Ruth shook her head, half in amusement, half in consternation. “I know you love me, Mother, but your esteem for the widow of your son is beyond bounds. How can you possibly think I would be worthy of Boaz? The idea is ludicrous.”
“You were good enough for my son. You’re good enough for Boaz.”
Ruth went back to pouring grain into the earthen container. “Not even if I threw myself at his feet would the man notice me.”
“You don’t think he’s noticed you? Ha. He noticed you long ago.”
“In kindness.”
“More than in kindness. Have you no eyes in your head? He admires you. From too much a distance, but admire you he does.”
“You’re mistaken. He thinks no more of me than he does any other gleaner in his fields.”
“I’ve made it my business to study the man’s manner around you, Ruth. Shouldn’t I look out for your future? His eyes tell the whole story when he sees you returning from the fields.”
“He greets me in the same manner he does all his maidservants. ‘God be with you,’ he says.”
“Do you think a man in his fifties can court a young widow from Moab without tongues wagging? The women would think you a harlot and him an old fool. And the men . . . well, we won’t talk about what they would think. Boaz won’t show himself under any circumstances other than those called upon by our Law.” Leaning forward, Naomi clasped Ruth’s hands and smiled broadly. “But the Law is on our side.”
Ruth looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Boaz is a close relative of ours, and he’s been very kind by letting you gather grain with his workers. He is a compassionate man and would show mercy to anyone in need. But because he is also our close relative, he can be our family redeemer.”
“Family redeemer?”
“God provided a way for widows under His Law. As our family redeemer, Boaz would take you as his wife and give you a son to carry on the name of Mahlon and inherit Elimelech’s portion of the land God promised.”
Ruth’s face flooded with color. “After all he’s done for us already, should we ask him to give me a son to carry on another man’s name? What of his own inheritance?”
“Would it change anything to leave the man be? Boaz has no sons, Ruth. Nor any prospects for begetting them.”
“And you think I should . . .” She stopped, stammered, blushed. “H-he’s one of the elders! Surely he already knows he holds the position of our family redeemer. He hasn’t offered because it isn’t a responsibility he wants.”
“The man is too humble to offer. What would he say to you, my dear? ‘I want to offer my services . . .’? Never in a million years would he say such a thing, nor God allow it. I know Boaz better than you do. I remember him from years past, and I’ve listened to all that my friends have said about him in the years between. He will never approach you about this matter.”
“Because I’m not worthy to be the wife of such a man!”
“No. Because he’s more than thirty years older than you. And because, if I know him at all, he’s waiting for a young man, handsome and with a charmed tongue, to offer you marriage instead.” God forbid. Boaz had stood back and allowed Elimelech to claim her because she’d been swayed by physical appearance and charm. Was Boaz standing back again and waiting until the other relative realized Ruth’s worth? Boaz might even make himself a matchmaker! “Boaz wouldn’t put himself forward if his life depended on it.” Which in Naomi’s eyes it did. “The man would not risk embarrassing you with an unwanted proposition.”
Ruth looked away, her brow furrowed. When she looked back at Naomi, her discomfiture was clear.
“Should I help you find a husband, Ruth? Could you be happily married to Boaz?”
Ruth considered for a long moment. “I don’t know.”
“Saying you don’t know is better than saying a flat no,” Naomi said, satisfied. “Will you trust me if I tell you that Boaz could make you happy? He would do everything in his power to make sure of it.” She saw moisture build in Ruth’s eyes. Before her daughter-in-law could protest, Naomi began explaining her plan. “I happen to know that tonight he will be winnowing barley at the threshing floor. Now do as I tell you—take a bath and put on perfume and dress in your nicest clothes. Then go to the threshing floor, but don’t let Boaz see you until he has finished his meal. Be sure to notice where he lies down; then go and uncover his feet and lie down there. He will tell you what to do.”
Ruth’s face was white, her eyes wide. “Should I do such a bold thing?”
“Trust me, my daughter. Unless you make it known to the man that you want him for a husband, he’ll live out his life the way he is. Should such a man go down to Sheol without sons of his own?”
“And what of you?”
“Me? What about me?”
“If Boaz does take me for his wife, what will happen to you? Should I leave you alone in this cave?”
Naomi’s heart softened. Precious girl! Ruth was a jewel with many facets. Naomi was all the more determined to see her in the proper setting. “Boaz gave you a double portion the first day he met you. Do you think he would leave me out in the cold to fend for myself?” She shook her head and smiled. “If all goes as I’ve prayed, we will all have a future and a hope, Ruth. If the plan succeeds, it will be because God makes it so and not because an old widow has done a bit of matchmaking.”
Ruth let out her breath slowly. “All right,” she said slowly and inclined her head. “I will do everything you say.”
Lowering her head, Naomi was silent a moment, disturbed by Ruth’s solemnity. Ruth was in the springtime of her life; Boaz, autumn. Naomi could understand Ruth’s hesitation, but she was certain Boaz could make her daughter-in-law happy. Still, she pondered. Would this please God, or was she making plans of her own as she had done before?
What am I to do, Lord? Many are the plans of women, but Your will prevails.
Be merciful, Jehovah-rapha. Let us all be healed of our grief and know love again. Let the homeless have a home again, a home where You are master. Boaz will teach my daughter the way of life and uphold her on her journey. I see the loneliness in the man’s eyes, Jehovah-jireh. I see the love there, too. If it be Your will, soften his heart toward Ruth and her heart toward him. If they come together only out of mutual respect and duty, if it please You, Lord, let those feelings grow into love. Build a fire in each of them that will warm them for a lifetime.
* * *
Boaz had the sheaves of barley loaded onto donkeys and carried to the high place near Bethlehem that he’d turned into a threshing floor. Shamash and the young men broke the bundles open and cast the stalks onto the hard-packed earth, where a pair of oxen were driven in a circle, dragging behind them a heavy wooden sledge. The stones fastened to the underside of the sledge crushed the stalks and loosened the grain. Girding his loins, Boaz joined his servants in the work. The air filled with the scents of crushed stalks, oxen, and the hot sun and earth. When the floor was heavy with broken stalks of barley, the oxen were led away and the men took up their winnowing forks.
Boaz pitched grain into the air. The afternoon breeze caught the straw and chaff and whiffed it away while the heavier kernels of barley dropped back to the threshing floor. It was hot, hard work. Over and over, he dug his fork into the piles of threshed grain. Sweat soaked through his tunic and beaded on his forehead. He paused and tied a cloth around his head to keep the perspiration from dripping into his eyes. Bending to his labor, he raised a song of celebration and his servants joined in.
As the threshing progressed, he set workers to gather the straw into piles to be stored and used through the year to fire stoves and feed his animals. When the bits of straw and chaff were too small to be pitched by fork, the men set aside their winnowing forks and used shovels instead. They paused to eat and drink and then returned to work. When the breeze died down, some of the servants waved woven mats to blow the chaff from the barley. Other workers began to purify the grain by sifting. A
s the grain passed through, bits of rubbish were caught in the sieves and thrown away. The darnel grains were removed, for if these weed and tare seeds were left, they would be eaten and cause dizziness and sickness.
The harvest was so plentiful, the work would last for several days. “Enough for today, men!” Boaz called out. His cooks were ready with savory dishes of bean and lentil stew. Trays of fruit were set out, along with plenty of bread and wine. The men relaxed, talked, sang, and laughed as the stars came out.
No lanterns were lit, for the risk of fire was too great.
* * *
Ruth sat some distance from the threshing floor and watched Boaz sing, laugh, and drink with his servants. When the stars came out, she moved closer as the celebrating slowed. When Boaz rose, the gathering broke up. His servants spread out and found places to cover themselves with their mantles for sleep. Work would begin again early in the morning. Ruth watched Boaz lie down beside the pile of grain.
She remained concealed in an outcropping of rocks for another hour. She wanted to be certain all of Boaz’s servants had settled down for the night and were asleep before she came out of her hiding place. She couldn’t risk being seen here. Gossip would spread through Bethlehem like a fire, burning up her reputation. That thought tortured her as she moved slowly, cautiously, toward the place where Boaz slept. Her heart thumped until she felt sick with tension.
When she finally reached him, she hesitated, studying the man in the half-moon light next to the mound of grain. He looked younger, his many responsibilities forgotten in sleep. He lay with one arm flung over his head. Trembling, Ruth knelt at his feet and drew his mantle back carefully so she wouldn’t disturb him. He moved restlessly. Her pulse jumped. She curled up quickly at his feet without making a sound and drew his mantle over her so that the cool night air would not awaken him. Then she released her breath slowly, wishing her heart would slow its wild, erratic pace.
She tried to make herself relax, but how could she with this man so close she could hear his breathing and feel his warmth? She could smell the sweat of his body mingled with the scents of earth, straw, and barley. She remembered how the odor of sickness and fear had clung to Mahlon during the last months of his life. The scent of Boaz’s body was that of life—hard work, the fruit of his labor, the land God had given him. His essence was at once provocative and soothing.
She swallowed and closed her eyes, disturbed by the emotions this great man stirred within her. Putting her hand beneath her cheek, she listened to the sound of her own heart racing in her ears and the slow, even breathing of the man so close his feet were against her back.
* * *
Boaz awakened in the middle of the night and lay still, wondering what had startled him. A dream? He couldn’t remember it. He listened for a long moment, but nothing moved. In fact, there was an uncanny stillness around him. He heard one of the men snoring loudly from the other side of the mound of grain and relaxed. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes, intending to go to sleep again, but instead he came more fully awake as he smelled a sweetness in the air he breathed. He frowned slightly, attentive to it. He breathed in again and thought he had never smelled anything so luscious. Where did it come from? Was an evening breeze bringing the scent of flowers? No, it was too rich and evocative. Like perfume.
When he stretched out his leg, he brushed against someone. The interloper was small and curved. He drew in his breath sharply. Pulling his foot back abruptly, he sat up and threw off his mantle. Who but a harlot would dare come to the threshing floor?
The woman sat up quickly and turned her head toward him. It was too dark to see her face. “Who are you?” he whispered roughly. He didn’t want to awaken anyone.
“I am your servant Ruth.”
His heart began to hammer. “Ruth?” His voice came out choked and confused.
Her voice shook. “Spread the corner of your covering over me, for you are my family redeemer.”
A flood of heat swept through his entire body beginning with the foot that had brushed against her body. He could hardly breathe for the nearness of her and the request she made. Never in the solitude of his wishful thinking had he ever dreamed Ruth would make such a request of him. Did she know his heart had yearned for a wife to love and care for, a wife to walk with him and give him children?
Lord, Lord, how do I ever dare hope for a girl like this? There are obstacles. Is this a test? I must do what’s right rather than do what I want. And You’ve known since the first time I heard about this girl that my heart was softened toward her. Such a woman . . . but, Lord, surely Naomi is aware of the other relative. She must know it’s not my right to fulfill this duty, unless . . . oh, God, give me the strength to do what I should, even if it means seeing another woman I love walk away with another man.
“The Lord bless you, my daughter!” His voice was husky with emotion. He was glad of the darkness so she wouldn’t see the longing and astonishment he felt. Did she understand the kindness she was showing him by coming to him? His head swam. He’d surrendered his hope of ever having a family of his own years ago. God was God, and for whatever reason, He had chosen not to give the blessing of a wife to him. And yet, here, in the middle of the night and cloaked in darkness, a few whispered words from Ruth made Boaz’s hope for a wife and children spring to life again. He forced himself to think, to consider her actions and motives. Surely she had done it for Naomi!
“You are showing more family loyalty now than ever by not running after a younger man, whether rich or poor.”
“You have been kinder to me than anyone, Boaz. Will you put your mantle over me?”
He could hear the tremor in her voice and wanted to reach out to her and reassure her. It was beyond reason that she might love him, but his heart had been fixed upon her firmly from the beginning. He wanted nothing more than to take her as his wife, but was this God’s will?
“Now don’t worry about a thing, my daughter. I will do what is necessary, for everyone in town knows you are an honorable woman.” None more than I, he longed to say. “But there is one problem.”
“A problem?” she said softly, distress clear in her tone.
“While it is true that I am one of your family redeemers, there is another man who is more closely related to you than I am.”
“Another man?”
There was no mistaking the disappointment in her tone. When she moved closer, her hand brushed his leg. She drew back quickly, but not before his body had caught fire. He wasn’t such an old man after all. The power of his feelings for her shook him. He looked around, wondering if anyone had heard them speaking. What disaster would befall her if she were to be discovered here on the threshing floor! His mind raced unwillingly toward advantages to himself if that happened. The other relative would have cause to question her purity. He might then refuse to fulfill his obligations to her on the grounds of her ruined reputation. The entire city would gossip about her and speculate on what had happened between them here tonight. There would be talk for years to come. As much as Boaz wanted her, he would not dishonor her in such a way.
Could he stand before the Lord if he allowed such a thing to happen to Ruth? Could he look into her eyes if he allowed shame to be poured on her because he wasn’t vigilant to do what was right? No! He must protect her reputation, even if it meant giving her up to another man. His heart sank at the thought. Gritting his teeth, he struggled with his desire to have her for himself. But how could he overlook the Law? No matter how much he wanted Ruth, he must obey the Lord.
You know I want her, don’t You, Lord? Is that why You’re testing me now? Oh, Jehovah-tsidkenu, give me strength not to give in to my desire to have her. Keep me to Your path, for if I step off, I am lost! Help me show Ruth the kindness she has shown me, and establish her.
“Yes,” he said to her. “There is another relative who must be consulted. Stay here tonight, and in the morning I will talk to him. If he is willing to redeem you, then let him marry you. But if he is not wil
ling, then as surely as the Lord lives, I will marry you! Now lie down here until morning. No one must know that a woman was here at the threshing floor.”
Ruth lay down at his feet again. Boaz felt her presence so acutely, his stomach hurt. He wondered if she slept, for she made no sound at all. Nor did she move. He longed to touch her, to talk with her, but withheld his hand and kept his silence.
He prayed instead.
Oh, Lord, Lord . . .
He didn’t even have words for the feelings stirring so strongly in him. He was shaken by her presence, shot through with hunger for her to be his wife. How many years had it been since he’d felt like this? Not since he’d thought himself in love with Naomi. It’s been more than twenty years!
The hope of loving Ruth made him afraid for the first time in years.
* * *
Ruth came abruptly awake when a gentle hand brushed the hair back from her forehead. “Shhhhh.” Boaz put his finger over his lips. He was down on one knee beside her, and it was light enough to see his smile. “Everyone’s still asleep,” he mouthed. Dawn was coming. It was time for her to leave before any of his servants awakened and saw her there.
“Bring your cloak and spread it out,” he whispered. She followed him to the pile of barley that had been purified of all the tare seeds. “I can’t send you home without a present.” He shoveled grain into her shawl until there was more than a bushel and a half. Then he tied it and laid it on her back. “For Naomi.”
His generosity never ceased to amaze her. She could not have carried any more. “Thank you,” she whispered and looked up at him. When her eyes met his, she felt the jolt of recognition and connection. He wasn’t just looking at her the way a man looked at a woman he found attractive. He looked at her as though she already belonged to him. The way he studied every detail of her face made her heart quicken. She blinked, stunned by the realization that this man, so far above her station, wanted her.
When Boaz reached out, she drew in a trembling breath. Though she stood still, waiting for his touch, he withdrew his hand. His smile became almost fatherly, his tone faintly reproving. “May it be as God wills.”