Down from the Cross Read online

  Her nervous laugh made him smile. Actually, just being with her made him smile. Until he came to Providence, he had smiled very little. Or at least honest smiles. He had put on more false, on-demand smiles than he cared to remember. It was part of his job. But an honest, all-out smile from his heart? There had not been many. Until Jane came into his life and into his heart.

  When they arrived, the maître d’ took them to their table, calling Keene by name. Jane, who said she rarely had seafood, asked Keene to order for her, then oohed and aahed over the lobster as she dipped each bite into the drawn butter. They laughed their way through a pleasant meal, and to Keene’s mind the evening ended all too soon. As they walked through the dingy, dimly lit hall with its torn carpet and burned-out lightbulbs toward the apartment she shared with her ailing mother, Keene had a sudden urge to take her away from all of this. Show her the world he lived in. Give her the fine things of life she had apparently never had. But why? She deserved so much more, yet he could not remember a single time since he had met her that she complained about her living conditions. How different she was from the many other women he knew. Each day, his appreciation for Jane and her values increased, and he found her more alluring than ever.

  “I will see you at church in the morning, won’t I?” she asked him while they lingered in the hallway.

  “You’ll see me before that. I’ll pick you up at eight. You surely don’t expect me to attend my first church service by myself, do you?” He slipped his arm around her waist and hugged her to him as emotions he had never experienced before took hold of him.

  She smiled up at him. “Then you’d better make that 7:30 if you want to go with me. I have to be there early. The choir always goes over its special a time or two before we go into the service.”

  He frowned. “I forgot about you singing in the choir. Does that mean I’ll have to sit by myself?”

  She looped her arms about his neck and gave him a light-hearted smile. “Just during the first part. After the offertory, we go sit with the congregation. I usually sit on the front pew. Since I sing in the choir, I’ll have to stay until nearly noon. I’m sure you won’t want to sit through all three services. I can catch a ride home with Karen.”

  “Front pew it is. I’ll save you a seat.” He gazed into her eyes, amazed at her simple beauty. There was no pretense in Jane’s life. No facade. No cover-up. She was who she was, and he loved that about her. With Jane, he could relax—be himself. Be the real Keene Moray, not Keene Moray the performer, and it felt good.

  “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 el
eventh 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!”

  “From the phone calls that come in every day, I’d say she’s only one of your many admirers.” Jane chuckled. “I hope they’re not all like that.”

  He shrugged. “Sadly, most of them are. Spoiled little rich girls with time and money on their hands and overindulgent mommies and daddies to cater to their every whim. And to think I used to like that kind of woman.”

  With a grin, she tilted her head and raised a brow. “Used to?”

  “Yeah, used to.”

  She wished she knew what that statement meant, but when he did not offer to elaborate, she decided to let it drop and get back to work.

  Keene stopped outside the closed office door on the way to his room, tempted to go inside and try to give Jane a better explanation about Babs’s impromptu visit. But he decided against it and moved on down the hall. What’s with me? he asked himself, settling down in a comfortable barrel-backed chair. Not long ago, I considered Babs funny and charming, the life of the party. Now, with her pushy ways, she seems obnoxious. Her very presence repels me.

  He didn’t have to ask himself that question a second time. He knew what was wrong with him. He was comparing all the women he had ever met with Jane, and all of them were coming up short. But why? What did Jane have going for her the others did not? Although he considered her beautiful, she was certainly no more attractive than most of the women who continually called him. Her wardrobe consisted of either jeans and a T-shirt or sweats. Those women were always beautifully coiffed and adorned in the latest Paris fashions. She mentioned she had taken a few college classes. Most of the others had graduated from prestigious women’s colleges. If Jane outshone them, there was only one reason that made any sense. She was who she was, 24/7. No dishonesty. No put-on. No trying to impress people by pretending she was something she was not. Her life was pure, sweet, and innocent. And what made her this way? He hated to admit it, but her faith in God and her gentle ways were what made her beautiful.

  The dress rehearsal went even better than Keene expected it would. Though he had not said anything to Jane or anyone else from the church, he had been quite concerned about working with a group of nonprofes
sionals. The idea of the cast showing up onstage wearing chenille bathrobes and Roman soldiers carrying cardboard swords covered with foil had terrified him. In some ways, he was putting his career on the line, particularly now that Down from the Cross was garnering so much media coverage and promised to get even more once the performances started. However, the costumes were nothing like he had expected. Whoever created them had done their research. Everything rang true to the times and the traditions, and anyone could tell by looking that no labor or expense had been spared. The costumes rivaled the most expensive, elaborately designed costumes in any of New York City’s finest productions.

  It was nearly five o’clock before Keene walked Jane to her car. “Long day, huh?”

  She stretched her arms above her head and brought them down, letting her breath out slowly. “Um, yes, but a good one. I’m really excited about Down from the Cross. Not just because you are singing the part of Jesus, but also because I think the entire cantata has a wonderful message. It’s my prayer that many in our audience will hear the plan of salvation through it and accept Christ as their Savior.”

  “You really do believe all of this, don’t you?” The hurt look on her face told him his words had offended her.

  “Keene,” she began, her pale blue eyes filled with an unexpected intensity, “could you have been around me all these weeks and doubt my sincerity? You keep asking me that question. Yes, I do believe it. All of it! And I wish you did, too!”

  He stepped in front of her and grabbed both her wrists. “Why does this always have to come back around to me? Has your God made you my keeper?”

  Anger flared in her eyes, and she blinked away her tears. “Yes, I think He has! At least, He put us together so I could share my faith with you!”

  His laugh came out haughtier than he intended, and he instantly wished he could take it back. “Next you’ll be telling me God made me run that stoplight and ram my car into yours, breaking your leg!”

  She lifted her face to his, glaring at him as she jerked her hands free. “He might have. He can do anything He wants!”