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Authors: Joyce Livingston

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BOOK: Down from the Cross
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“I–I guess we’d better call it a night. I’m sure Mom is waiting up for me. I’d like to introduce her to you, but she hasn’t been feeling well lately. Maybe another time.”

“I’m looking forward to…” He could no longer resist her cherry pink lips, and his mouth claimed hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. When she did not pull away, he allowed his kiss to deepen. The feelings that flooded over him were a total surprise. He had never felt quite like this before. These were not the kind of feelings the guys at the gym talked about when they discussed the women in their lives. These were weird and wonderful feelings. Feelings of love and passion and, yes, even protectiveness. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her off to some faraway island where she could be his alone, without the pressures of everyday life and the demands of the world.
What am I doing, holding her and kissing her like this?
He backed away slightly and tried to shake such foolish thoughts from his brain. Other than the job she performed each day for him and singing in the cantata, they had practically nothing in common. Not only that, but she was a devout Christian. Her whole life centered on God. He did not even believe in God!

“Keene, is something wrong?”

Her words brought him back to reality. “Wrong? No. I–I’d better be going.” He pulled his arms from about her waist after planting a brotherly kiss on her forehead. “See you in the morning.”

Looking confused and a little embarrassed, she unlocked the door and moved quickly into her apartment.

Keene watched the door close behind her, his mind in a muddle. Jane Delaney had really messed up his life.

All night he lay sleepless in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He promised himself there would be no more kissing. From now on, things were going to be strictly business between them. Well, not exactly business, but he could not, and would not, allow their relationship to go beyond friendly. For both their sakes. It was not fair to lead her into thinking there could be any future for them. Future for them? What a ludicrous idea. He was a well-known performer with a brilliant career. A star in the field of music. He had only begun to tap the possibilities that lay ahead of him. He did not need a wife, and certainly not children—not with his busy schedule and his lifestyle of travel and glamour.

Jane, on the other hand, seemed to have no further ambitions than to marry someday and have children. She had no interest in social status, beautiful clothing, fine homes, or the other things money could buy. Obviously, the biggest problem separating them was this crazy, all-consuming love and devotion she had toward the God he did not believe existed! Even if they were attracted to one another in a way neither of them would admit, how would they ever get around such an obstacle?

Very little was said between them on the way to church the next morning. Despite his original intention to stay and take her home, he let Jane insist on riding with Karen and left alone after the first service.

With so much to learn in such a limited amount of time, Keene kept mostly to himself the next few weeks, closing up in his room all day, taking only minutes out for a quick bite of lunch at noon. Though they often laughed and joked with each other, Jane could feel the strain in their relationship. She loved this man, no doubt about it. “Why,” she asked God every day, “would You bring Keene into my life? Didn’t You know I’d fall in love with him?”

To glorify My name, child.

“How, Lord?”

Trust Me, Jane. Trust Me.

Checking the calendar on her desk, Jane shook her head. Only one week before the first public performance of
Down from the Cross.
So far, things were going quite well. Keene had his parts down pat, their first full dress rehearsal was scheduled for the next day, and every single ticket had been given out with hundreds of calls coming in from people who desperately wanted to attend but hadn’t gotten their tickets earlier or who had just heard about it.

The church board was overjoyed with the response. Nearly every day since the word had gone out that Keene Moray would be performing the lead in
Down from the Cross,
there had been either an article in the newspapers or a blurb on TV or radio. Instead of having to call and ask for coverage, the reporters were calling them, clamoring for interviews and any interesting tidbits they were willing to give them. Every one of them expressed interest in doing a feature story about Keene.

She whirled her chair around at the sound of the office door opening.

“Jane, explain this to me.”

She rose quickly.

He handed her his music book. “How could any man walk on water? I find it hard enough to believe that Jesus did, but it says here that Peter did, too.”

She took the book from his hands, knowing full well the line to which he was referring. “Peter could only do it because Jesus told him to come to Him. When Peter took his eyes off Jesus, his faith wavered, and he began to sink.”

Keene eyed her suspiciously, his brow creased. “You don’t really believe all that, do you? Or that Jesus raised people from the dead?”

“Yes, Keene, I do believe it, and I believe all the other miracles we read about in God’s Word.”

“Then you’re way more gullible than I am!” He shook his head while closing the book and stuffing it under one arm.

“It’s not being gullible, Keene. I believe because I have faith that what God says is true.” He gave her a puzzled stare.

“God’s Word says, ‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ The entire eleventh chapter of Hebrews is filled with stories of faith.”

“Taking things by faith seems kind of stupid. Like believing in fairy tales.”

“Do you ever fly in a commercial airplane?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

“Do you personally meet the pilot before your plane takes off?”

“No.”

“Do you ever board a plane without meeting the people who made that plane or those who serviced it at the airport?”

“You know I do.”

“And you tell me you don’t take things by faith?” A smile crossed her face as she gave his arm a playful pinch. “I rest my case, Mr. Moray.”

He appeared thoughtful, his eyes locked with hers. “You really believe all this Bible stuff, don’t you?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course I believe it. I’m so
gullible
I even believe the part on the inside cover of my Bible where it says ‘genuine leather’!”

He held the book out again. “How about the part where it says Jesus rose from the dead?”

Her expression sobered. “Yes, Keene, I do believe Jesus rose from the dead, and that He’s sitting in heaven right now, at God the Father’s right hand. And I also know He’s preparing a place for me.”

“A mansion? Like the words in one of the parts I sing describes?”

“Absolutely.”
God, help Keene to continue to dwell on Your Word.

“Remember that Bible you gave me? I’ve been reading it some. When I have a chance,” he quickly inserted. “Some of it actually makes sense.” He headed for the door but stopped and turned to her. “You know, it amazes me the way the people at your church work so hard. I mean, I have watched men building sets, some painting backgrounds. Women working tirelessly creating costumes. The choir members rehearsing hour after hour each week and never complaining. None of these people is being paid a penny, yet they work harder and with more dedication than any of the professionals I have worked with over the years. And to top it all off, they’re nice! I like them.”

The ringing of the doorbell brought a halt to their conversation. She rushed to answer it.

“Well, who are you?” the attractive woman dressed in a tight-fitting red suit asked, eyeing Jane from head to toe.

“I–I’m Mr. Moray’s assistant.”

Without being invited, the woman stepped into the living room and looked around. “Nice place, but certainly not as nice as his New York apartment, or the one he stays at when he’s in London.”

“May I tell him who is calling?” Jane asked, in awe of the woman’s audacity, the way she waltzed in without even announcing who she was.

“Tell him his little Babs is here. Come to see him all the way from New York City,” she drawled out in a Southern voice. Jane recognized both the name and the drawl instantly. Babs was one of the women who kept calling Keene.

He rushed into the room and took the woman by her hand. “Hey, Babs, what are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you.”

Babs draped her arms about his neck and pressed her skinny frame against him. “I’m here to see you, sweetie. You haven’t been returning my phone calls. I was afraid something had happened to you, so I just hopped on a plane and came here to see you.”

Giving Jane a quick sideways glance, he grasped the woman’s wrists and pulled her arms away from his neck. “You should have let me know you were coming. I don’t have one free minute to spend with you. I’m… I’m in rehearsals.”

Babs ran a manicured finger down his sleeve, lowering her lip in a pouting manner. “Babs needs to spend time with her Keene. She misses him.”

Jane covered her grin with her hand. This woman was coming on so strong it was ridiculous. Surely, Keene could see through her.
Is this the kind of woman he is attracted to? Is this why our relationship has suddenly cooled off?
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat at the thought.
Relationship? What relationship? All there has ever been between Keene and me is a few kisses and an “I think I’m falling in love with you” comment during a weak moment, and even that I’m not sure I heard correctly. If there is any relationship between us, I’m afraid it’s all onesided.

Babs, not to be discouraged, slid her arm into Keene’s and pouted up at him again. “I’m hungry. Can’t you take me to some nice place for lunch? You have to eat!”

He pulled free of her grasp and took a step away from her. “We’re having lunch catered in. Pizza.”

To Jane, the look on the woman’s face was priceless. His answer seemed to take all the steam out of her unladylike advances.

“I’m sorry, Babs. I wish you’d called before coming to Providence.” Keene sent another glance Jane’s way, sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, then focused his attention on Babs. “I hope you have shopping or other things to do while you’re here, because I simply don’t have a minute to spare for the next two weeks. My rehearsals are going to take all my time.” He took hold of her arm and gently ushered her toward the door. “Please don’t think I’m rude, but I must get back to work. Maybe we can get together next time I’m in New York.”

Babs shot a glance over her shoulder and sent a frowning glare at Jane. “Does
she
have anything to do with your busyness?”

Opening the door for her, he gave Babs a stern frown. “I won’t even dignify that question with an answer.”

The woman huffed out the door without returning his good-bye, her stiletto heels clacking on the hallway’s marble floor.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Keene told Jane after he closed the door. “That woman has been driving me crazy for months. I have told her repeatedly to quit following me around! I had one arranged date with her when I was performing in London. That’s it, but since then she has been calling constantly and turning up unexpectedly at almost all of my performances. She even turned up in Japan!”

BOOK: Down from the Cross
5.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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