Read Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) for Free Online Page B

like a peasant and had grown impossibly dust coated. Once they reached Harran, she would wash every dusty thing in her pack and not be so quick to change to fresh clothing. And she must insist Abram not push them so hard. Father was already showing signs of fatigue, and the servants had no time to rest or bathe in the Euphrates. What she wouldn’t give to feel clean again!
    She lifted the tent flap and stepped into the bright morning sunlight, squinting.
    “The meal is ready to break your fast, mistress. The master is asking for you.” Her maid, Lila, offered her a flask of water, then fell into step a pace behind her.
    “Why did you not wake me sooner then?” Irritation tinged her voice, and Sarai checked herself as she walked toward the circle of men. She would never get her way if she did not sweeten her requests with a pleasing tone.
    “I’m sorry, mistress. The master said to let you sleep.” Lila stepped to the side while Sarai walked with practiced grace toward the central fire, straightening her back.
    She tested a smile, sensing it more listless than eager to please, and finally settled for a mixed half smile that would convey to Abram her pleasure at seeing him and her displeasure at her circumstances.
    She spotted female servants pouring batter onto the surface of a camp oven to bake the quick flat bread, a poor substitute for the soft, yeasty, sweet dough she was so well-known for in Ur. She was weary of flat bread and stews and goat cheese. Sheep cheese had a better flavor, but their supply had been minimal from the start, making her parcel it out most carefully. How much longer would it take to get to the land Adonai wanted them to reach?
    Her smile widened just slightly at Abram’s approach. “My lord.” She gave a short bow, accepting the stone seat he offered her near the fire.
    Abram took her hand and kissed her cheek. “You look well today,” he said, giving her that charming smile she could never resist. He had a way of disarming her, distracting her from things that troubled her until she looked back on the matter and realized he had won the little game they played with hardly a contest. She must not let it happen this time. She could not keep up this pace.
    “If I look well, it is an illusion, my lord.” She kept her tone light and lowered her head, her expression reserved. “I cannot sleep another night on such hard ground. Send the servants to find feathers to fill between sheets of fine linen or shear one of the sheep and fill the linen cover with its wool. And make them pad it thick. I don’t want to feel a single clod of dirt or stone beneath me.”
    He squeezed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Such a thing would be a burden, dear one. Wait until we reach Harran. Then you can have your bed of fine feathers and we will rest for a short time.” He released her hand as though the matter was settled.
    “I cannot wait that long. I could barely walk this morning.” It was an exaggeration of the aches she’d felt, but he didn’t need to know it. She accepted a plate of flat bread and cheese from Lila’s hand and nibbled the cheese, scrunching her nose at the sharp taste as she watched him. A hint of annoyance crossed his brow, causing her the slightest prickle of anxiety. She hadn’t meant to anger him, but still . . .
    He looked as though he were about to speak, but then appeared to discard his frustration, surprising her. He stroked the edges of his beard. “I will see what can be done to make your bed more comfortable.”
    She searched his face for some sign of weakening. He didn’t usually give in so easily. “My bed would be just fine if my husband shared it.” She was baiting him and she knew it, but she didn’t care.
    When his expression changed again to frustration, she wondered at her own good sense. But she wanted more than a bed of soft feathers. She wanted her husband to give her a child, and he couldn’t do that when they were living apart. Let him be angry