The dream had come to Ophiram in the night, but this time it had a sense of urgency that the other two had not. The dream first came about two months after his betrothed had been bitten by a poisonous snake and died suddenly. Each occurrence of the dream was the same, yet different. A maiden stood outside the gates of Kedesh and beckoned to him. In the first dream she had stood at a distance, veiled and demure. But as he drew closer, Ophiram had looked directly into large brown eyes full of entreaty and promise. During the next month, those eyes had intruded on his consciousness during his waking hours.

The second dream had come a month later. The maiden again stood outside the city gates and beckoned, but this time her veil was lowered. He clearly saw the slender face, swarthy skin, high cheek bones, and a strangely slender, short nose for a Israelite girl. Still, Ophiram was certain she was an Israelite. One long, curly stray hair had escaped from under her headpiece and fell invitingly down her right cheek. Again the eyes were bright with promise, but strangely haunting.

This third time she stood without headpiece or veil, a mane of long raven-black curls framing the becoming face. As she beckoned, a sudden desert wind blew her hair wildly, molding her tunic momentarily against her slender frame, revealing a feminine shape. This time her eyes beseeched him to hurry and come. Before her beckoning hand had been languid. Now her hand clamored for attention, as though he had delayed too long.

Unable to shake the feeling of urgency created by the dream, Ophiram decided to go into Kedesh and consult with his eldest brother who had left in the wee hours to take wares to the town market. The family lived in a group of one-room clay huts on the land their ancestors had inherited after the conquest of Caanan. Their father, Zorah, had died following a battle with Aram raiders several years before, and Manoah had become the head of the family. As each of the four sons had married, they had built a hut near the one occupied by Manoah, his wife, his mother and Ophiram, the youngest child. The girls had already married and moved into the homes of their husbands.

Ophiram too had begun to build in preparation for his wedding. The partially completed clay hut stood unfinished and open to the elements. The walls were beginning to crumble under the onslaught of the elements. When his betrothed had died, he saw no reason to roof the one room dwelling. He had no desire to live there alone and had no immediate prospects for a wife. The walls could be repaired and a roof could easily be added, if and when Ophiram had need of a home.

Mostly the family was self-sufficient, but Manoah had learned the potter's trade and begun selling his wares at the Kedesh market once a week. Sometimes Ophiram would accompany him and bring honey he had gleaned from the hives he tended or produce from the garden, if it were a season of plenty. The hides and meat from the game he killed were used by the family and were not sold in the market. The other two boys were herders, tending the family flocks. Since flock size was often an indication of wealth, the family only sold stock occasionally and only to those who came seeking because the reputation of the quality flock had spread. When they sold, they did not need to take their stock to market, the buyers came to them and paid excellent prices for their animals.

As Ophiram came in sight of Kedesh, noon was approaching. He expected the gates to be vacant and the outside of the city quiet in the heat of the day. No one came to the well outside the gates at midday. Unless there was urgent business, the men didn't gather at the gates until the cool of the evening. But today was evidently not an ordinary day. A large crowd of men was gathered outside the gate. At the front of the crowd sat a foreigner, obviously an Aram official, atop a camel. But the official was not the object of attention. The men were looking intently at something, or someone, standing in front of the camel. They spoke to one another in low murmurs. The agitated sound carried on the wind but with no distinguishable words.

Ophiram was tall for an Israelite, standing head and shoulders above most of his brethren. His family often joked that he must have some stray Amorite blood in him, since the early Israelite spies saw the Amorites as giants. Usually this feature made him self-conscious in a crowd, and so he preferred to spend time in more solitary pursuits. Today, however, he was glad of the height because he could look over the heads of the townsmen and see the cause of the commotion. They were paying no attention to him anyway; all were focused on the small form standing near the imposing camel.

There standing in front of the milling crowd was the girl of Ophiram's dreams. It was unmistakably the same girl. When he involuntarily gasped at her appearance, no one in the crowd noticed, but the girl raised her eyes as though expecting to find a familiar face above the crowd. Momentarily their gazes locked, and he saw the same recognition in the depths of the large brown eyes that he knew was in his own blue ones. The eyes seared his soul, beseeching him for help. How he could help her he didn't know until she dropped her eyes, and he was freed from his trance to listen to the conversation around him.

An old man stepped from the crowd. "I am Nemuel. If the girl's father was truly Nahbi of the tribe of Judah, then her family land is outside the gates of Kedesh about a half-day's journey. Nahbi is a cousin, but none of Nahbi's immediate family is known to have survived the raid and the fire that destroyed their property. However, only three sets of bones were recovered from the burned hut, while four people were known to live there. It's possible this young woman is Nahbi's daughter, Baara, as she claims. She was young when her family was killed and would have matured in the years since."

The man astride the camel answered in heavily accented Aramaic. "I was the leader of the raid of which you speak. The purpose was to take livestock and decimate crops, not slaughter humans. The owner of the property caught some of my men as they herded away his cattle. He killed one of them. The others avenged the murder by killing the man, as is the custom in a blood-avenging. Unfortunately they went further, also killing his wife and son. I came upon the carnage after they set fire to the house and captured this girl. I claimed the captive and raised her in my household as a servant to my wife. Because of her advice, I have been cured of leprosy by your Prophet Elisha and have become a worshipper of Yahweh. While Baara is always welcome in my home where she is treated as a daughter, she wished to return to her homeland and claim the property from which my men wrested her. She said there is a custom handed down by your ancestral leader Moses whereby a girl can receive the family inheritance if she marries within her tribe. Her mother taught her the story of Mahlah, one of five daughters who successfully protested the custom whereby a man's property was not passed on to his daughters should he die without male heirs. I have brought her to the gates of the city at her request to search for a husband of her tribe who is willing to settle on her father's land."

While those gathered murmured among themselves, a voice cried from the back of the crowd, "Remove her veil and headpiece. Let us see what you are offering as a bride."

Without pause or shame, the girl reached up and swept her veil and headpiece from her head. As she did, a sudden desert wind arose blowing her riotous curls wildly about her head just as the in the dream. As Ophiram stood transfixed, Nemuel spoke again.

"I am a cousin and an old man. I would make the girl my fifth wife and promise that her children would inherit the land of her father Nahbi. I'm too old to consider uprooting my large family and moving them to the land she wishes to claim."

For the first time since Ophiram's arrival, the girl asked permission to speak. "I know I'm only a female, but I have been visited by an angel in a dream. I was assured by Yahweh's messenger that if I returned home, I would be granted my father's inheritance and would live out my years on my father's land. While I appreciate the sacrifice Nemuel is offering to make on my behalf, I don't believe his offer is what I was promised."

As several in the crowd snickered at the idea of an angel appearing to a girl or Yahweh bothering with someone so insignificant, a voice came from the back of the crowd, "Did this angel show you what your supposed affianced would look like? Why don't you simply point him out and end the suspense."

As the crowd broke into raucous laughter, the girl once again raised her eyes above the crowd, silently beseeching Ophiram to end her torment. Then another voice called out, "How do we know this girl is even a virgin? We need to bring one of the women out to take her in and examine her. None of our tribe would be willing to marry a girl despoiled by foreign soldiers. We all know many of the raiders rape their captives."

At this the man on the camel must have given a slight signal, causing the camel to kneel so his rider could dismount. The precautionary measure was unnecessary. Rather than hanging her head in shame at the crude comment as one would expect, the girl squared her shoulders and looked her accuser in the eye. "I am a virgin, thanks to Naaman," she said gesturing to the man on the kneeling camel. "He stopped his soldiers from defiling me after the raid. He took me home where I served his wife for the last six years. If the man Yahweh has prepared for me is here, he will not hesitate to claim me and my inheritance. Yahweh will have given him the same assurance God gave me."

"My offer still stands," Nemuel responded.

"That won't be necessary," Ophiram found himself almost shouting as he made his way from the back of the crowd, his eyes locked on those of Baara. "My mother's mother was the sister of Nahbi's grandfather. I am of the same tribe and lineage. I am Ophiram, the youngest son of Zorah who later died of injuries suffered in the Aram raid when Nahbi was killed and his home fired. You all know my brother Manoah who sells his potter's wares in the market. I claim this woman as my betrothed. She has come to me three times in a dream beckoning me to the gates of Kedesh. The third appearance was last night, and there was such urgency in her beckoning that I came today to discuss the meaning of the dream with my brother as he sells in the market. While an angel didn't appear in my dreams, this woman appeared three times in the last three months. If she will have me, I'm willing to build us a hut on her father's land and leave my ancestral home."

Without taking her eyes from Ophiram's face, Baara reached behind her and touched the neck of her protector's camel.

"He's the one," she said simply.

As Ophiram reached the front of the crowd, he stood behind Baara and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. Facing the crowd of men gathered outside the gates, he asked, "Does anyone contest this woman's claim to Nahbi's inheritance? Is anyone opposed to the marriage?"

Raising his hand, Nemuel said, "Perhaps a decision should be delayed until Manoah can be summonsed, and he can talk some sense into the besotted young man. Obviously her comely appearance and the recent death of his betrothed has caused him to take momentary loss of his senses. He should at least allow a midwife to examine her before pledging himself to her."

"That won't be necessary," a voice said calmly from the edge of the crowd nearest the gate. "I'm here already and have heard my brother's statement. He has had repeated visions of this woman beckoning him to the gates of the city, and I trust him to interpret his dreams as Yahweh directs. If he is prepared to marry Baara and move onto her ancestral land, he has my blessing. I'm sure my mother will add her blessing when the news reaches her," Manoah concluded.

At this Nemuel spoke to the crowd, "Spread the word. When it begins to cool before sundown, we will meet here at the city gates to decide if this girl's claim is valid." Then turning to Naaman, he added, "You, sir, are invited to come and present the girl's claim. Even though it is her claim, as a woman she can't present her own case at a formal gathering of judgment. Since she has no kin and you are her protector, you must act on her behalf."

"As you wish," Naaman replied. "I will return this evening."

As the crowd dispersed, Naaman stepped from the camel's back and addressed Ophiram. "I would request that you, and your brother – if he can leave his wares," he inclined his head in a slight bow to Manoah, "return to our camp and partake of our hospitality. Perhaps you can better acquaint me with your laws. Baara has told my wife Maacah and I the story of Mahlah, but she was uncertain of the details of how such a claim is made. We are also ignorant of your wedding customs. Baara was too young when she was captured to have attended a wedding celebration and could not provide much information about how your customs differ from those of the Armenians. As a worshipper of Yahweh, I want to make certain the marriage is acceptable in His eyes."

As Naaman spoke to Ophiram, Baara was intensely aware of the hands that continued to rest on her shoulders. His hands seemed to burn an imprint into her shoulders and her whole upper body seemed to be on fire. She was finding it hard to concentrate on Naaman's words and her breathing became shallow as she fought to keep her wits about her while the man of her dreams clasp her shoulders possessively.

Naaman finally suggested, "Why don't we place Baara on the camel? You and I can walk and become better acquainted."

Ophiram immediately acquiesced. Dropping his hands from her shoulders to her slender waist, he effortlessly picked her up and placed her unceremoniously on the camel's back. As Naaman signaled the camel to rise and they began the short journey to where they had set up camp, Baara fumed at being treated with such callous disregard.

"Why," she complained to herself, "you would think I am not even here. I know I could not walk beside the men and discuss things, but did he have to deposit me here like a sack of grain without so much as a by-your-leave?"

By the time they reached camp, Baara's cheeks were red with spots of anger, and her usually tranquil eyes were black pools of fury. When the camel knelt, she bolted from his back before the confused Ophiram could stoop to lift her down. Purposefully catching his eyes, she gave him a look designed to make water boil and then turned on her heel and disappeared into Maacah's tent.

Turning to Naaman in confusion, Ophiram asked, "Did I do something wrong? If those eyes had been daggers, they would have cut me to shreds. Is her nature always so volatile? When my eyes met hers over the crowd at the gate, they virtually begged me to come to her rescue. I saw recognition and invitation in their depths. Now they seem to condemn me. How am I supposed to wed a woman who looks at me with such hatred?"

Shrugging, Naaman said laconically, "She's a woman, son. The day is hot. She was under a great deal of stress in front of the city gates. I imagine she was just overcome by the magnitude of it all. She is usually even-tempered and forgiving. I am sure whatever is bothering her can easily be smoothed over."

Inside the tent, Baara poured out her hurt feelings to Maacah.

"How can men be such unfeeling jerks?" Baara fumed. "He was there and just like Yahweh promised, I knew he was the one. When I met his eyes over the crowd and recognized the intense blue gaze from my dreams, I knew. Mutely I begged him to come to my rescue and claim me as his bride. And he did. He shouted down the other men, telling them I had appeared to him three times in a dream beckoning him to the city gates. He said last night the dream was so vivid and urgent that he came to town to discuss the dream with his brother. But he never made it to the market to talk to Manoah. The crowd outside the city gates discussing my future waylaid him. He ignored their suggestions that he have me examined by a midwife before claiming me as his betrothed. He pushed his way to the front and stood behind me, his hands possessively on my shoulders and practically dared them to oppose the marriage. Then," Baara sputtered, "then he started talking to Naaman like I wasn't even there. When the master suggested he come here to discuss how to make my land claim, he deposited me on the back of the camel like a sack of grain. He didn't even tell me he planned to pick me up. He just grabbed me around the waist and slung me into the saddle without even looking at me."

As Baara's tirade wound down, Maacah soothed, "Now, child, don't get so wrought up. You know he couldn't speak to you in public. You know all negotiations have to be made between the men. We women normally are not allowed any say concerning our marriage. At least you were able to petition Naaman to bring you here."

"I know, Maacah," Baara said dejectedly. "But he touted tradition to claim me in front of the men of the town. I guess I thought he would at least be courteous enough to warn me before lifting me onto the camel. It was such a let down. After he looked me in the eyes and held my gaze while he fought his way through the crowd, I thought he might be different than other men. I thought maybe he would be like Naaman, that he would care about what I thought and felt. I thought he might treat me with respect like Naaman treats you, or at least treat me like a human being. I guess I have foolishly dreamed of having a man love me the way Naaman loves you. But I guess living my days out on my ancestral land will have to be enough. I should have known expecting love and respect would be too much to ask."

"Now, now," Maacah murmured, hugging the distraught girl to her chest and then holding her at arms length and looking into her eyes. "You know that Naaman and I did not start out with love and respect. Remember how he treated me in front of his parents when his betrothed rejected him. It took time to build a relationship, Baara. It took time and work. We had to learn how to love one another, how to meet one another's needs. You and Ophiram have not had that opportunity. You saw each other today for the first time – at least for the first time outside your dreams. You didn't even know he really existed until you saw him through the crowd. You both probably have some unrealistic expectations, but those can be overcome. Give him time, child. Get to know the real man before you condemn him. He probably was feeling as awkward as you were once the tension was over and the crowd dispersed. His bravado gone, he merely took refuge in the familiar. When Naaman suggested you ride, he probably was suddenly aware that his hands still rested possessively on your shoulders. Feeling humiliated and like he had acted in too familiar a manner, he picked you up quickly and put you in the camel saddle. I doubt he intentionally ignored you; but being male, he could not address you personally in public. Not knowing how to extricate himself gracefully, he probably just put you on the camel hoping to hide any feelings resting his hands on your shoulders may have aroused."

The tale-tell swarthiness colored Baara's skin as she dropped her eyes in embarrassment, demanding, "And what makes you think having his hands on my shoulders aroused any feelings in him?"

With a musical chuckle, Maacah placed her hand under the girl's chin and lifted her face so she could gaze into her eyes. "He wouldn't be a man if touching a comely young woman didn't arouse some sort of emotion in him. And by the color of your complexion, I suspect his touch may have had some effect on you as well, didn't it, child? Is that the reason for the anger?"

Seeing both amusement and compassion in Maacah's eyes, Baara stomped her foot. "Oh-h-h-h, you see too much, mistress. His hands seemed to burn into my shoulders. My lungs were on fire as surely as if I was breathing in fumes from hot flames. I could hardly breathe, and my vision seemed to blur. I thought maybe he was feeling something similar, and then the next thing I know, he's plunking me down on a camel without even warning me. It was humiliating!"

"You've known worse humiliation in your short life," Maacah reminded. "Give the young man a chance before you condemn him as an unfeeling oaf."