I, Saul by Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

shoulders. “I brought it for you anyway.”
    â€œYou did not.”
    â€œI did,” he said, turning her to face him. “My thermostat runs high.”

    She relaxed as he helped get her arms into the sleeves. The sweatshirt enveloped her and the long sleeves hid her hands. He zipped it to her neck and put his hands on her shoulders. “Better?”
    â€œYes,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
    And in that instant Augie pictured Sofia with him forever. The vision raced through his mind, their waking together, eating together, going to church together, raising a family. The scenes were as clear as day and stunned him speechless. In the shadowy light he gently cupped her face. “You know, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here right now.”
    He drew her face toward his, and as their lips met she wrapped her arms around him. When he pulled back they stood gazing at each other, inches apart. “August Knox,” she said, “I was not expecting that.”
    â€œNeed I apologize?”
    â€œYou’d better not. All the way up here I was planning what I was going to say when we reached the top. Like what a great guide you are. How smart. How wonderful with people. How passionate about these places and about your faith.”
    â€œOkay, I’m listening.”
    â€œThat’s not what I want to say anymore. I want to say what you said, about not wanting to be anywhere else.”
    He drew her close again and they held each other tight. “Have we started something?” he said.
    â€œI sure hope so,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
    He pulled back. “Tears?”
    â€œI’m already missing you, Augie. We fly home tomorrow. When will I see you again?”
    â€œAs soon as I can arrange a trip to Athens.”

12
Precious Gems

FIRST-CENTURY ROME

    Luke was sorry to see Mark go, especially after the lift he had given Paul. But with Paul’s memoir waiting, Luke didn’t mind having the old missionary all to himself again. The writings had the potential to be priceless. Paul had never penned a simple letter to a friend or a church without loading it with truth so poignant and beautifully written that the whole of the body of believers benefitted from it. Better than that, Paul’s thoughts and reasoning seemed to be born of his rich relationship with Christ. He wrote with an urgency and authority that amazed and thrilled his readers. Would his memoir prove any less?
    That evening in the dungeon Paul riffled through the parchments, asking Luke to move the light higher. Finally he pulled a huge sheaf of sheets from the rest and handed them to Luke. “We must not wait any longer. Take these and start reading them. Guard them with your life,and bring them back to me. I need your counsel. We need to talk these through, make certain they are accurate, complete, and most of all meaningful.”
    Luke tucked the documents away and rushed to Primus’ home as if bearing precious gems. His body ached from the fatigue of the day, but his mind was alive. In his room he disrobed, then wrapped himself in his cloak and sat at his table, lamp lit, parchments stacked before him. He lifted the first and tipped it toward the light.

13
The Offer

TEXAS
WEDNESDAY, MAY 7, 7:55 P.M.

    Augie Knox stood outside his dying father’s room in the ICU, preoccupied with getting out of town. Growing up, had it not been for the oasis of his mother’s gentle spirit, he would have died of thirst in the desert of his father’s indifference.
    Edsel Knox was widely respected, a precise, articulate, brilliant theologian. But nothing of the truth of what he knew so thoroughly seemed to reach his heart. He could explain anything. He seemed able to personally experience nothing. Despite all this, Marie Knox spoke lovingly to him and about him, caressed him, held his hand.
    At home he was a roiling cauldron of silence. Jokes were anathema.