Rex?” Muriel reached for his hand. The man who never showed weakness, who bristled at the suggestion he needed help, who scoffed at any mention of God, was crying in public?
“I need your God. If He still will have me.”
Muriel hesitated a second too long. Like the time God got Peter out of prison, she couldn’t believe God had answered her prayers.
Tears cascaded down his cheeks. “I’ve been a fool.”
No one looked directly at Rex, but Muriel sensed the sideways glances. “Let’s take a walk.” She kept her voice low.
“But Benny—”
“Benny will understand. Let’s go.”
They walked until Benny’s voice was only a low rumble in the background, pausing whenever he needed to rest a minute. He led her to a rock on the outskirts of the village where he sank with a sigh. “God has been talking to me for a long time.”
She joined him on the rock, lacing her hand with his. “I know. I’ve been praying for you.” She laughed, somewhat self-consciously. “Do you have any questions?”
He looked straight ahead, not meeting her eyes. “Is it too late for me?”
“It is never too late, as long as you’re still breathing. Have you ever heard of the thief on the cross?”
Rex screwed his eyes shut, as if envisioning the scene at Calvary. “There were three crucifixions the day Jesus died, right? He was one of those men?”
“Yes. The thief was a criminal, maybe something serious to warrant that kind of execution. But when he hung on the cross, dying, he said, ‘Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.’”
“What did Jesus say to that?”
“‘Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.’ He went straight from his deathbed to the presence of God.”
“The original deathbed confession.” Rex’s tone took the sting out of the flippant words. “So you’re saying I still have time.”
“As much as you need, although the Bible also says ‘Behold, now is the day of salvation.’ Are you ready to open your heart to the Lord?” She heard the pleading note creep into her voice. “Can you admit you can’t save yourself?”
Laughing, he circled his crutch around. “I haven’t done such a good job of that lately. Yes, I’m ready. So what do I do?”
“You just tell God what you’re feeling. Admit you’ve sinned. Tell Him you believe Jesus died for your sins. Accept His forgiveness.” With someone else, she might have led him in a sinner’s prayer. But with Rex, he had to reach this decision on his own. She didn’t want to put words in his mouth, like a movie script.
“Do I need to do anything special? Temple my hands, close my eyes?”
“It doesn’t matter. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
His gaze grazed the sky. “It’s hard to talk to someone you can’t see.” Looking at her, he said, “I’ll close my eyes, then. So I’m thinking about God and not about you.
“God, I don’t know much about how prayer works. But I guess You already know that. I’m used to being the one giving directions. Do this, go there. But I finally realized I can’t do it on my own. I can’t make up for the bad things I do by being good. I need a Savior. I need Jesus.”
Muriel’s heart melted as Rex talked to God in his direct fashion. He sounded like an actor talking over the day’s filming with his director, accepting the director’s right to make decisions for him.
When at last he raised his face, light beamed from his eyes as brilliantly as Edison’s light bulb. “I feel…strange.”
“You’re a new person. ‘Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’”
“There you are.” Benny hustled in their direction. One look at Rex’s face, and he let out a whoop. “You finally did it. Welcome to the family, brother.” He threw his arms around Rex’s shoulders.
Rex arched his eyebrows. “Is it that obvious?”
Benny looked at Muriel, and they both laughed. “You’ll find out. The time will come that you’ll sit down at a table filled with strangers, and you’ll know which one is a Christian. Without”—Benny raised a hand in self-defense—“anyone saying a blessing over the food.”
“I guess I have a lot to learn.”
“But you’re not doing it on your own. Not anymore.”
Like a little boy on his first train ride, Rex kept his nose pressed to the window. Muriel stood on the platform, hand raised in a good-bye wave, her face frozen between joy and sadness. Now he was a Christian, the greatest barrier between them had dissolved. But he knew it was too soon. Like a child with a new toy, he was almost afraid that it would break if he played with it too much. He shook his head; this “toy” came with a book of operating instructions. He had purchased a Bible as soon as he’d arrived in town the night before.
The train started moving, the rhythmic motions of the wheels knocking him off his balance.
“Take a seat. You don’t want to hurt that leg now that you’ve finally escaped.” Benny patted the seat beside him. “Besides, you’ll see her again. At the premiere.”
Benny helped him into the seat, an awkward process between the swaying carriage and his cast. He pulled the slim Bible out of his carpetbag. “Where should I start? At the beginning?”
“Genesis is wonderful. The word means ‘beginnings’ and it’s all about beginnings—of the world, of man, of the Jews. You’ll learn about Abraham, the father of our faith. And the start of Exodus is full of excitement and drama, Moses and Pharaoh, plagues and grand confrontations.”
“You make it sound like movie fodder.”
“It is a great story. But after they arrive at Mount Sinai—let’s just say it’s slow going for a while. The law.”
“The Ten Commandments?”
“And the temple, sacrifices, the priesthood, how society should work. That’s getting into Leviticus. Important, all of it, but my annual attempts to read through the Bible falter before I reach the end of Leviticus.”
Rex laughed. “So maybe I’ll start with, what is it called, the New Testament?”
“Good idea. Start with Matthew, read on through Mark and Luke and John. By then you’ll know a lot more about the Lord, not only what you’ve heard all your life. You might be surprised.”
Rex looked at the table of contents and located the page number for Matthew. Hmm, well toward the back of the Bible. He started reading. “‘The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.’”
He became caught up in the words. Several times he noticed that it said “As it is written.” Probably referring back to passages from the Old Testament, which he had yet to read.
By lunchtime, he had reached the halfway point of the book, chapter fourteen. He set the Bible beside him in the dining car. Over the meal, overdone pork chops with lumpy potatoes, his eyes kept straying to the Bible.
Benny laughed. “Go ahead and read. I’m so glad to see you like this. Hungry for God’s Word. If someone had told me when I arrived at the village that you would be reading the Bible all the way back to Denver, I would have laughed. But I’m so glad I was wrong.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind.” Rex slipped his finger at the spot where he had stopped and started reading again. “I’ve heard about this before. Palm Sunday, right? When Jesus rides into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey? Great pageantry for a movie.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I’ve got to stop reading this like a director.”
Benny set down his fork and pushed the plate away. “That’s not all bad. God gave you the gifts that make you so good at what you do. Just remember this is truth, not fiction.”
“I’ll try.” Rex settled into finishing the unfolding events of the last week of Jesus’ life on earth. Hours later, he reached the end of the book. “‘And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.’” With a satisfied sigh, he closed the Bible. “You couldn’t write a better ending. Dead leader, does the impossible, comes back to life, and gives a stirring speech to the troops. And yet it’s all true.”
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it.”
The waiter appeared with slabs of pie.
“Do you have any questions?” Benny took a bite of pie. “You ought to try it. It’s the best part of the meal.”
Rex considered. “Not yet. I’m going to close my eyes and think about what I’ve just learned.”
Over the next few months, he discovered he had a lot to learn. He devoured the New Testament twice over, then went back to Genesis and looked for those verses quoted in Matthew. Benny came over several times a week, encouraging him, eager teacher to an even more eager pupil.
He had persevered, putting the final touches of the film together and making arrangements for its distribution. A month ago he had thrown away the crutches.
As busy as he was, Rex should have found it easy to keep his mind off Muriel.
He tapped the envelope in his hand against the table. An engraved invitation to the premiere of Ruined Hopes was addressed in his best schoolboy script to Miss Muriel Galloway, c/o 20th Century Theater, New York City, New York.
He kissed the envelope and sent up a prayer. “Lord, let it be.”
Muriel stood at the window of her room at the Brown Palace Hotel. Traffic bustled up and down Broadway. Broadway. The view looked nothing like the Great White Way she had left behind in New York for this premiere.
She had arranged to take off time from the play for the movie’s premiere—it was written into her contract—and took the train to Denver. Benny had picked her up at Union Station; she had run into Fred as well as several of the other actors over dinner. Of Rex, she had seen no sign. Benny said he was busy with last minute details regarding the film.
Muriel wanted to see Rex, to reassure herself that the fears that he had slipped away from the Lord when he returned to his usual environment were unfounded. To look into his eyes and convince herself that whatever she thought she had felt for him was a result of hours spent together in an isolated setting.
Because it couldn’t be anything else, at least not on Rex’s side. Why else had he maintained silence for all this time?
Why was he ignoring her now that she had arrived in Denver?
She looked at the sky. Gray and overcast, as if it might snow soon. From what she had heard from Rex over the summer, weather in Denver varied wildly, going from shirtsleeve weather to snowfall in the same twenty-four hours. She didn’t want to spend the day cooped up inside the hotel, even one as beautifully appointed as this one. Settling her cloak over her shoulders, she headed for the stairs.
As she passed the front desk, a clerk called, “Miss Galloway!”
She pulled the hood of her cloak over her features, as she often did when in public. Then she let it fall back. This wasn’t New York. She approached the window at the desk. “Yes?”
“You have a message. I was just going to send it up to your room.” He beamed.
Muriel turned the envelope over in her hand. Addressed to “Miss Muriel Galloway” in a strong hand. Fine quality linen paper. Could it be…Her fingers fumbled at she slipped her nail under the flap and opened it.
Dearest Muriel,
Benny tells me that you have arrived safely.
I hope you find your room at the Brown Palace to your liking.
I would like to meet you tonight, beneath the beautiful stained-glass ceiling at the Brown Palace. I have much I wish to say to you, but pen and paper will not suffice.
Please join me at the hour of seven o’clock in the lobby.
Truly yours,
Rex Pride.
The sight of his bold signature brought a smile to her face. Seven o’clock. She didn’t have much time. She turned to speak to the clerk. “Can you recommend a hair salon?”
A couple of minutes before seven, Muriel paused at the bottom of the stairway. She touched her hat and looked at her dress. Would Rex think the tiered skirt, complete with ruffles and lace, too dressy? She had worn practical clothing while on location. She touched her hair uncertainly, scanning the room for a sign of Rex.
The door flew open with the force of the wind behind it, and Rex strode in. The wind had curled his hair into comfortable peaks. He was dressed in a suit but ignored a tie, instead leaving the top button unbuttoned. Gladness filled her heart, broadening her smile and filling her senses. She couldn’t hide her happiness at seeing him if she wanted to.
Most marvelous of all, the expression on his face said he felt the same way.
“Muriel.” Rex’s tongue swelled, thick in his mouth. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She glanced shyly away. “You look fine yourself.” Her eyes searched his face. “You have changed. I can tell.” Her hand reached for him then dropped without reaching his face.
“Have you seen the ceiling up close? It’s beautiful.”
She craned her neck to look. “Who’s the artist?”
He told her what he knew about the stained glass while they walked the stairs.
She asked, and he talked about the past few months, about what he had learned and what he had yet to learn, about how excited he was with his Christian faith while they circled the railing that looked down on the lobby.
“I had something else I wanted to discuss with you. If it were spring, I would have taken you to Elitch Gardens but given the snowfall…I asked you here. Walk with me?”
Dark eyelashes fluttered at him as he took her arm and walked her to a quiet spot at the end of the hall, overlooking the snow-shrouded street below. Taking both her hands in his, he turned her to look at him.
“Muriel, I know a vain, foolish man. He was so eaten up by pride that it almost cost him his life—both eternal life and physical life. Can you accept the love of a man like that?”
“Oh, Rex.” She swung his hand and dropped it. “If that man has received Christ, he’s a new creation in Christ. The old man is gone forever.” Bringing his hand up again, she took a step closer. “And if you’re talking about Rex Pride, yes, I could love a man like that. I do love a man like that.”
He lifted her hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle, then pulled her into an embrace. “May I make a double announcement tomorrow night? Introducing you as the future Mrs. Rex Pride?”
Happiness shining from her eyes, she said, “Yes.”
He pulled her into a close embrace, claiming her lips—and her heart—with a kiss.