Rapture's Witness (1-3 Left Behind)(Paperback)Tim Lahaye & Jerry B Jenkins
ByTim Lahaye & Jerry B Jenkins
Size229 x 175 mm
Series - CollectionLeft Behind
Number of Pages784 pp
PublisherTyndale House Publishers
RAYFORD STEELE’S MIND was on a woman he had never touched. With
his fully loaded 747 on autopilot above the Atlantic en route to a 6 a.m. landing
at Heathrow, Rayford had pushed from his mind thoughts of his family.
Over spring break he would spend time with his wife and twelve-year-old
son. Their daughter would be home from college, too. But for now, with his
first officer fighting sleep, Rayford imagined Hattie Durham’s smile and looked
forward to their next meeting.
Hattie was Rayford’s senior flight attendant. He hadn’t seen her in more
than an hour.
Rayford used to look forward to getting home to his wife. Irene was attrac-
tive and vivacious enough, even at forty. But lately he had found himself repelled
by her obsession with religion. It was all she could talk about.
God was OK with Rayford Steele. Rayford even enjoyed church occasionally.
But since Irene had hooked up with a smaller congregation and was into weekly
Bible studies and church every Sunday, Rayford had become uncomfortable.
Hers was not a church where people gave you the benefit of the doubt, assumed
the best about you, and let you be. People there had actually asked him, to his
face, what God was doing in his life.
“Blessing my socks off ” had become the smiling response that seemed to
satisfy them, but he found more and more excuses to be busy on Sundays.
Rayford tried to tell himself it was his wife’s devotion to a divine suitor that
caused his mind to wander. But he knew the real reason was his own libido.
Besides, Hattie Durham was drop-dead gorgeous. No one could argue that.
What he enjoyed most was that she was a toucher. Nothing inappropriate, noth-
ing showy. She simply touched his arm as she brushed past or rested her hand
gently on his shoulder when she stood behind his seat in the cockpit.
It wasn’t her touch alone that made Rayford enjoy her company. He could
tell from her expressions, her demeanor, her eye contact that she at least admired
and respected him. Whether she was interested in anything more, he could only
guess. And so he did.
They had spent time together, chatting for hours over drinks or dinner,
sometimes with coworkers, sometimes not. He had not returned so much as
one brush of a finger, but his eyes had held her gaze, and he could only assume
his smile had made its point.