My Enemy, My Love (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Copyright

  ISBN 1-57748-529-7

  © 1999 by Barbour Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Truly Yours, PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Dominick Saponaro.

  One

  The city of Jerusalem gleamed whitely in the bright afternoon sun, its huge walls resplendent among the verdant hillsides. It nestled among valleys—the Kidron to the east, the Hinnom to the west.

  Two young men approaching the magnificent city paused in their journey to marvel at the grandeur. One young man shifted the lamb he carried in his arms, his dark eyes growing large with wonder.

  “Look, Barak. The City of David!” The words were not much more than a whisper of awe.

  His friend smiled slightly, his teeth showing briefly through his short, dark beard. “Your first pilgrimage to the holy city. Is it as grand as you had imagined?”

  “More so. Never could I have imagined such a wonderful place, not even in my dreams.”

  Barak reached to take the lamb from his friend’s tired arms. “Believe me, Adonijah, it is not all so wonderful.”

  Adonijah turned to Barak in surprise. “You sound as though you are disappointed. Or maybe offended would be a better word.”

  They resumed their walk. “Neither, and both.” Barak shook his head in disgust. “Who would have thought that the City of David would harbor such a motley crew of people. Romans, Egyptians, Greeks. They even offer sacrifices at our holy Temple.”

  “But, Barak. It has been this way for many years. You have lived among it all of your life. What makes you so offended by it now?” Adonijah turned a puzzled frown on his companion, his own short beard reflecting the sheen of the bright sunlight and turning it from brunette to a dark almond.

  Barak sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I think I’m just disgusted with everything right now.” He couldn’t begin to explain his restlessness when he didn’t understand it himself.

  As they approached the city gate, the crowd increased until it was hard to move more than a few feet at a time. Amid the babble of accents and foreign tongues, and under the vigilant, watchful eyes of Roman soldiers, the two were funneled through the gate to be swallowed up by the crowd.

  The sun beat hotly on the raucous crowd of people milling among the streets. Everywhere, merchants loudly hawked their wares, purchasers haggled over prices, and people loudly shouted and teased with each other.

  The streets of Jerusalem were as crowded as the roads along the way, and everywhere the citizenry mixed in a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds.

  To speak, one had to shout above the noise. Adonijah addressed himself to Barak, his loud voice causing the other to flinch. “What makes you so dissatisfied with life, my friend? How can you be bored among such marvels?”

  Barak sighed as Adonijah stopped at yet another merchant’s stall. At this rate, they would never reach the Temple to offer their sacrifice.

  Adonijah lifted a jeweled necklace from the table and held it up for Barak’s inspection. “How about this for Miriam?” The lapis lazuli stones glinted brightly—almost as brightly as the merchant’s eyes as he haggled with Adonijah in hopes of a quick sale.

  At the closed look on Barak’s face, Adonijah lost his smile. It took only a moment for him to assess the situation. “Ah. It is not life you are dissatisfied with, is it, but this marriage to Miriam?” He placed the necklace back on the table, his gaze sweeping briefly over the man who was closer to him than any brother could have been. Barak was strong. Handsome. He could have his choice of women.

  At the same time Miriam was beautiful beyond comparison. Why would his friend deign a marriage to one such as she, especially since it would unite two already close families?

  “Let’s move on. We want to be among the first to offer our sacrifice, or it will be late when we get back to the others,” Barak suggested.

  Barak knew his friend wasn’t fooled, but he had no desire to speak of something so personal with him. These thoughts and feelings were things he had to deal with himself.

  Jerusalem was a buzzing hive of activity on any day, but during Passover its streets were choked with pilgrims, as well as its normal workmen, tradesmen, slaves, and other citizenry. The two men pushed themselves forward past the Antonia. Helmeted soldiers moved among the garrison, their wary gazes following the crowds of people.

  They finally reached the colonnaded portico around the Court of Gentiles. Barak made his way to the moneychangers to exchange some of his coins for Tyrian shekels, the only coins acceptable for temple offerings.

  As he waited his turn, he gazed around him at the crowds of people. Anger rose inside him at the array of obvious Gentiles. Even Roman generals were known to offer sacrifices here for their victories in battle. Thank Jehovah they could not go beyond this court. The Temple was defiled enough by their mere presence.

  A glint of gold caught his attention and he found himself watching two young women across the street. One was a dark beauty, her excitement making her eyes glow with an almost fever pitch. The other was just as dark, her long hair hanging below her waist, and she was without adornment save the sparkling gold Star of David hanging from her neck that had first caught Barak’s attention.

  For a moment, Barak found himself intrigued. It was unusual to see a woman nowadays who wore so little jewelry. Even the girl standing next to her was covered from head to foot with gleaming bracelets, ankle chains, necklaces, and hair combs.

  The star proclaimed the girl’s Hebrew heritage, but Barak knew it was a rare thing for women to sport such a trinket. Her face was perfect of feature, but plain compared to that of her lively friend.

  When the girl turned, her hazel eyes meshed with his own, and Barak realized that, although the girl wore a Jewish symbol, she had obvious Gentile blood. A Samaritan, no doubt! His own eyes grew cold with anger; the girl studied him a moment longer before turning away.

  “Do you know them?”

  Pulled from his thoughts, Barak turned back to his friend. “No. No, I don’t know them.”

  Adonijah’s own gaze was riveted to the flashing-eyed beauty. “Have you ever seen such beauty? Even Miriam would find it a hard contest to win, and I thought I had never seen anyone as beautiful as she.”

  One dark eyebrow rose as Barak contemplated the two. “They’re Samaritans, I think.”

  Adonijah’s look turned from one of admiration to one of disgust. “Samaritans! And they are headed for our holy Temple.”

  The two girls were indeed making their way across the street toward the Court of Gentiles.

  A loud commotion from the other end of the street caused them to pause, and as Barak watched, an out-of-control chariot came careening down the street.

  People screamed as they moved quickly out of the way, leaping and jumping like frightened frogs.

  The two girls had moved swiftly to th
e side when they saw what was happening, but at the last moment a little child moved into the street intent on reaching his mother on the opposite side. Unaware of the danger to himself, he toddled right into the path of the oncoming chariot.

  Barak sucked in a sharp breath, but before he could react, the Samaritan girl ran into the street, snatched the child into her arms, and threw him to a man on the other side of the street. There was no way she could make it back to her side of the street. The horses from the chariot were only feet away.

  Moving like lightning, Barak ran toward her, diving. Almost as though time had slowed down, Barak felt himself leave the ground, wrap his arms around the woman, and roll with her to the other side of the street.

  Seconds later the wind from the rushing chariot brushed across their inert forms. Barak shoved the girl’s face hard into his chest, ducking his head at the same time, as he waited for the wheels to go by.

  For a moment, all sound ceased, and then in the next instant it rushed back upon them. People were running toward them, wildly gesticulating.

  Barak slowly released the woman from his crushing grip, lifting himself up and away on his forearms until he could look down into her eyes. She lifted her head from his chest, her hazel eyes wide with wonder.

  It seemed a long time they lay thus, searching each other’s eyes, but it was only seconds later that the crowd reached them.

  Several men helped Barak to his feet, brushing him down and praising God for his heroic deed, but Barak was trying to reach the girl to see if she was unharmed. For the time being, he had forgotten that she was a Samaritan.

  Adonijah joined the crowd ringing the two. His face deathly white, he insistently questioned Barak about his well-being while trying to maintain his hold on the struggling lamb.

  “I am well,” Barak assured everyone around him.

  He felt a light touch on his arm and turned to find the woman he had just saved staring solemnly up at him. “Thank you,” she told him, her voice quivering. “I know that is inadequate, but I thank you anyway.”

  The frightening experience had turned her eyes from an almost brown to a shimmering green. It was this that brought home to Barak again that she was a Samaritan.

  Nodding his head briefly, he turned to leave. What made him turn his head at the last moment he was unsure of, but as he did so, he saw the girl place a hand to her forehead and begin to reel giddily as she tried to walk away. The next moment she was pitching forward and Barak leaped to catch her.

  Lifting her into his strong arms, he called for assistance. The girl’s friend touched his arm, her eyes wide with fright.

  “This way,” she told him, indicating that he should follow.

  By rights, he should just leave the woman here for someone else to deal with, but he knew he could not do that. Turning to Adonijah, he directed him to take the lamb to the Temple for the sacrifice. “I will return as soon as I am able.”

  Adonijah was less than pleased. Never before had he been to the Temple to offer sacrifice, and he was unsure just what was expected of him. Still, it was obvious that Barak expected to be obeyed. Besides, if they missed the sacrifice, they would also miss Passover. Nodding, he turned to do as he was told and he began pushing his way through the slowly dispersing crowd of people.

  Barak had a hard time keeping up with the girl he was following. His sandals slapped against the pavement stones, and with each step the girl was leading him farther from the Temple. The crowd surged around him on all sides, and if some looked at him with astonishment, he chose to ignore them.

  A moan reached him from the girl in his arms, and he found himself once again staring into the most unusual eyes he had ever seen. Her head lolled back against his arm, and when she spoke, he had to lean closer to hear.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Barak’s lip curled wryly. “I have no idea.”

  Before she had a chance to say more, the girl ahead of him turned and passed through the gates of the Upper City. Barak grew more uncomfortable as they passed large villas and tree-lined streets. The crowd had thinned as they entered this area where the wealthy lived.

  “Put me down. I can walk now.”

  Ignoring her, Barak continued on, holding the girl firmly against her ineffectively weak struggles. He knew if he put her down, she would most likely find herself face forward on the ground. As she continued to strain against his hold, he was sorely tempted to do as she wished. The thought that he was even touching a Samaritan was enough to make him shake his head with disgust.

  “Be still,” he commanded, and it had the effect of bringing the girl to instant submission. Surprised, he glanced down at her again only to find himself pierced by fiery darts of anger shooting from incensed eyes.

  Spoiled was the word that came to his mind.

  The sun burned against his back and beads of sweat began to form on his brow. Although the girl was light, she was becoming a leaden weight in his arms as they traveled. He was just beginning to think that he would indeed have to put her down when the girl ahead stopped and opened a large iron gate leading into a courtyard of one of the larger villas.

  Barak followed her through the gate and was instantly engulfed by the coolness of the shade trees lining the path to the door. Sighing with relief, he shifted the girl in his arms. He looked down at her again and found her attention on the house as they approached. Except for that one time, she had refrained from speech.

  Before he reached the steps leading to the colonnaded entryway, the door was flung open and two men came down the steps.

  The older man was overweight and puffed his way to Barak’s side, while the younger man, dark and of obvious Arab distinction, ambled down the steps in his wake.

  “Anna! Anna, what has happened?”

  The older man’s scruffy white eyebrows almost disappeared under his turban, his hands flailing about in agitation.

  “Put her down.” Although the Arab spoke with authority, Barak was unmoved. His chin set with instant stubbornness. There was no way he would allow an Arab to command him.

  As the Arab drew closer, Barak felt the girl in his arms shrink against him and realized that she was afraid of the dark man. And with good reason, it would seem. The Arab’s small eyes glittered strangely as they went from the girl to Barak.

  “Uncle,” the other girl intervened. “Anna was almost run over by a chariot in the marketplace. This young man saved her life at great peril to his own.”

  Surprised, the old man faced Barak. “My son. How can I ever repay you?”

  Slowly, Barak allowed Anna to slide to her feet, but he kept a protective arm around her waist. The Arab was less than pleased. He moved to take Anna from Barak, but the girl twisted from his grasp and went to the old man instead. He wrapped her in beefy arms, cuddling her close.

  “Father. I am all right now.”

  Again the old man’s eyes sought out Barak. “What would you have as your reward?”

  The Arab’s sullen gaze wandered over Barak from head to toe. There was a strange animosity in his stare that took Barak by surprise. “You’re a Jew, are you not?”

  There was no disguising the sneer in the Arab’s voice. Barak pulled himself up to his full height and froze the man with his look. Turning to the older man, he addressed himself to him. “I seek no reward. What I did, I would have done for anyone.” He turned to leave, but the girl reached out, placing a detaining hand on his forearm.

  “What is your name?”

  Surprised, Barak glanced from her to where her hand lightly rested on his arm. With slow deliberateness, he pulled from her touch, giving her a speaking glance.

  Her father nodded. “Yes. We would have a name to place on you.”

  For a minute, Barak thought of refusing. It was the small smile on the lips of the Arab that changed his mind. “I am Barak, son of Ephraim.”

  The old man smiled. “A fine Jewish name. I am Tirinus, of Sychar. And this is my daughter, Anna, and her cousin, Pisgah.” He tu
rned to the Arab. “This is a business associate of mine, Amman.”

  Amman moved forward, his look intentionally insulting. “And Anna’s betrothed.”

  Anna’s head snapped up, her mouth open in instant denial, but her father spoke first. “Well, not yet. But if everything goes well, soon that will be true.”

  The fact that Anna seemed less than enthusiastic about the situation, even frightened by it, bothered Barak for some unknown reason. His look went to each member of the group before settling once again on Anna.

  “If you will excuse me now, I must return to the Temple.”

  Ripping a huge ruby ring from his finger, Tirinus held it out to Barak. “Please. Take this as a memento of our sincerest thanks.”

  Barak’s hands remained firmly at his sides. “I think not. Offer your thanks to Jehovah. Good day.”

  He turned on his heels and left them standing there. Four pairs of eyes watched him disappear through the gate and back into the street, one pair glittering with malevolence.

  ❧

  With something akin to panic, Anna watched the young Jew leave. She knew Amman’s eyes were staring at her, and her skin crawled at the thought of having him touch her.

  “Anna, Anna. The boy was right! Thank the Lord that he protected you today.” Her father placed a loving arm around her and one around Pisgah, unthinkingly omitting Amman from their company.

  The Arab followed them inside, his dark gaze moving from one to the other. Anna could feel his eyes on her back and shivered.

  “Father, I am still a little shaky. I would like to go to my room now.”

  Tirinus became instantly concerned. “Of course, my dear. Amman was hoping to have your company, but I am sure he understands.”

  Amman smiled knowingly at Anna. Yes, she could see that he understood all too well.

  “Rest assured,” he told her, “I wish you all health. I will still be here when you have recovered.” There was a threat in his voice that was missed by all save Anna. Amman’s eyes promised retribution for her rejection of him.

  Somehow, Anna had to find a way to dissuade her father from making this marriage contract.