The next morning, Bunah told Naaman of Baara's invitation and asked to impose on his hospitality for another day. Naaman was delighted for him to stay for the betrothal, even extending an invitation for him to remain for a fortnight until time for the wedding feast. Bunah demurred, indicating that he needed to return home and extend Baara's invitation to his brother and nephew.

"I will return in my wedding finery," Bunah said with a grin. Then sobering he added, "I don't really think Pallu will come. He is so preoccupied with business; it is difficult to pry him away. I don't even know if he will be home when I get there. I told this to Baara, but I don't think she believed me. Try to encourage her not to get her hopes up."

While Naaman picked Bunah's brain concerning the worship of Yahweh, Maacah took Baara into the sleeping tent. Opening a camel's saddle she took out a dress of beautiful, wine- colored silk. The bodice of the dress had strips of cream lace sewn in a geometric pattern. The sleeves were long and wide, coming to a point six inches below the hand on the side nearest the body. The girdle was a foot in width, smooth and fitted, not twisted cloth like those worn by most women for daily wear. It was cream colored with tiny burgundy flowers embroidered in a vine pattern across it. Green stems and leaves were intricately interwoven. Sewn into a band at the top and bottom of the girdle were squares of gold. The headpiece matched the girdle, rather than the vest. It had a tall cap in the front and a band that would fit tightly across the forehead. Sewn into and adorning the band were eight squares of gold identical to those encircling the waist on the girdle. The veil was a soft lace in the same cream color of the girdle and headpiece. This lacy piece was attached to the headpiece on one side so it could be left free or pulled across the face. Veils and headpieces for poorer women were always one and the same. The woman simply pulled the headpiece across the bottom of her face when in public. The style and adornment of this dress definitely proclaimed wealth.

As Maacah held up the dress, girdle and veil, Baara gasped, "It is beautiful, mistress. Is this what you plan to wear for the wedding?"

With a smile Maacah said, "What? And outshine the bride on her day of days? Hardly, Baara. This is your wedding dress."

At this pronouncement, Baara gulped, turned pale, and sat down abruptly on the camel stool behind her. Her movement was so quick and unexpected that she was unable to hold her seat and ended up sprawled askew on the ground. Laughing at herself, Baara sat up and peered up at her startled mistress.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Did you say that beautiful, gold adorned outfit is to be my wedding dress?"

"That's right," Maacah said with a smile. "I sewed the golden squares into the girdle and headband myself. Don't you like it?"

"It's beautiful," Baara breathed out in awe. "But to give me such a wedding dress is far too generous. You and Naaman have done more than enough bringing me here. I don't want you to go to further expense."

"Baara," Maacah responded laughing, "don't you remember I told you that Naaman would use the reward money the Prophet Elisha turned down as a reverse dowry of sorts. That means you have a lot of gold and silver. There are also eight sets of men's clothes that you can give Ophiram and his brothers."

"When you said it would be a dowry, I thought you meant you would pay it to the family of whomever I marry," Baara replied. "I thought Naaman would have to pay someone to marry an ex-slave."

"Well, that is what we thought, too, at first," Maacah acknowledged. "And had we stayed in Damascus, that probably would have been the case. But when we brought you here, things changed. You are no longer a destitute slave. You are considered a sort of adopted child of a wealthy and important man. You are also a landowner, since you will inherit your father's property. But even if you had married in Damascus, you would not have gone into marriage a pauper. I had already taken this gold from the stash and sewn it into the garment. After all, a woman has to have protection in case something happens and she is widowed or divorced. Besides," Maacah said, running her hand over the gold in the girdle, "this is only a small part of the dowry. There are still thousands of shekels of gold and six talents of silver left."

"Thousands?" Baara murmured disbelievingly. "I expected to go into the marriage a pauper and instead I have wealth beyond my imagination."

"Well, perhaps not as much as I implied," Maacah retracted. "There was that much left in the reward money, but Ophiram did not want to enter into an arrangement where his wife brought everything to the union and he nothing. Manoah agreed to accept some of the precious metals to pay for an elaborate wedding feast. He also agreed to take enough to enlarge his kiln and buy pack mules so he can sell his pottery in distant markets. This compensates for the loss of Ophiram on the family farm. He has been the beekeeper and hunter for the family. He has also been the one who planted and harvested. Since he will be moving away to his own holding, the family will sustain a loss similar to that a woman's family usually suffers when a daughter marries."

"So Naaman is paying a groom price?" Baara asked giggling.

"That isn't what it is being called, for diplomatic reasons," Maacah warned, grinning. "But you might say that. Naaman told Manoah that Ophiram should keep any bride price he planned to offer, since he has to set up a completely new household. We do not need compensation for the loss of your labor considering we have plenty of other female slaves. He told them to think of his contribution as inadequate compensation for the losses sustained in the raid when your family was killed. The boys' father died of injuries suffered fighting raiders on the same night."

Maacah then showed Baara a box containing silver and gold jewelry. There were several bracelets, some earrings, and a couple of necklaces. One of the gold necklaces was a series of round gold pieces with polished wine-colored stones in the center of every other circle. At the base of the string hung a teardrop shaped stone set in a gold triangle.

"You will also wear these pieces of jewelry," Maacah told the girl. "I bought them for you with some of the reward money."

"I will be decked out like a queen," Baara whispered.

"That is the idea," Maacah said. "On her wedding day, every woman desires to look like a queen. She wears all of her finery for the occasion. Remember, child, a woman normally owns only what she brings to the union on her person. Everything else belongs to the husband. You are different because you will own the land you inherited from your father. If Ophiram were to divorce you, he would lose the land. Most women do not have that insurance."

"I guess that it must take a humble man to enter into such a covenant," Baara said. "It would be hard for a man to know that his wife had that kind of power. I mean, I know most men do not divorce their wives, but they usually can send her away if they simply cannot live with her. They can also take a second wife to gain an heir. In this case, since I am the one who inherited the land, only my child can inherit. That means Ophiram cannot take a second wife to give him a son to inherit, if I have only daughters. It must be unsettling for a man to be thus divested of much of his power."

"True," Maacah said. "Ophiram must be quite taken with you to agree to such a short betrothal under these circumstances. A marriage is not as easily dissolved as a betrothal."

Blushing, Baara said, "Maybe. But he probably is simply following the dictates of Yahweh. A wise man puts his life in God's hands."

"Perhaps," Maacah said smiling. "But you remember I sewed nearby while you and Ophiram talked yesterday. While I couldn't hear what transpired, I saw a great deal," she said cupping her hand under Baara's chin and laughing into her wide eyes.

The rest of the day was spent preparing for the betrothal that would take place the following day. Since it would take Ophiram and his family some time to get to the tents of Naaman, the betrothal would take place just after the noonday rest, with the evening meal being served early so that the family could return to their holdings before nightfall.

Manoah, his brothers, and his mother arrived the next morning shortly before noon. Introductions were made all around. Afterwards the men went into the entertainment tent to rest while the women went to the sleeping tent. Servants then came and bathed the feet of the travelers after which water and fruit were served.

Ophiram's mother, Tamara, sank gratefully onto the goathair mat and leaned against a camel stool, removing her veil as soon as the servant departed. She stretched her long legs, saying ruefully, "Now you know where Ophiram got his height. My father was tall, and unfortunately I inherited the trait. I used to despair of father finding a man who would take such an ungainly woman to wife. No man likes to look down on his woman, or have her outweigh him, for that matter. With a frame this size even if you carry no fat, you rival the weight of many small men."

"But you carry yourself well," Baara said. "You have a very regal bearing."

"Ah," Tamara replied. "So my son marries a diplomat, does he?"

"I, I meant it, mother Tamara," Baara stammered. "Is that how I am to address you?"

"Yes, mother Tamara will do just fine," her future mother-in-law answered. "I am sorry if I disconcert you, Baara. I have a habit of speaking my mind, especially since Zorah died and I have no man to speak for me. I am afraid I am too abrupt and take little time for the niceties expected by polite society. I guess I've been on the farm too long. We are pretty much self-sufficient, and there is little need for me to go to the market. My family tends to overlook my outspokenness. I am sorry."

"There is no need for apology," Baara answered. "I prefer it when someone speaks their mind. I don't like playing games with words."

"Then we should get along just fine," Tamara said. "It is too bad that you and Ophiram will not be moving onto our little enclave. I would like the opportunity to get to know the woman my son is marrying. With you two living so far away, there will be little time for us to get acquainted."

"We can visit," Baara ventured.

"That is a nice sentiment," Tamara noted. "But realistically, I doubt you will have much time to do any visiting. It is not easy to farm. You and Ophiram will not have the benefit of kin to help you with your herding or your planting. You won't be doing much traveling."

"I suppose not," Baara said, "but perhaps your family can spare you from time to time for a visit."

"Perhaps," Tamara said laconically. "We'll see."

At a loss for how to proceed, Baara looked at Maacah in a mute appeal for help. Leaning forward, Maacah offered to refill Tamara's cup of water. Then she suggested, "Baara and Ophiram could probably leave the farm in the hands of servants for a few days to make an occasional visit."

"And how would a young, newlywed couple afford servants?" Tamara countered.

"In this case, I understand it might be possible," Maacah said noncommittally.

"It seems strange to me that a mere servant girl would come to a marriage with both land and wealth," Tamara said pointedly. "My sons are satisfied with the story your husband told them. They relayed the story to me and told me I was not to bring it up, but I have been burned by your people once," she said gesturing to Maacah. "I just hope you are not saddling my son with a spoiled bill of goods to protect your family from ruin. He recently has been hurt by the death of one fiancé. I don't want him to experience a life of pain when he finds out he has wed an imposter. I want to hear it from you, mother to mother. Is this girl truly a virgin or was she involved with a man from your family whose reputation you are trying to protect?"

Turning to Baara who sat staring at Tamara in consternation, Maacah said, "Baara, why don't you take that empty water jar in the corner and go to the well and fetch fresh cool water while Tamara and I talk, mother to mother," she said, ending in a hard, no nonsense tone.

Picking up the jar, Baara quickly fled the tent, in her haste completely forgetting to don her veil.

"You may cloak your rudeness in the pretense of being a socially backward farm woman," Maacah said heatedly, "but what you just did was pure malice. There was no excuse for you bringing up a subject your sons had forbidden in the presence of your future daughter-in-law. If you simply had to satisfy your curiosity, you should have asked that you and I talk alone. I can only assume that you are so loathe to lose your son to another woman who will take him away from your domineering proximity that you attempted to scare her away. If you are not careful you will succeed only in driving your son away. From what I have heard about Ophiram, he is an upright and honorable man. I doubt he would brook such a treatment of his affianced."

While Maacah was berating Tamara, Bunah was watching as Baara hurried from the tent with a water jar. He was the only man sitting facing the front of the tent. When a pause came in the conversation, he said, "I wonder why Baara would be going to fetch water in the heat of the day with her head uncovered?"

At this both Manoah and Ophiram jumped to their feet and turned toward the women's tent, exclaiming in unison, "Mother!"

"If you will excuse us for a moment, sir," Manoah said to Naaman, "I think perhaps we need to find out just what mother is up to. She has the annoying habit of being rather outspoken when she has a mind to."

As the brothers hurried from the tent, Ophiram said to Manoah, "You tend to mother. I am going after Baara."

"Do you think that wise?" Manoah countered.

"Perhaps not," Ophiram answered, "but I'm going anyway. Everyone in Kedesh already probably thinks I'm a strange bird. If someone sees me talking to Baara in public while she is unveiled, it will only add to the impression."

Knowing it would do no good to protest, Manoah stopped outside the women's tent while his brother strode towards the well. As he prepared to call a greeting and enter, he heard his mother saying, "You can call me whatever names you please. But you have no idea what kind of relationship I have with my sons. I will not lose Ophiram by being rude to his betrothed. Now, answer my question."

Hearing this, Manoah cleared his throat loudly, proclaiming, "I am coming in, mother." Sweeping the tent flap aside, Manoah unceremoniously entered the tent, saying, "You may think you cannot lose your son by being rude to his betrothed, mother, but this time you may be wrong. You just may have gone too far. Your outspokenness may have caused a rift in your relationship with Ophiram. When Bunah saw Baara hurrying toward the well, we put two and two together, realizing you had probably ignored our request and broached the subject of Baara's suitability as a bride. While I came here, your youngest went after his affianced. His concern was for the damage you may have inflicted on her, not on assuaging your feelings. When Baara returns, you will apologize for your ill-mannered treatment. You may not care whether or not the girl likes you. You should care about your son's feelings. Whether you like it or not, he plans to wed Baara. Somehow, in a very short time, he has come to love her, mother. If you do not respect that love, you will be the loser, you and the rest of our family. I do not wish for my brother to be estranged from us because of your caustic tongue. Both he and I were satisfied with the explanation Naaman and Baara gave for the physical appearance that she has lost her virginity. Do you understand the situation, mother? As the head of this family, I am telling you to apologize and not to pursue this matter further."

At first staring at Manoah with her mouth open, Tamara finally pressed her lips together in a tight line while she listened to his tirade. When he finished, she bowed her head slightly and said, "As you wish, Manoah. As a mother, I only wanted Maacah's assurance that the girl was really a virgin. I admit I erred in bringing up the subject with the girl present. I will offer an apology when she returns."

"Thank you, mother," Manoah said cryptically. Then turning to Maacah, he added, "I apologize, ma'am, for my mother's uncivil behavior. Since our father's death she has been more caustic than before. He brought out the tender side of her nature. Since his untimely death, she has been bitter, and I have been remiss in not insisting that she keep her tongue in check."

Rising and bowing to Manoah, Maacah said politely, "I accept your apology. I must admit that I thought Tamara to be unnecessarily discourteous. Still, as a mother, I can understand her having concerns. I am sure it is hard to see your son betrothed to a girl who appears out of nowhere with only an enemy soldier to vouch for her veracity."

"You are most gracious," Manoah replied, returning her bow. "Please excuse my intrusion."

Thus saying, he exited, returning to the tent occupied by the men.

After Manoah left, Tamara looked up at Maacah, "I am sorry for my testiness," she said. "I behaved in an inexcusable manner. Manoah is right. Zorah tempered my somewhat perverse nature. I still grieve his loss. Can we start over?"

"I am not the one with whom you need to start over," Maacah noted. "I will be leaving in a short time. It is Baara who you hurt most with your insulting insinuation. She is the one who will be an ongoing part of your life. If she wants to start over, I will follow her lead."

While this scene played out in the tent, another confrontation was taking place at the well. Baara arrived there with a tear-streaked face and began filling her jar. In her mind she kept hearing Tamara's words over and over. As her shocked mind focused on the words, "he recently has been hurt by the death of one fiancé," tears fell anew down her cheeks and her shoulders shook with sobs. As she lowered the bucket into the well for the last time, Ophiram came up behind her and said softly, "Baara."

Startled to hear her name spoken in public by her fiancé, Baara dropped the well bucket, hastily drying her tears on her sleeve. Turning toward Ophiram, she clumsily covered her face with her arm and whispered, "What are you doing here?"

Circling Baara so that he stood with his back to the city between the girl and any prying eyes that might be looking toward the well, he replied, "Bunah saw you leave the tent with the water jar and without your veil. I surmised that mother had said something inappropriate and so I came after you." Smiling at the girl cowering by the well with her arm across her face, he said coaxingly, "You might as well drop your arm, Baara. I have spoken to you before when you were unveiled. Your arm will not hide the fact that you are missing your veil and headpiece if anyone happens to see us. Besides, just the fact that we are together in public before our betrothal is formalized is enough to supply fodder for the gossips."

Dropping her arm, Baara said dejectedly, "I suppose you are right."

Seeing the smudged tear tracks on her cheeks, Ophiram said softly, "I do not know what my mother said. I did not wait to find out. Manoah went to deal with her while I came after you. I can probably guess. Don't let her get to you, Baara. She has been bitter since my father died. I love my mother, but I don't always like her. She does not understand how I can pledge myself to you on the basis of a dream. She thinks my love for you is an infatuation with a vision. She thinks it is a reaction to the untimely death of the woman I was betrothed to before you."

"You were betrothed before?" Baara asked.

Picking up the full water jar, Ophiram said, "Let's head back to camp. I will tell you the story as we walk."

Taking the water jar from his arms, Baara placed it on her head, saying, "At least let me carry this. There is no need to give the gossips more to talk about. I don't want them saying you are henpecked and required to do women's chores before we are even wed."

Laughing, Ophiram said, "Ah, that is much better. I am glad to see your sunny nature reassert itself." Then getting back to the topic of his former fiancé, he continued, "Manoah promised me to a young woman from Hazor. We were betrothed earlier this year. Three months after the betrothal was formalized, she was bitten by a poisonous snake and died. I had already begun building a hut near the house where I live with Manoah's family and mother. After my betrothed died, I didn't even roof the hut. I just left it to the elements. I plunged into my work. I wasn't really thinking about looking for another wife. Two months after she died, you began appearing in my dreams."

"Was it hard when the girl you were promised to died?" Baara asked.

"Yes, and no," Ophiram said. "It was hard to lose the idea of a wife, but I didn't really know her very well. I had never really talked with her. We were just doing what our family's wanted."

"So, you didn't love her?" Baara queried.

"No," Ophiram said, sounding surprised. "I didn't really expect to love her. I was always told that love comes after marriage. As you get to know someone, you learn to love them."

"But you just said you love me," Baara said confused.

"I know," Ophiram said, looking uncomfortable. "And I do. I can't really explain why, but I think I fell in love with you in my dreams. You seemed to need me so. And then when I saw you in person, I felt love for you, not just some vision that disturbed my nights. I tried to convince myself that I was being silly and getting carried away by emotion. But then I had a chance to talk to you. I saw your integrity. I listened to your compassion. I heard of your love for Yahweh. I grew to respect you and with respect came a stronger love."

"Is that why you came after me?" she asked.

"Yes," Ophiram said. "Bunah said you left without a veil. I knew if you went for water with your head bare that you left in haste. For you to venture out bareheaded when you were supposed to be getting acquainted with mother could only mean one thing. It had to mean she had said something to hurt you. I didn't want you hurting over some thoughtless utterance of mother's, so I told Manoah to tend to her and I would come after you. He didn't think it wise, but I didn't care. I had to get to you before whatever poisonous verbiage she uttered did too much damage. What did she say, anyway?" he asked.

"She implied that Maacah had brought me here to save either her marriage, or her son's marriage, from ruin by a hussy," Baara admitted. "She said you were vulnerable right now, and she wanted to make sure you weren't being taken advantage of. She said she wanted to talk to Maacah mother to mother. So Maacah sent me after water. I surmised from her tone that she planned to give Tamara a piece of her mind."

As they came into sight of the camp, Ophiram stopped. Once again shielding Baara from prying eyes by placing himself between her and the camp, he commanded, "Set down the water jar, Baara."

When she complied, he dipped the end of his sleeve into the water. He then carefully wiped her face with his garment, noting, "There is no need to give mother the satisfaction of seeing you with a tear ravaged face." Then letting his fingers softly caress the contours of her face, he said quietly, "I know I cannot keep the rest of your years free of pain, little one. But I will do my best to see that you are hurt no more."

Hearing those words, Baara surrendered to her gentle giant the deepest, protected parts of her heart. While inbred training kept her from declaring her love, her eyes gave Ophiram the message loud and clear.

When he had finished his ministrations, he picked up the water jar tucking it into the crook of one arm, and took her small hand in his. "Come on," he said. "Let's go into the lioness' den."

When they entered the tent, Ophiram dropped Baara's hand while he deposited the water jar in the corner. He then returned and stood beside her and took her hand. Looking down at his mother, he said, "Would you mind standing, mother?"

When Tamara stood, he continued, "I intend to wed Baara, with or without your blessing, Mother. If you cannot treat her civilly, you will not be welcome in our home."

When Baara gasped and started to protest such a harsh attitude, Tamara interrupted, "No, child, do not try to dissuade him. He is right to stand by you and protect you. I was the one that was in the wrong. I acted against his wishes and those of his brother. I acted selfishly, hoping to hurt you and drive you away. I did not want him to move away. I almost lost my son completely. I am sorry for my actions. I hope you will both forgive a headstrong woman."

Assuring Tamara of their forgiveness, Baara and Ophiram both gave her a hug and a kiss. Then Ophiram suggested they all go to the other tent and finish the formal betrothal.

When they were all gathered, Ophiram picked up an ornately carved box resting on one of the camel saddles. Opening the box, he took out a polished olivewood bracelet that was about two inches wide. Standing before Baara, he looked deep into her eyes and spoke the words that would link them together for life: "I carved this bracelet as a token of my esteem for you. I actually started the carving after my second dream. I carved your face here, followed by a camel, a tent, and a deer drinking from a stream. I wasn't sure at the time why I carved the items other than your face, but they just seemed right. Yesterday I completed the carving with my own face. I know now that the camel and the tent represent your journey here. The deer drinking from the stream represents the spiritual quest that led you back to your homeland to seek a husband. It reminds me of when the psalmist said, 'As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs after you.' My face completes the circle that represents our love. I hope our love is as unending as this bracelet. So with this token, you are set aside for me, according to the law of Moses and of Israel."