Kassidy's Crescendo (8 page)

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Authors: Marianne Evans

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Kassidy's Crescendo
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Her brows knit while she continued to study him. “I don't know what to make of you. On one hand, you're the kind of man about which any woman would dream. On the other hand there's this layer of carefully controlled drive, an aggression that seems to push you.”

“I can't argue with what is.”

She rested a hand on top of his in a hurry. “And I'm not criticizing. The combination fascinates me. God has given you such incredible gifts and benefits. You're successful. You're confident—compelling. I'm drawn to that. Who wouldn't be? What I struggle with is your acceptance of that fact. Who are you when the stage is empty and dark? What fills you when there's nothing to claim your focus except”—she offered a little shrug—“life? Who are you, Drew? I'd really like to know.”

By now, a number of reactions swirled through his eyes, across the smoothly sculpted features of his face. Vulnerability juxtaposed against strength of will. Fear did a dance with a quest she sensed—had sensed from the beginning—to stretch toward something deeper, more fulfilling, than his life presently offered.

Time to breathe—and move on. Kassidy rolled her shoulders and sighed, her body sending the undeniable signal that sleep called—pronto. “Oh, man. Not even a sugar buzz is enough to keep me awake much longer. How weird that I can actually feel the energy seep from my body.” She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to go fuzzy and drift for a moment.

Until Drew slid his thumb slow and light against the backs of her fingertips. Her eyes popped open.

“I have an idea, KC.”

“What's that?”

“We have a week-long break coming up. I'm going to spend some time with my family in the city, but maybe we could meet in Westerville for a few days. Maybe I could stay with Liam at his condo.”

Adrenaline returned with a final push; anticipation already skipped against her skin. “I could make you dinner. Show you around. That'd be fantastic. I'd love it.”

“Know what other gift you possess in abundance?”

Kassidy shook her head while Drew pushed his chair back and stood. “You possess an openness that won't be denied. For better or for worse.”

“And just which side of the coin did I land on tonight, being so open? Better or worse?” She posed the questions in a sassy tone while Drew stepped behind and lifted her coat from its spot on the back of her chair. After passing her the accompanying scarf, he held the coat open so she could slide her arms inside.

He broke the small measure of distance between them and traced her lower lip with a fingertip, a feather stroke that whispered of passion and promise.

“The better side, KC. Definitely the better side.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6

 

The following Sunday, Drew rose from bed early, showered, shaved, and donned a two-piece suit of gray, a white dress shirt and pale blue tie.

All the while, his nerves performed a roughshod tap dance.

Every tick of the clock inched him closer and closer to departure. In a few minutes, he'd meet Kassidy and other tour members in the lobby. From there they'd walk, en masse, to Queen of Saints Church for ten o'clock Mass.

Dessert and coffee had clinched the decision for him, but Kassidy knew nothing of his plan to attend services. He wanted no fanfare. He wanted only to blend in with the others and determine for himself what was going on in the stretch of land between his head and his heart.

Looking in the mirror, he straightened the line of his coat, smoothed the fall of his tie. After pocketing the access card to his room, Drew pushed open the door and strode to the elevator. When he punched the call button, he noticed a finite tremble in his fingers so he breathed deep.

This was no big deal. Really.

Drew stepped inside the elevator, senses tingling—mind at war.

Going to church today wasn't about finding Christ. This wasn't about finding a way to Kassidy Cartwright either, except for the fact that she had challenged him. In eloquent terms she had urged him to confront a number of valid points about faith and nourishing his spirit. Those points were well worth exploring.

The elevator descended. Drew leaned against a gleaming brass rail and watched floor numbers flash past. Gathering with the troops would be his first testing of the waters. How would they react? Would he be accepted? Would Kassidy understand he was searching for answers, not a means by which to win her admiration and affection?

As soon as the doors slid open, he heard laughter and familiar voices. Drew cleared his throat and slowly stepped across the threshold.

Hesitation became a debilitating ice-stroke against his arms and legs as he approached his colleagues. A storm of doubt and uncertainty brought his footsteps to a stop.

Perhaps he had made a mistake. Should he even infringe upon the scene?

He noticed Paul Moreland carrying on a conversation with Liam. The head sound tech did nothing to hide his surprise when he noticed Drew's arrival. Surprise, and unless Drew was mistaken, a hearty level of skepticism as well.

Paul arched a brow and returned his attention to Liam; Drew nearly fled for the elevator. This was ridiculous. What was he thinking?

Those who seek Me will always find Me.

Drew froze in place. Shook his head. Where on earth had that come from? How could a whisper roll like thunder? How could simple words vibrate through his head, his chest, with such resonating power? The message held him in an odd form of suspense.

His seeking gaze drifted to Kassidy. A white blouse, paired with a simple black skirt, black leather pumps, was so classic in style, yet at the same time…Drew swallowed against a dry throat and a flood of need…impeccably feminine. Thick waves of hair slid against her shoulders as she laughed, eyes dancing while she carried on what appeared to be a playful, animated conversation with Aileen. Typical.

When she tossed her hair, she spotted him. A flash of joyful surprise was enhanced by a radiant smile. The light in her eyes sent doubt scattering into sweet, soft winds. She left Aileen behind without much more than a fast backward glance and hasty dismissal.

“Hey, Drew.”

Her greeting was smooth and breezy, but the possessive way she slid her arm through his, the wave of happiness that warmed her aura, cued him in on how much his presence meant.

So worth the doubt struggles, Drew thought.

“Hey yourself, KC.” Suddenly restless, not quite knowing what to do with his hands, he stuffed them in his pockets and continued to survey the growing group.

“I'm so glad to see you.”

“Surprised is probably more like it, huh?” Drew gave her an uncertain grin, shuffled his feet a bit. Kassidy continued to hold on tight, her connection a welcome antidote to his gradually lessening nerves.

“More like relieved.”

“Relieved?” Not what he expected—but Kassidy always managed to catch him off guard.

“I'm relieved I didn't scare you off, or come on too strong the other night.”

“You're fine.”

“You say fine, others would probably say bossy.”

Drew laughed; shoulder tensions eased. “Not at all. You woke me up, actually.”

She peered at him, waiting, so Drew assured her with a tender look, with the feathery stroke of his fingertips against her cheek. “I just…well…you fueled a desire to check things out for myself. I want to see what going to church is all about.”

She turned into his touch, and her smile never wavered. “Will you sit with me?”

Lifelines came in no prettier package. He covered her hand with his. “I was hoping you'd ask.”

The last few stragglers arrived, and the assemblage trekked to church. During services, Drew followed Kassidy's lead. There were songs and readings and prayers that the bulk of the congregation seemed to know by heart. In those instances, she leaned against him and shared an open missal.

The pattern of the Mass followed a traditional set of prayers, Scripture offerings, hymns, and a sermon. There was stillness here, a restful sense of contentment that Drew soaked in like a healing balm. The only shaky part came when the priest began to prepare for Communion.

What was he supposed to do about
that
?

Doubts homed in all over again, but he joined Kassidy when she knelt.

He bowed his head, closed his eyes, not quite knowing what to say to the Almighty—except:

God, You don't know me, but, if You're there, and if You're listening, can You please help me out? I'm new to this. Awkward, for sure, and I need some guidance. I'm searching—in lots of ways. I need quantification. I need to know you're real.

I know you well and deep, My son. You're Mine, and those who seek Me will always find Me.

There it was again, that voice, that instruction, even harder-hitting this time. Tightness closed his throat. A stinging override of emotion forced him to breathe deep and find his way back to center.

Pew by pew, starting from the front, parishioners filed forward to receive Communion. Drew watched until a subtle nudge from Kassidy snagged his attention. She tipped her head close and a waft of rose and vanilla tickled his nose. “Do you see the couple that just stepped into the aisle?”

“Yes.” They were younger, following after folks who appeared to be their friends or perhaps family members. The pair moved into line for Communion, arms crossed over their chests.

Kassidy looked into his eyes. “Everyone is invited forward, because no one should feel like they're apart from God's love. Come with us, arms folded, and you won't receive the Eucharist, but you'll be given a blessing from the priest.”

Like he deserved that? He had no time to comment because their pew was summoned by an usher who allowed entry into the main aisle. Drew's legs felt heavy, his steps labored by insecurity. Nonetheless, he followed after Kassidy and watched those ahead of him, gauging what might happen, trying to rebuke intimidation.

Kassidy approached the lip of the altar. Bowing her head, she took a final step toward the priest. Looking up, she opened her folded hands and accepted the Host in her palm. Her reverence wrapped around him as he followed, and met the kind, dark-eyed gaze of the priest. Father extended a hand, made a sign of the cross.

“May the love and peace of Christ live within you forever. Amen.”

“Amen,” Drew whispered.

He returned to the pew and knelt, but had no idea what to say, or how to approach a God he had only now begun to consider.

All the same, he couldn't deny the vibration that moved through his soul like a summons.

After Mass, the crew disbursed for a late breakfast then a few hours of rest before sound check and the evening's performance.

Kassidy seemed in no rush to leave. Farewells were exchanged, but she stayed put in the pew and Drew stuck close.

Gradually the sanctuary emptied. Silence, soothing and welcome, filled the air.

“I'm so glad you came with us, Drew. Until I saw you in the hotel lobby, I had no idea how much it meant to me. I hope you enjoyed Mass.”

“I did.” The words were sincere. “I felt a lot more comfortable than I thought I would.”

“I'm glad for that.” Kassidy paused. “Before we go, I wondered if I could do something.”

His arm rested along the back of the long, wooden seat. He curved it in slightly, dancing fingertips against her shoulders, along a soft wave of her hair. “What's that?”

“I want to pray with you.”

Drew's caress went still. Her hesitance was laced by a sense of hope he could all but taste. That fact touched him and softened the hardness in his heart about matters of faith.

“Of course.”

Not knowing what else to do, Drew straightened and clasped his hands. Did she expect anything from him, or—

Kassidy closed her eyes, breathed. He didn't lower his head. Instead, he watched her, captivated. She slid her hands against his and rested them there.

“Lord, thank you for today. Thank you for a wonderful time of worship. Connecting to You is a gift and a blessing to me. I'm grateful for Drew. I'm grateful for his presence on the tour, and in my life. Thank you for the opportunity to get to know him better. Jesus, please bless and guide him always.”

Restfulness held sway. Drew wanted to add a few words of his own but uncertainty stood in the way, a peace-blocking sentinel. A frustrating blockade. What could he say? What should he say? An “Amen” almost passed his lips but stalled against a storm of disquiet.

Kassidy didn't appear to mind. Lifting gracefully, she stood and smiled into his eyes. Such transcendent joy in her gaze—such
contentment
. That was the key ingredient, Drew discovered. Contentment. Kassidy Cartwright could take or leave every circumstance of her life based on her love and trust in Christ.

Amazing.

“C'mon, handsome. I'm getting hungry. Let's join the others for brunch.”

He ignored the sassy invitation and squeezed her hand, using a tug to keep her in place. “KC. Thanks. Thanks for all of this. I really mean it.”

“I'm glad you're here, Drew. I really mean it.”

He shared a grin with her and stood. She didn't need the reassurance. She was relaxed and happy—thoroughly compelling.

She tilted her head and studied him for a few seconds. “You know, you might feel like you need an introduction to God, but you don't. And God doesn't need an introduction to you. He's known you forever. He's loved you that long, too.”

His shoulders bent. Resistance fled. He stared at her in wonder. “Where does that come from, KC? That absolute faith? That conviction? How did you find it?” The answer just might satisfy an escalating ache in his heart.

“By finding God's goodness at the end of every empty pathway that stretched in front of me. If you like, I'll go into detail once we're away from the crush and press of the tour.” She slid her hand against his forearm in a tender caress. “There's too much distraction in the here and now, and this is important. I'll tell you all about it when we get to Westerville. Promise.”

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