Something seemed to amuse her, for she did a quick, waltzing step and landed on the well cover with her hands on her hips and looked around at the rest of the shepherds with a saucy challenge. “I see that none of you were able to lift the stone,” she said in a slow, confident voice.
Jacob saw this as an opportunity to get acquainted. He stepped out from the group of shepherds and with one swift movement lifted her from the stone. Then with a surge of strength that surprised even him, he rolled the huge stone aside. Without waiting for her reaction, he reached for a leather bucket he had noticed hanging from the limb of a nearby tree and lowered it again and again into the well as he drew water for her sheep.
When her sheep were all watered, he threw his head back and drank hungrily of the water before handing it to one of the other shepherds.
Rachel had been standing to one side observing everything with admiration but was totally taken aback when Jacob turned, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. He held her at arm’s length and studied her face with obvious approval. “There,” he said. “I’ve set the record straight, evened things up I should say.”
Rachel pulled away and pretended to straighten her gown, while all the time she was looking at him sideways, out of the corner of her eye. “Who are you?” she asked. “Surely we have no such impetuous men in Haran.”
Jacob laughed. “Of course you don’t. But I’m your cousin. The son of your aunt Rebekah.”
Rachel gasped and then laughed. “I remember Aunt Rebekah drew the water and watered all your father’s camels. There were ten of them.”
“Exactly,” Jacob said, smiling with pleasure that she understood.
Without another word, she blushed and pushed back her curls, toppling the wreath of daisies from her head. Then she turned and, forgetting her sheep, ran toward the village.
Jacob looked around at the shepherds and motioned for them to come water their animals. “Are all my uncle’s daughters so lively?” he asked.
“He has only two unmarried daughters,” one of the men volunteered.
“And you say he has many sons?”
“Yes. But then he has had many wives. His youngest and favorite wife gave birth to only the two girls.”
“If he has sons, why should such a beauty be out here with the sheep?”
“You might say,” one of the men leaned forward to whisper, “your uncle’s hiding her out here with the sheep.” Jacob looked around at the shepherds who were now clustered around him and noted that they were all old and weathered. No wonder it took them all together to lift the stone from the well.
By the time Laban appeared, Jacob had gleaned a brief history of his situation. “His first wife brought him great riches,” they began, “but gave him only one son.” She was still alive but was rarely seen. His other wives and concubines had given him many sons who were now engaged in the family business of trading, wine making, and producing wool cloth from the shearings of the sheep. The last wife was young and shapely but was ill-tempered because she had been able to produce only the two girls. However, everyone agreed that Laban loved her the most.
“Here comes your uncle now with several of his sons,” one of the shepherds said.
Jacob turned and saw several men hurrying toward him. He knew the thin, important looking man who led the way must be his uncle Laban. He had a staff that helped him navigate the rocks and boulders of a shortcut he had chosen in his excitement. Jacob ran to meet him and was immediately swept into his uncle’s strong embrace. He was aware of the wiry strength of this man and the faint odor of costly sandalwood, as well as the flash of large rings on the fingers that dug into his arms.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Laban exclaimed boisterously as he led Jacob back toward the village and the family home. Things happened so fast that it was only after they were settled in a dim, musty room off a large courtyard that Jacob got a good look at his uncle.
The shutters had been flung back so that light flooded in through two narrow windows and full upon the face of Laban. His head was shaved, his beard trimmed and fashioned to a point, making his face seem long and angular, but it was his eyes that Jacob noted with surprise. They seemed unusually large and slightly protruding. This gave him the look of an almost deceptive innocence and generosity.
Jacob noted that he was dressed in the same style of clothes his grandfather had worn on special occasions, who said it was the way they had all dressed in Ur before the trouble. It was a long fringed cloak pulled to one side, leaving one shoulder bare, and held in place on his other shoulder by a large, dull, silver toggle pin. His knee-length skirt was also fringed. Jacob remembered hearing that only the wealthy city dwellers could wear such things.