Tracer tossed his head as
if he understood. As Burke led him out of his stall, the ceiling
lights switched on and a voice called from the door. "You and
Tracer heading out?"
Burke snapped his head up and
turned around to see Reese strolling toward him with a cup of
coffee hooked over his finger.
"
Hey, Dad."
"
Going to the chapel?" he asked, leaning his broad frame
against one of the stalls, studying his youngest son as he saddled
up.
Burke grinned. "How'd you
know?"
Reese chuckled. "Just a
hunch. You used to take Tracer out a lot this time of night during
high school and college. When you came home, you always said you'd
been to the chapel."
"
I've been thinking about Coach's offer."
"
It's an interesting proposition."
Burke paused and faced his
father. "Think I should take it?"
He shook his head. "Son,
you and the Lord work this out, then I'll let you know what I
think."
Burke chuckled and threw the
saddle over Tracer's broad back. How did his dad always know when
to speak and when to hold his tongue? He hoped to be so wise.
"
Besides the coaching job, there's my relationship with
Grace, and last but not least, Belle."
"
Did you think she'd welcome you home with open arms, son?"
Reese asked, picking up on the most poignant point.
Burke led the palomino
past his father and out of the barn. "No," he said. "But I'd hoped
she'd be willing to talk by now."
Reese followed him into
the barnyard. "Give her time. Belle's a wise woman, she'll come
around."
A forceful wind blew through the
barnyard from the northwest, and Burke surveyed the sky. Dark,
heavy clouds drifted in, covering the fading blue day.
"
Looks like rain," Reese noted. "The top up on that new
fangled car of yours?"
Burke swung up onto Tracer
and looked down at his dad. "Top's up. I won't be gone
long."
"
I'll have your mother save you some dinner."
Burke nodded, then kicked Tracer
into a run.
***
The evening came without the
song of the crickets, and the wind carried the heavy scent of rain.
Belle trotted along the back roads towards the chapel atop Trixie,
leaning into the gusts, her thoughts fractured with the events of
the past few days.
Her heart felt delicate.
Thoughts of Burke crowded her mind, and her usually peaceful soul
struggled against anxiety. All day she continually prayed and cast
her cares upon her Lord, yet the resolve and closure she longed for
eluded her.
She fixed an early dinner for
her dad, Jake, and Cole and left them sitting around the table
sipping fresh brewed coffee, talking and planning the new fence
line. Duke looked up and nodded covertly as she slipped out of the
kitchen, the compassion in his eyes telling her he understood.
Without him saying it, she knew he would be praying for her. That
idea alone gave her strength.
In the distance, the chapel came
into view like an oasis on the prairie. Instinctively, Trixie
quickened her pace.
When they arrived at the old
hitching post, the mare stopped routinely, and Belle slid off her
back. Her feet hit the ground as another rider rounded the chapel
corner and abruptly stopped. Without even looking up, Belle
recognized the sleek golden coat and cream color mane of
Tracer.
"
Belle," Burke said, surprised.
She glanced up at him.
"Burke."
He slid off of Tracer.
"How are you?" he asked, reaching for her guitar case.
Reluctantly, she let him
help and forced herself to smile at him. "I'm fine. How 'bout
you?"
"
Good, good."
"
You still in town? I thought you'd be gone by now." She
kept her gaze averted.
"
No, I'll be here for awhile."
"
Oh," she simply said, feeling uncomfortable, struggling to
maintain her composure. A tiny part of her sparked with anger that
he'd showed up at her favorite prayer spot. She'd come here to get
away from the thoughts of him that deluged her mind.
She snatched her saddlebag from
Trixie's back, and walked with Burke toward the chapel steps. He
followed her as she scooted through the narrow chapel door,then
handed her the guitar. She thanked him curtly for his aid and
darted down the isle to her favorite corner under a tall stained
glass window. Once she got situated, she paused for a moment and
took a deep breath, longing for the peace that saturated the quiet
air of the chapel to saturate her soul.
"
Your peace, O Lord, guards my heart, my mind, my feelings,"
she confessed softly. Subtly, the Lord's gentle voice touched her
spirit.
Just be with Me.
She exhaled, loving the idea of
just being with her Lord. She resolved to spend her energies on
Him, not being anxious about Burke. She focused on her purpose and
dug her Bible out of the saddlebag, then tuned her guitar.
In the back of the room, she
could hear him settling in, the pew creaking as he got
comfortable.
Just ignore him and focus on
Jesus, she reminded herself. Yet, her songs sounded flat and
lifeless, her prayers routine and uninspired. Once she checked her
watch and found that only fifteen minutes had passed when it seemed
like an eternity.
Her eyes constantly looked
toward the back, trying to catch a glimpse of him. She couldn't see
him, so she guessed he was kneeling somewhere.
Focus Belle, focus. Fix your
eyes on Jesus! She continued on, worshipping as an act of her will.
Another fifteen minutes passed as she paced in front of the altar,
praying and reading scripture. She picked up the guitar again and
sang the words of Psalm Sixty-three. Gradually, peace replaced the
swirling anxiety, and she warmed with the love of her heavenly
Father.
***
Burke lay prostrate on the
floor, listening to Belle's worship, feeling as if he were invading
a private moment. He tried not to listen, but his heart loved the
lyrical sound of scripture and music.
With quiet resolve, he offered
his burdens to the Lord, gradually discovering answers to the
issues that burdened his mind.
First, he prayed about the
Coach's offer to lead the Haymakers' football program. Lord, is
this the job you have for me? Is this one of the reasons you
brought me home?
One by one, he prayed over the
other job offers he knew were on the table; sports commentator,
sitcom actor, commercial spokesman, traveling speaker. Though each
one had a certain appeal and intrigue, nothing excited him like the
idea of coaching young, high-school men.
After a long while, he grew
confident that he understood the Lord's heart in the matter. He
knew he should accept the invitation to become Haskell High's head
coach. A peace and joy welled up inside him every time he
conceptualized the idea. He took another moment to pray, thanking
the Lord for His wisdom and guidance.
Relieved to have the status of
his new career nailed down, Burke shifted his prayers to Grace. He
cared for her, that much he knew. For months now he'd been asking
the Lord if she was the one for him. Yet, when he seriously
considered their relationship, he had to admit they were little
more than good friends. While they enjoyed spending time together
and considered themselves a couple, their relationship had not
deepened much during the past year. Instead, it had grown
comfortable and convenient.
A decision must be made one way
or the other. Would Grace want to leave Hollywood? They could not
carry on a long distance marriage. Burke refused to even entertain
the idea. It was hard enough when he lived in Colorado and she in
L.A. Had he stalled until he ironed out the past with Belle? He
continued to pray with that thought in mind, but he sensed no real
instruction from the Lord other than to wait. He would supply the
answer in His perfect timing.
Belle's sweet soprano wafted
through the air. How ironic, he thought, that she prayed and sang
on the other side of the room, but a chasm wider that Grand Canyon
kept them apart.
Buried memories of times he
spent in the chapel with Belle surfaced in his thoughts. When they
were high school freshmen an evangelist spoke at their church,
impressing their young hearts with the power of prayer. Eagerly,
they'd made a pact to meet at the chapel every Wednesday to pray.
They treasured and guarded that time, desiring to honor the Lord
and grow in their faith. Every time they saw an answer to one of
their prayers, they grew in their commitment and hope.
They continued the tradition
even after they left for college. But gradually business, and the
lure of a new life in college, drew Burke away from the simplicity
of the Gospel he loved. He skipped the prayer time with Belle so
often that she started inviting others to join her.
His faith began slipping away.
He couldn't see it then, but now he realized those times of prayer
were seeds in his own heart that kept him and eventually brought
him back to his Lord.
Burke offered a heart-felt
whisper to the Father. "I trained and worked so hard for the glory
of football, now I want to train and work hard for Your glory
alone."
As he prayed the desires of his
heart, a powerful peace washed over him.
Belle glanced cautiously toward
the back of the chapel as she slid her Bible into her old saddlebag
and slipped the canvas case around her guitar. She hoped to catch a
glimpse of Burke. Looking quickly, she didn't see him. A slight
disappointment smarted her heart.
During her prayer time, the
presence of the Lord had tenderized her soul, and once again she
began to see things as He saw them.
She knew she must give Burke a
chance to say his piece. In return, she must share with him about
the pain and heartache he had caused her.
With a sigh of resolve, she
walked toward the back of the chapel, guitar and saddlebag in tow.
As she neared the final pews, she could hear the muffled sounds of
praying. She peaked between the pews and smiled. Burke lay
prostrate on the floor.
Gently she kicked his foot
with her boot. "Hey, Benning," she said in a low voice.
Burke lifted his head and
peered over his shoulder at her. Instantly, he rose to his knees
and turned his body toward her. "Leaving so soon?"
"
It's been over an hour."
He slipped into the wooden
pew. "I hadn't realized that much time had passed. The peace felt
so strong."
Belle rested her guitar
case on the pew and dropped her saddlebag to the floor. "It's
always like that in here," she said, bravely adding, "Listen, I'm
sorry about my attitude last night on the phone."
He looked up at her. "It's
okay, I understand."
"
You got a minute?" she ventured.
"
For you, yes."
Nervousness took over. Gentle
tremors shot through her body as she boldly slid into the pew next
to him. She stared at the floor for a long moment, trying to speak.
But emotion choked her words.
Burke leaned against the back of
the pew as if to give her space and waited quietly.
"
I had such a confidence a minute ago, I thought I could do
this," she confessed with a slight laugh.
"
Opening Pandora's box can't be easy."
She tried to talk again,
but couldn't. Finally, she gave up all efforts to speak without
feeling. With tears streaming down her face, she confronted him.
"You left me on our wedding day. Not the week before or the day
before, but minutes before. Do you know what that did to me?" Her
shoulders collapsed with sobs. She felt nauseous and
drained.
Burke's broad, high cheeks
reddened, and his blue eyes watered. "It wasn't because I stopped
loving you, Belle." His words were hushed and sensitive.
"
Then why, Burke? Why?" Out of frustration, she pounded the
pew once with her fist.
He hesitated before
confessing. "I got cold feet."
She couldn't believe her
ears. "What?"
"
I got cold feet," he repeated, his tone a level
louder.
Belle gaped at him. Of all
the reasons she imagined over the past twelve years, being scared
wasn't one of them. "Cold feet?" she echoed,
unbelieving.
"
Hard to imagine isn't it? But it's the truth."
She slid off the pew and walked
to the window, restless and agitated. Dark ominous clouds obscured
the brilliant colors of the setting sun.
"
Daddy came in the dressing room that day looking white as a
summer cloud. I thought he'd gotten sick. He asked all the girls to
leave, and when the last one out shut the door, he started
crying."
She turned around to face
Burke and dropped her back against the faded blue paint of the
chapel wall, arms crossed over her chest. His complexion had faded
from red to pale. "I hadn't seen Daddy cry since momma died. In my
wildest dreams I would have never guessed you were the cause of his
tears. Not you, Burke."
"
Belle, I--" he started, but she spoke over him, continuing
her tale.