This Time(20)

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.





Chapter Nine





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."