A New Day (29 page)

     “
You back with us again, Tim?” the speaker queried innocently.  “You can come up here and take over, if you’d like.”

     “
No, thanks.”  Tim declined, waving his hand at the stage, wearily.

    
People laughed, and Tim shook his head without embarrassment.

     “
Lord, send more fire.  Send more fire.  Send more fire!  Send more fire!”  the speaker roared.

    
Tim groaned, and slid further down in his seat.  Sweat popped out on his forehead, and Tasha could literally feel intense heat falling on him, like sheets of driving rain.  It made her very fearful – he was like an oven!  What was happening to the man beside her was very real.  She could feel sweat on her own brow, just from being too close to him.

     
People on the other side of him began to groan from the heat, and the great number of people in the room began to send up a roar of assent with what the speaker was saying.

    
Tim started to shake like a freight train,  and then he simply slid out of his chair onto the floor again.  He was like a rag doll.

    
Tasha stared at him with stricken eyes, and then closed them so she didn’t have to see it.  She knew again in her heart for the first time in years, that there was a living God.   This was definitely God, but not like she’d ever seen Him move before.  This was heavier than anything she and Gary had ever moved in. 

    
What in the world could this mean? 

    
A roar of voices and applause went up when Tim hit the floor again. 

    
Tasha listened to the end of the speaker's message in a daze, she was so frozen with trepidation.  Then, the speaker offered to pray for the people.  He called the ministry team up, and people began flooding to the front. 

    
Tasha stood up, seeing that they intended to remove the chairs, and moved away to the side of the room. 

    
Tim slowly got up on his feet and began moving toward the front, though he wasn’t ambulating very well.  He took his handkerchief out and mopped his face with it.  By the time he had it back in his pocket, people were crowding up to have him pray for them.

    
Tasha watched with detached interest as the man Tim was praying for began to tremble and weep. Tim put his hand on the man’s shoulder and spoke to him.  Then as Tim laid a gentle hand on his head,  the man’s legs crumpled out from under him.  A man standing behind him caught him, and laid him gently on the floor. 

    
Tim moved on to the next person, and the next.  Most of them fell to the floor.  Tasha could see that Tim's ministry touched every person that he prayed for, mightily. 

    
It was the power of God; Tasha knew it well.  She could feel it near her, when Tim himself had fallen.  She knew His Presence, without a doubt. 

    
It was interesting to watch Tim, and to see the looks on the faces of people around him as well as the face of the one he was praying for.  Astonishment, amazement, fear, envy;  all were in evidence at times when people heard what Tim had to say over an individual. 

    
Tasha smiled wryly, knowing he had a strong prophetic gift.  It was strong enough that he’d been able to ask for and receive her first and middle name, instantly.  She'd never seen the like of it before. 

    
He’d been so right; no one, but no one knew her middle name, besides her father and Gary.  No one at all knew why she hated the name Suzette, so much.  She’d never told her father what his sister had done;  only the two of them knew – she, and her aunt Suzette – and now, Tim Rain.

    
When at last the crowds thinned and most people had departed the service, Tim and the man who’d taken his place as speaker approached Tasha, talking as if they were old friends.

    
Tasha smiled, and tried to put up her defenses.  But the closer they came, the weaker Tasha's knees felt.  The Presence of God was all over both of them.  She felt it like a sweet, heavy blanket soaking into her as they approached.

    
"Tasha, this is Tom Phillips, a good friend of mine from Tennessee.  This lovely lady is Tasha..."  Tim introduced them. 

    
"Charles  Taylor", she supplied quietly.

    
"Mrs. Charles Taylor."  Tom said, taking her hand politely.  "Tim certainly thinks very highly of you, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

    
"Oh.  Thank you.  It's nice to meet you."  Tasha answered a little bit defensively.  What on earth had Timothy been saying about her?

    
"Nothing, except how well you've treated me this evening."  He answered her knowingly, though she'd said nothing aloud.  "It's very nice to be asked to dinner, and allowed to share in a bit of family time.  I don't get it every day, you know."  He told her with a sheepish smile.  “At least not while I’m on the road.  My mom insists on seeing that I eat right every once in awhile, but I have to admit that real home meals are rare, in this life.”

    
Tasha looked at him as if he'd grown two heads.  This man was an enigma.  He couldn't possibly be a family man, could he?

    
"Don't even try to figure him out.  He's a many-faceted character.  You never know what he might say next.  Likes kids, though.  Thought your two were angels."  Tom advised her, laughing.             

    
Tim looked down at her, and laughed.  His bright smile under the heavy mustache was slightly embarrassed.  "Come on, I ought to get you back home to them."  He said gently.

    
"Nice to meet you, Miss Tasha.  You take care, and we'll see you tomorrow night."

     “
Thank you.  Good night, Mr. Phillips."  She answered politely.  She turned eyes with daggers up at Timothy, as he helped her on with her coat, and put an arm around her shoulders.

    
"Are you hungry?" he asked as he led her toward the door. 

    
"Not really.  I think I should be going home."  She said evenly.

    
He put a strong arm around her shoulders, and leaned close to her ear.  "Tasha, please.  Have a cup with me, and help me unwind a bit.  Let me get to know you better.  It's been pretty much a whirlwind since we met."  He protested.  He turned her, and stopped so that she had to face him.

    
People were staring at them.  He was standing there, looking down into her eyes earnestly, with his warm hands on her shoulders.

    
"Ooh!"  She hissed at him, with eyes snapping.  "What am I supposed to say, with all of Christendom staring at us?  All right, all right, I will go!  But this is blackmail, Timothy Rain." 

    
He chuckled under his breath, and pulled her under his arm with more intimacy than she was quite comfortable with.  However, with an audience, Tasha didn't want to do anything about it.  It wouldn't be right to make a scene. 

    
After that woman's interest in her before the conference, Tasha understood that there would be ramifications following any reaction that spoke of displeasure – for her, as well as for Tim.

    
"For once, I am delighted to see a woman bow to the dictates of public pressure."  He admitted.  "Thank you, Tasha.  I do appreciate it."

    
She gave him a piercing look that let him know it was only duress that had made her capitulate, indeed, and then focused her eyes ahead of her steadily.

    
He took her to the hotel coffee shop, and ordered a cup of herb tea with honey, and some toast.  Tasha ordered an Espresso.

    
"Nothing to eat?"  he asked worriedly.

    
"No.  I don't eat anything after dinner.  It's a rule I don't dare break."  She advised, shooting a wary look across the booth at him.  He smiled enough to show her his deep, symmetrical dimples in both cheeks.

    
A very young man walked across the restaurant, and sat down next to Tasha without invitation.   "Hey, Mr. Rain, could I ask you a couple of questions?" he asked eagerly.

    
Tim sighed, and crossed his arms on the table.  "What's your name and who are you with?"  Tim asked with a politeness that wasn't mirrored in his eyes.  He looked distinctly upset.    

    
"I'm Jim Silman, a reporter with  Power In The ..."

    
"Get up."  Tim snapped quietly, before the young reporter could finish.             

    
"Pardon me?" the young man asked, flushing brilliantly.

    
"Get up."  Tim repeated patiently, but in a tone that did not brook argument.  The young man obeyed him, instantly.  Tim's eyes and presence exuded an authority that shocked both Tasha and the young man.

    
"If you ever make yourself at home next to a lady who's in my company again, I'll take you outside and teach you some manners.  If you want to interview me, you can ask permission first, and arrange a meeting.  Don't you ever presume to crash my free time and don't you ever make yourself comfortable with a lady in my company."  He informed the young man pointedly.  There was a look of burning challenge in his smoldering eyes.

    
The young man looked at him with astonishment, then shot a sideways look at Tasha.  Tasha was certain that the young reporter hadn’t even noticed her sitting there, until that moment.   He'd just seen an opportunity, and acted on it without thinking.    

     
"I, uh -- sure.  Sure, Mr. Rain.  Sorry, you have a nice evening." He said quickly; then he made himself scarce.

    
Tasha looked at Timothy with amazement and stifled an embarrassed chuckle.  "Whoa." She commented lightly.  "You don't mess around, do you?"

    
Tim gave her a burning look that told her he was not pleased with the interruption.  "I'm very sorry, Tasha.  No, I don't tolerate that kind of interference from the press anytime, anywhere.  Besides," he said with a teasing smile,  "Since I don't think that you'd be inclined to let me sit that close to you, I sure as heck won't let him."  

    
Tasha blushed, and looked at her lap.  Finally, she had to look up at him again, and found herself almost shy.  "Well;  thank you."  She said softly.

    
His burning eyes smiled at her.  "You're welcome.   Now, where were we?"

    
"Don't you think you were a bit rough on him, though?  I mean, is it really, well – Christian to offer to take him outside, like that?"  she asked incredulously, teasing him chidingly with her soft, round eyes.

    
Tim shrugged, seeming not at all apologetic.  "Why not?"  he asked curiously.  "Just because I'm a servant of Jesus doesn't mean I have to accept rude tactics from the press."  He answered quietly.     "He had no right, without an invitation, to join us.  I don't feel it was wrong at all of me to offer to work him over.  If his mother nor his editor ever taught him how to behave, you can bet I'll be happy to.  I suspect he'll think twice before he ever again interrupts me when I'm alone with a beautiful woman."

    
Tasha blushed, and looked distinctly uncomfortable.  "Mr. Rain,"  she objected.  Her eyes were on her lap, but pink spots appeared in her cheeks.

    
"Timothy will do."  He suggested with a smile.  But there was a clear command in the words.  "It happens to be the truth, so don't go getting all turned inside out about it.  You're very beautiful.  Don't pretend it's not so." 

    
There was a sparkling, naughty challenge in his blue eyes that made the spots in her cheeks grow even brighter.  She was a bit undone, and Timothy was enjoying it. 

    
Tasha gasped in frustration and looked up at him from under lowered lashes.  "Are you always so direct?" she asked breathlessly.

    
He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.  "No.  I guess I get used to being that way when I'm ministering to people, and it carries over.  I'm sorry.  I don't mean to upset or embarrass you."

    
She gave him her first genuine smile.  "It's all right."   She assured him.  "I suppose circumstances haven't been terribly normal since we met."

    
He laughed under his breath and shook his head ruefully.  "You can say that again."  He agreed.  "So, tell me about yourself." 

    
Tasha shrugged.  "I live with my father.  I have two kids.  I ski a lot and act as a hostess for my father on occasion.  That's about all."

             
Tim looked at her keenly.  "A woman of leisure?" he asked with interest.  "You don't strike me that way, at all.  I'll bet you stay pretty busy."

    
"Yes.  I suppose that I do."  She answered uneasily.

    
"Tasha, is your husband totally out of the picture?" he asked gently.

    
She stiffened uncomfortably, but supposed the question wasn't out of line.  "Yes."  She answered tightly.