look like a lovesick fool following her down the hallway,” Raja said. “In the time it took you to brag about your title, you lost the opportunity to introduce yourself to the Levite of your dreams.”

“I am not marrying a Levite,” Abidan declared with falsified confidence.

“Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

“Shut up, Raja,” Abidan mumbled. “Follow our concierge. I’m certain a fine bottle of Scotch is waiting for me in our suite, and I need a drink.”

“And a cold shower,” Raja mumbled back.

“What was that?” Abidan turned and glared at his advisor.

“Nothing, Your Highness. Just following our concierge, like you requested.” As Raja continued after the men with their luggage, Abidan turned one more time in the direction where the princess had left the atrium.
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Daughter of the prophet, Abidan corrected himself. Mira is not a princess… yet. A tiny smile pulled at his lips as he turned and followed the concierge. 

Click here to read more chapters of Abidan - Prince of Benjamin!

“You need help, man.”

“You need to mind your own business and remember who’s in charge.” Gil wanted to fire Otto but knew his father would never allow it. Plus, he was too stoned to get off the floor so figured he might as well let his advisor boss him around like he always did.

“I’ll consider you in charge when you’re sober enough to be in charge,” Otto said, kicking Gil’s leg. “We have to leave in half an hour, and you’re not even showered or dressed. Do you want Ayelet to see you like this?”

“She’s seen me worse,” Gil said with an internal shrug. Physically moving his shoulders would be too much work. “Besides, she loves me no matter what.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not going to want to be seen with you at the festival if you’re strung out and filthy. Now, get in the shower. I’ll pick you out some clean clothes and somehow make you look like the prince that you supposedly are.”

“I’ve been a prince longer than you’ve been alive.” Gil forced himself off the floor and looked his advisor in the eye, sort of.

“By six months,” Otto said. “That hardly counts. And if you take maturity into consideration, I’m years older than you.”

Otto was right. At twenty-years-old, Gil acted like a seventeen-year-old stoner, and Otto acted like an adult with a real job and real responsibility. Gil stood in the center of his room watching Otto paw through his enormous closet trying to find something he felt was suitable for the festival.

The Festival of Tribute happened every July whether the princes wanted to drag themselves from the twelve territories of the kingdom or not. Considering that Gil had nothing in common with any of the other princes, and had already met the woman of his dreams, he had no desire to attend the banquets and tribute ceremonies and church services and parades and grand ball. Ugh.

If only Gil could just send a donation to the Levites for their exemplary service in the temple of the gospel he didn’t even believe in, he’d be happy. But no, the kingdom forced him to physically come to the temple and offer his tribute like a servant instead of a prince.

Not willing to let his advisor choose his attire for the two-hour journey, Gil strode over and pushed Otto gently out of the way, choosing his black jeans, black tunic, and black trench coat. Then he reached into a drawer and grabbed a pair of boxers and a pair of socks and headed for the bathroom.

“You’re seriously going to wear all black?” Otto called after him.

“Do you see any other colors in my closet?” Gil called back to him, then firmly closed the door to his bathroom.

Standing at the bathroom vanity Gil regarded his reflection. Otto was right; he looked like crap. His blue eyes were blood shot. His dirty blond hair looked more dirty than blond, and his ponytail holder was missing leaving strings of uncombed snarls. Time to clean up and act like a prince.

“Greetings, I am Pagiel, Prince of Asher,” Gil said to the image in the mirror. “I’ve come to offer my tribute to the gods, excuse me, the one God who supposedly exists and I should be honored that he created me. Here’s my tribute oh-high-and-mighty temple protectors. Now let me go home to my palace overlooking the Mediterranean Sea where I can paint abstracts and get high and dream of the day when Ayelet agrees to marry me so I will no longer be the only prince of Israel who’s still a virgin.”

Knowing he’d feel better once he’d allowed the steam of a shower to clean his pores and his lungs, Gil shucked out of his dirty clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor rather than walking four feet over to the hamper.

Hot water, steam, shampoo with natural essential oils, soap made with hemp oil, and a softened loofa sponge combined to wake him from his stupor, and Gil managed to look presentable by the time Ayelet arrived twenty minutes later. Other than his hair, which he knew she’d help him with.

“Where are you?” Ayelet called from the entrance to his suite. She didn’t wait to be invited in just pushed open the door to his bathroom, which he’d cracked to let out some steam and heat. She kicked his dirty clothes out of the way then reached into the drawer and took out his comb. “Sit down.”

“Nice to see you too, babe,” Gil said, his stomach fluttering when he took in the gorgeous blonde who had invaded his bathroom. Luckily, he was already dressed when she barged in. That or unluckily since he was dying to marry her and had been ever since he figured out what would finally happen on their wedding night. “Don’t I even get a kiss?”

“We’re late,” she said, pushing his shoulder down to force him into the chair at his vanity. “We can make out in the car on the way there if you really want to be wearing my lipstick by the time we get to Jerusalem.”

“I would be honored to wear your lipstick if it means I get to make out with you all the way to Jerusalem,” he said, looking up into her sparkling blue eyes. She glanced down at him and fought a tiny smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

“Fine, one tiny kiss and then I’ve got to comb your hair and tie it back so we can leave.”

Gil pulled Ayelet down onto his lap and kissed her way longer than anyone’s definition of one tiny kiss. When they finally pulled away, Gil mumbled, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“You need to brush your teeth,” Ayelet said, totally breaking the vibe. “You taste like pot.”

“You like the taste of pot,” he teased her, knowing the only time she’d even come close to tasting pot was by kissing him. She was as straight as the white lace she wore to church on the sabbath. Ayelet had never touched alcohol or drugs and wouldn’t let Gil push their make out sessions past kissing. She tortured him.

“No, I don’t.” She pushed herself off his lap. “Now let me up so I can comb your hair.”

“I love it when you play with my hair.” Gil moaned softly as she took the stringy but clean locks in her hands and tugged lightly with a comb.

“I’m not playing with your hair to get you turned on, so don’t get any ideas,” she said. “I’m combing your hair to make you presentable in public, Your Highness.”

“How can you expect me to not get turned on when you talk dirty to me, princess?” His mumble was accompanied by soft growls from the back of his throat. “Let’s skip the festival and get married.”

“Shut up and hold still.” Ayelet smacked his head lightly with the comb. “Come to church with me and go to rehab then we’ll talk about getting married.”

“Sorry.” Gil sighed in mock dismay. “I can’t go to rehab. I’m expected at the Tribute Festival in a few hours. You’ll have to drag me there next week when we get home.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” She stopped combing and met his gaze firmly in the mirror. “You need help.”

Gil looked away, knowing she was right but also knowing he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud.

“And you can come to church with me tomorrow morning.” She resumed combing.

“That’s right,” Gil grumbled. Every morning of the festival a church service was offered at the temple, and everyone was expected to attend. He never had attended and didn’t intend to start tomorrow. But he didn’t say that to Ayelet. Let her think she could somehow reform him into the good boy she deserved. The good man she deserved. One of these days he’d pick himself up and become the man she deserved.

“There, you look handsome once more.”

Gil met her gaze in the mirror again and gave her a half smile. “Thanks for helping me.”

“I love you, Pagiel,” Ayelet said with a serious face. “I always have. And I always will.”

“That’s good, because I’m a complete idiot and you deserve better.”

“Actually, you’re quite intelligent and one of these days you’re going to get your head out of the cloud of smoke you live in and do something with your life.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Gil said without sincerity, then stood and pulled her into his arms. Before releasing her so that they could leave for the festival he whispered, “I love you too, Ayelet. Always have and always will.”

Click here to read the entire prequel to the Princes of Israel Series, First Prince of Israel, which is only available to my newsletter subscribers.

Veronika

“I have some leftover wiener saftgulasch if you’re hungry.” I set my purse on the side table near the sofa and started into the kitchen. Coming back to my apartment after talking to the doctor and confirming that we were going to be parents in November was surreal. That seemed so far away, and yet so close.
“Not sure what that is, but I’m a guy. I’ll eat anything, and I’m starving.” Gil sat down on the sofa, still looking a little dazed.
“It’s kind of like beef stew,” I said. “It’s delicious.”
“I’m going to get fat if I keep hanging out with you,” Gil said. Not likely. As an athlete he was honed and beautiful. I’d only seen him without clothes on once, but that was enough to seer the image into my brain forever.
“Sympathy weight, they call it,” I told him. The stew was already cooked, so I just needed to warm it on the stove. There was also a bag of bakery rolls on the counter, which I took to the table along with a stick of butter.
When I turned from setting the food on the table, Gil was right behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled my hair away from my neck, and draped it over one shoulder. “Food smells really good.” He lowered his face to my neck and kissed me there.
I leaned back into him and melted. “You smell really good.”
He kissed my neck one more time, and I turned to wrap my arms around him and pressed my lips to his. This was the first time we’d kissed passionately in a long time, and I quickly got lost in our embrace. Until he backed me against the table, and we almost knocked the food off the plates.
“Let’s eat,” Gil said, barely breaking eye contact. “I’m very, very hungry.”
Food didn’t seem to be the object of his desire, but that’s what I fed him.
For about twenty minutes.
As we stared at each other across the table, we communicated a different desire, hunger for food satiated. Hunger for each other, not even close.
“Veronika,” Gil whispered with a pained expression. “I need to leave now.”
I didn’t answer with words, just shook my head back and forth slowly.
“You’re not making this easy on me.” He groaned and didn’t release my gaze.
“Nothing in life is easy,” I said.
“Tell me to go home,” he said.
“You are home.”
We stared at each other for a long moment.
Not sure if I moved first or if he did, but suddenly we were in each other’s arms and falling onto the sofa, lips pressed together, bodies pressed together, hands everywhere, legs intertwined.
We didn’t have sex. We didn’t even take each other’s clothes off. But we connected in a way I didn’t realize was possible. We kissed for what felt like hours and finally just lay in each other’s arms, breathing peacefully.
Before he fell asleep, Gil whispered, “I think I love you.”
“I think I love you too,” I whispered back, then settled my head onto his chest and let myself drift away.
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