by Nancy Hopper
Looking up at him, she saw that he knew. He watched her battle with it, and shook his head.
"Don't be afraid. I won't abuse it." He promised her gently.
"Breakfast." Lucinda called from the kitchen door.
Tasha turned and went without hesitation. She was cold and silent through the meal. Tim guessed correctly that she was scared stiff by what had just happened between them. He sighed heavily, and caught her hand across the table.
"Hey. Why don't you bring along some clothes, and we will have a nice, relaxed dinner at the Cedars before the meeting tonight?" he suggested softly.
She froze and stared at him. "Timothy, I haven't told you yet that I'd go tonight." she objected.
He was tempted to tell her that she'd actually promised him she would; but he didn't think that would be terribly wise. "All right; I'll ask you again. Will you come? Please?" he asked gently. His husky voice tore at her heart.
Tasha felt very vexed by the pull of his words. She felt such an obligation to banish that look of disappointment from his clear, honest eyes. Something inside her wouldn't let her shut that door, anymore. She knew it wasn't his fault; but it made her feel like a wild horse, wanting to bolt out of a stall. "Fine." She said shortly.
His answering smile made it all worthwhile, and that made her crazier inside, yet.
"Thanks." He said simply. His eyes told her that he knew all about it; and he was pleased that she hadn't put up a fuss.
Tasha excused herself, and went upstairs to get her things together for the evening. She chose purple suede from head to foot, with very long fringe, and boots to match. She figured she could give this cowboy a run for his money in attire, at least. She grabbed underwear, nylons, boots and her make-up kit. She zipped it all into a garment bag, and met Tim downstairs.
"Lucinda, we won't be home for dinner tonight. Do some special favorite for the kids, will you?" she asked wistfully.
"Oh, yes. I certainly will. You and Mr. Timothy have yourselves a lovely day. And evening." Lucinda urged.
"We will. Bye." Tasha answered.
Tim just grinned and winked at Lucinda on his way out.
They had a lovely day of skiing. The sky was blue, and it was a perfect twenty-eight degrees outside. Tasha found herself hard pressed to keep up with Mr. Timothy Rain on the slopes. He chose tough terrain and he skied it hard and fast. But he challenged her, and she enjoyed it. She had to admit to herself that he was simply grand company, too.
Tasha slowly got to such a level of comfort with Tim, that she didn't mind his arm around the back of her chair, or the closeness of him next to her on the lift. She was getting quite used to him, and she was having a great deal of fun.
They both saw friends on the hill and in the lodge, but nobody even thought about crashing their party. Perhaps Tasha's friends were simply so astonished to see her skiing with a strange man, that they wouldn't know what to say – but it seemed to be an appointed time for them to become better acquainted, and develop something of a friendship. Timothy had paved the way for it in prayer, and he was deeply gratified to see it happening.
After lunch, she showed him some lesser known runs that she favored, and she could see that he was enjoying them, as well. It got them far away together, in the deep, silent wilderness of the craggy alpine heights.
Once as they stopped for a momentary rest, Tim just closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath in the still, fresh air. Tasha simply watched him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. There was a presence of God that was heavy and tangible up here in the muffled, white silence of the forest. It was an incredibly beautiful and refreshing place to be.
When the day was over, they skied right up to the Cedars and put their skis in the overnight corral, for safekeeping. They got lockers for their boots, stopped in the garage to get Tasha's clothes from her car, and then they headed up to his room.
They were alone in the elevator. "Do you prefer a shower, or a bath?" he asked.
Tasha sighed. "Well, a bath would be great if we have time. You worked this old girl pretty hard, today." She laughed.
A look of concern clouded Timothy's face. "Did I push you? Tasha, I'm sorry. I'm so used to skiing with the guys, it just didn't occur to me. You kept up so well, that..."
"No problem. You're challenging, but fun to ski with. I had a blast, so don't apologize." She assured him.
When they got to his room, he suggested that she let him shower first and then he’d take a nap while she soaked. It sounded glorious to her, so she immediately agreed and flopped in the armchair.
Tim came out of the bathroom ten minutes later wearing nothing but flannel shorts. Tasha just stared at him in shock. He was gorgeous! Tan, very muscled, slim and hard -- with just enough hair in all the right places, to be totally sexy. He moved with a fluid grace that many a smaller man would have envied.
There was a whole lot of this guy to look at. He had very well-developed muscles, and they were the kind developed over years of hard work. Tasha tore her eyes from his body, and turned off the TV by remote.
Tim, oblivious, fell into bed. "It's all yours." He yawned. "Wake me up in an hour, will you?"
"Sure." Tasha agreed, still unable to believe that he'd knocked her eyes out the way he had. Thank God, he was already just about snoring. She grabbed her clothes bag, and locked herself in the bathroom.
She relaxed in steaming hot water for an hour, and reflected on the day. He'd been a wonderful companion. She had to admit that she'd enjoyed herself tremendously. He'd put absolutely no pressure on today, he'd just been darn good company. He was sweet, and disarming when he wasn't on fire. She shook her head. The man was an enigma. And he was good-looking and nicely built enough to be on a poster.
At last, she knew she'd have to wake him up, so that they could have time for dinner. It felt very strange to get dressed in a man's hotel room, and even stranger to walk over to his bed and awaken him. Looking down at Timothy's smooth, brown shoulders, she really agonized over having to even touch him. She was becoming more attracted to him than she wanted to admit.
She forced herself to put a hand on his arm. His biceps and triceps were smooth, firm and pliable under her fingers. "Timothy. Wake up." She urged. There was no response. "Tim!" she called more loudly. She shook his shoulder soundly. "Timothy, wake up."
"Okay. Okay." He agreed, breathing in sharply. His long, black eyelashes fluttered, but they never did open all the way.
"It's time for dinner."
"Yeah. Okay." He agreed sleepily, but he wasn't moving.
“Then get yourself up, sir." She challenged succinctly.
Tim rolled over, and looked up at her hazily. "Oh, man. I was really out there." He growled.
He looked at her in shock, and shook his head. He was at eye level with her shapely legs below the straight, fringed skirt. "Well, well. You look like you'd fit in down in Jackson just fine." He complimented. Her jacket dripped with long, heavy fringe, and the yoke had cut-outs that showed through to a thistle-colored underlay in the shape of a rose. Her knee-high purple boots matched the outfit, and had the amazing rose motif across the shaft, with the same underlay to show it off. Fabric roses worked in along the neckline of her top were an unexpected tie-in.
"I can hold my own as a cowgirl." She boasted. "Now, you'd best get up and get yourself dressed."
"Yes, Ma'am." He agreed readily.
Tasha turned her back and walked to the mirrored desk. She sat down and touched up her make-up, so she wouldn't have to look at him as he went across the room to the bath.
Timothy came out wearing a very handsome steel gray silk shirt; with slacks, and boots of the same color. He had a collarless coat to match. He looked devastatingly handsome and sharp.
"Tasha, you're something else." He said, with admiration shining in his eyes. “Just when I think I've got you figured out, you surprise me again. You are too put together for words." He complimented. "And darn pretty, to boot."
Tasha smiled nervousl
y. "Thanks. You're darn pretty, yourself."
Tim looked at her sharply, as if measuring her words. An eyebrow went up, as she quickly scooted out the door.
She had him off balance and wondering, all the time. Darn the woman! Now, she was running ahead of him, again. He shook his head, pocketed his key, and followed her out the door.
They had a wonderful steak dinner by candlelight and firelight in the dining room, and Tasha found herself thinking once again how wonderful a friend and companion he could be. He made her feel special. She was feeling very comfortable with Tim again, by the time they went down to the conference.
As they walked down the entry hall to the Ballroom, Timothy put a protective arm around her shoulders. He kept it there until they got to their seats. He helped her out of her jacket, and let his hands rest on her shoulders, admiring the slender torso clad in a Thistle-colored silk shell, so beautifully appliqued with purple fabric flowers and vines around the neck. The music was just starting, so they didn't sit down. Tim wrapped his arms around her and hugged her from behind as they stood there on the front row, and the music started to pick up in intensity.
She gave him a look over her shoulder that chastised him for the intimacy, but she didn't want to do anything to embarrass him here, with all these people watching.
"What's the matter?" he asked softly against her ear.
"What are you doing?" she whispered back. "Tim, people will think the worst." She predicted.
"I don't care." He informed her with a deep chuckle.
Tasha dropped her head to hide her blush and confusion. She was well aware that many eyes were watching with interest, trying to figure out just how much was going on between Timothy Rain and his female companion.
"You know what, darlin'? Any minute now, the Holy Spirit is going to fall on us, and simply engulf the two of us in His awesome fire. I don't want you to miss it, and I sure don't care who misunderstands." The feel of his lips against her ear made her just about wild.
She opened her mouth to object, but she was too late. A sheet of spiritual fire did in fact fall on them at that very moment. It fell so hard and so heavily, that Tasha was simply swept to her knees. She would have been flat on her face, if not for the support of Timothy's arms around her waist.
He, too, was on his knees; and he held her against him as he fell over into a heap. He ended up on his back, with her head cradled on his arm. She heard his heart pounding, heard his chuckle.
"Yes, Lord. More." he gasped.
"More?" she thought hysterically. "He's got to be kidding."
But, 'More' came, and Tasha groaned as the fire destroyed her defenses. Burned up her walls. Destroyed her composure. It simply withered her will, her hidden anger and the bitterness she hadn't even known was there. It tore down all the barriers she'd put up between herself and Timothy Rain. It destroyed the distance she'd carefully put between herself -- and Him.
She could feel Him standing there, watching the fire do it's work. Waiting patiently. Her time of running was over. He had her right where He wanted her. Timothy had been victorious; he'd certainly handed her on a silver platter to his Master.
"Jesus." Tim whispered lovingly. Tasha knew that he was aware of the Presence that stood watching them. And, she felt that he knew what was happening to her; at least in part.
Tasha was still on the floor when Timothy struggled to his feet, and went up front, to minister. She could not get up. It's as if she was glued to the floor, unable to move. And she was still in the Spirit.
As Timothy began to speak, she heard in the Spirit; with revelation of the Scriptures he read, and understanding of all that he was saying. She heard words of such truth and might! She could sense much more of who this man was, in the eyes of God. It awed and frightened her.
What had she to do with this firebrand of a warrior? Why had God chosen to thrust him into her life? He was overpowering and unpredictable, and she was overcome by the wisdom and revelation she saw in him that night.
After the message, he began prophesying to the people, collectively; and then individually. Tasha was impressed by how hard he worked, how much of himself he gave out to the people, and how astute his words were.
She could feel the pleasure his ministry gave to the Lord. He kept giving, just as long as the demand was there. He was accurate, and very careful with the words he gave to people. His integrity was awesome. She could feel the love that Tim had for people. He cared deeply about every soul in his path.
Tasha finally scraped herself up, and found her chair. As she sat there and collected herself, a young man asked from her left shoulder, "Hey, can I pray for you?"
She gave him a closed look. "No. Thank you, anyway." She declined firmly. Her tone was very cold, and left no room for argument. He got the message, and left her alone.
Tasha's cheeks burned. She hated the feeling of having to resist everything and everyone who came along. She hated not belonging. She hated being there, watching Timothy Rain, and feeling the pull of the Holy Spirit on her.
She knew that if she stayed any longer, something infinitely more dangerous to her self-control would come. The Holy Spirit had set the stage for it tonight, when He'd engulfed them with His fire.
Gathering her coat and purse, she got up and walked out of the room. She stopped at the reception desk and took a card out of her purse. She handed it to the man Jim, and smiled at him. "Please give this to Mr. Rain. Tell him I had to go." She asked quietly.
"Will do, Ms. Taylor. Good night, now."
She had just reached her car in the garage, when Tim caught up to her and stopped her. He turned her around, gasping for breath. "Tasha, wait a sec. Please." He begged.
She frowned. “Timothy! What in the world are you doing?"
"Tasha, wait for me. Please don't go." He asked with great weariness.
"Tim, I'm very tired." She protested.
"I know. Me too. Listen, I'll drive. All right? Just give me a couple minutes, and I'll be with you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you so late. Please."
Tasha sighed harshly. "All right." She agreed grudgingly.
"Thanks. Come back in with me, it's not safe to just sit out here, in the garage."
"I'll be fine. I'll warm the truck up, and pick you up at the front door. If you want to come back out to the house, that is?"
"Sure. Fine. Just don't go, all right? I'll be as quick as I possibly can." He hustled up the steps to the building, and went back inside. Watching his slim, powerful body, Tasha bit at her nails and fretted.
His interest in her was disturbing. He was far too tenacious, and determined to stick like glue. She sensed God in it. And, she truly knew that Tim would never have given her a second thought or become so fixed on her if not for the prompting of the Holy Spirit. It was mostly God, if not all God.
Tim was just trying to do his job. He liked her, of that she was certain. But, he'd told her, himself, that he wasn't interested in getting married; and a straight preacher wouldn't pursue a woman on his own, for any other reason.
She chuckled, and shook her head sadly. The poor man had been chasing her coat tails to get her back to God. That's all it could be. His only goal was to be certain that she attended every night of this conference. He'd told her so, again and again.
This knowledge had become suddenly so much more real to her, that she didn't quite know what to do about it. It disturbed her. It was actually easier to think that Tim might be interested in her romantically than it was to think that it was just God who was interested in her.
If He was just using Tim to woo her back to Himself and Tim had no real interest of his own, then -- then she'd put him through hell and the poor man had just taken it, for her sake and to please his Master.
And his Master was not going to be denied. Tasha knew Him well enough to understand that. He could not be dismissed, or ignored. Her time had come, and He was not going to let her off the hook. Tim had made certain she understood that, as well.
She c
ame to realize it in her heart, and a grim resignation came over her. She became almost docile as she realized she'd been fighting God, and that it was futile to do so.
She immediately softened toward poor Timothy. She'd been keeping him on the business end of the whip. She knew that if she were smart, she would be very kind to this prophet of the Lord. God had clearly sent Timothy into her life; and He was not going to let him stop until the job was done. She determined to make it easier from that moment on. She'd just let it come. The decision was made.
Just then, Tim came out of the Cedars, carrying a garment bag. He opened the passenger door and looked at her with concern in his eyes. "Want me to drive?" he offered.
"No, I'll be fine. Climb in." She said gently.
Tim obeyed, and immediately noticed the changed atmosphere. She'd softened toward him in a very discernible way. She was totally soft, gentle and kind. It was in her eyes, in her voice and in her spirit.
"So, Mr. Rain." She said lightly. "Are you getting tired of hanging out with me?"
Tim looked at her sideways. "Actually, it's been a very enjoyable time. Are you ready to tell me about you – and your past?" he asked with a challenging twinkle in his eye.
"You answered a question with a question, prophet. But I'll answer you. I was pretty involved in a church situation for several years."
Tim continued to watch her closely. "Why did you stop?"
Tasha shrugged. "It's a long story, not one I enjoy telling. Suffice it to say that it was just a phase in my life that ended some time ago."
Tim raised an eyebrow, but held his tongue. The Lord God Almighty was never just "...a phase in someone's life". But he could well imagine that she didn't want to discuss it with him. He could see 'prodigal' written all over her. He smiled out the window, and shook his head. If she ever once just cracked open enough, it would be all over. And the fire they’d experienced that evening had cleared out most of the barriers. Tim could feel it.
She pulled into her garage and shut the door behind them. They were quiet as they went up the stairs.
