What's Luck Got to do With it?

CHAPTER 1

If anyone told Trevor that he would be standing at a Las Vegas casino on a blistering summer’s day, he would have laughed and told them that they were sorely mistaken. As a rule, church pastors did not gamble and most certainly Las Vegas would not be on the list of places to visit.

But here he stood breathing hot desert air that blew across his skin like a furnace, making rivers of sweat roll down his back. There was no relief from the blistering sun and no gentle breeze to cool his skin. And Trevor was mighty thirsty. Tonight he would return to his hotel room at the Sahara and shower until the last of desert dust and dirty streets were washed from his body and soul. After three days searching there was no trace of his brother-in-law and nothing he could do about it but pray once more that God would lead him to Tony and stop his latest gambling spree.

Drinks are free in Las Vegas, Trevor remembered. But he felt guilty; the offer was for gamblers and he did not qualify. He searched the last two buildings hoping to find a drinking fountain somewhere among the tangle of slot machines that whirred and pinged and called to patrons. So far he hadn’t any luck, Trevor thought without humor at his unintended pun. His thirst drove Trevor and he had to ask for a drink before his throat completely closed. Maybe if he played just one quarter he wouldn’t experience such guilt over a simple request. Surely God would understand that he wasn’t really gambling.

Stepping inside, Trevor blinked as eyes that still hurt from sunlight became accustomed to the dark. It was loud and crowded as he wove around flashing machines deep within the cavern-like building. As with all the other clubs there was no exit and no way around the building without passing through or doubling back to the casino. He was rewarded at the end of his trek with a huge buffet so vast that he was sure his food would be cold before reaching the table. Feeling his pocket for his wallet, Trevor winced as he realized it was on the hotel dresser and groaned, knowing his choice was either starvation or to travel all the way across town to retrieve his credit card. He felt in his pockets and came up with one measly quarter. His parched throat and growling stomach mocked Trevor as he tried to decide what to do. Finally the hungry, tired man wove his way back outside in the killer sun and hailed a cab to his hotel. Promising the driver a big tip, he hurried to his room and found the wallet, rushed downstairs, paid the man and was about to accept another ride back to the buffet when something across the street caught his eye. It was a woman, and she was struggling with a big, beefy man twice her size that swung at her with his fist. He had her by the hair and yelled obscenities as she tried to wrestle away while slapping at him and pleading to be let go. Without another thought, Trevor leaped away from the curb and dodging traffic, ran across the street. The woman was petite and fragile compared to the burly, towering man and her skin was already bruising Trevor jumped between them and demanded they stop.

She stole my wallet! The trucker shouted as Trevor wedged his body between the two. I gave her a ride and she rewarded me by stealing my money!

The woman stopped resisting and pulled her torn blouse over a jogging bra. Her hair fell in tangles out of a ponytail and she wiped at a spot of blood on her lip. The trucker’s arms bore fresh scratches that bled as he swiped at her once again.

Stop! Trevor yelled, pushing the man backward. He turned to the woman. Do you have his wallet?

She shook her head fiercely. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he tried to make me to show how grateful I was for the ride. I thought he was being nice when he offered to drive me here!

Bull! the trucker replied, turning out his pockets. She took it, search her bag!

I’m not the police, Trevor advised him. He looked to the open truck door. Can you maybe look for it on the seat?

Slapping his thighs, the driver climbed to the cab and searched around. It’s not here.

Trevor leaned down and retrieved the wallet, which apparently had broken loose from the driver’s belt loop. He handed it to the man, who opened it and counted bills.

I didn’t take anything, the woman said through red-rimmed eyes. I just needed a ride.

The driver gave both of them a look that would melt steel, climbed to the cab and slammed the truck door closed. He jammed on the clutch and pulled away so fast both Trevor and the woman jumped to avoid being hit.

She slipped to the hot pavement and dropped her head into dirty hands. Nobody does anything to be nice. I knew that. But I just couldn’t, not again. I’m so tired of paying for everything.

Trevor watched her with wrinkled brow. She was grimy, soaked in sweat, her clothes half hanging from her frame. But even with her disheveled appearance he could see she was a beauty, eyes of blue ice and her blonde hair just slightly too bleached. In another circumstance, Trevor might have sought her attention, but at this moment he was staring at a possible thief and who knew what else she was capable of? Not for one moment did he think the wallet had fallen on the ground; she had ample opportunity to throw it during the struggle. But she looked so forlorn, defeated. Trevor was a man of mercy and helped her stand, wondering that the sizzling pavement had not burned through to her skin.

You look like I feel. He meant it sympathetically, but she frowned and pulled her hair from the band.

I just need to wash up. In her bag was a moist towelette and it only served to smear the grime across her neck and face. A broken brush with no handle was all she had to tame her locks, and she had no mirror to check her progress. Trevor looked toward the hotel and thought of his cool room with a pulsating shower.

If you want, I have a room at this hotel. You could shower and change.

She gave him a murderous look. I don’t need your help. I’m getting a room of my own, soon as I get a job.

He raised an eyebrow. Tonight? What place pays as you…Oh? He blinked as it dawned on him in which profession she must be.

I’m not what you think! She shoved the brush in her bag and turned away. You men are all alike!

Wait! Trevor touched her shoulder and she shrank away from him. His heart grieved for the poor woman who had obviously lived a difficult life. I’m sorry—my mistake. But the offer still stands. And…let me buy you dinner. I was just about to eat anyway and I’d prefer to have company.

She eyed him doubtfully, but her hands brushed absently at her hair and clothes. I can’t pay you back.

He smiled and began leading her to his hotel. I’m storing up treasure in heaven. It’s much more valuable. Smiling at her puzzled frown, Trevor explained, I’m a pastor, uh… man of God, if you understand that.

In Vegas? She was skeptical.

Trevor shrugged. On a mission of mercy. My brother-in-law ran off with the house payment and most of his savings. Cassie, my sister is desperate. They’ll lose the house if I can’t find him. I’ve scoured this whole city in the last two days. I fly home tomorrow with or without him.

It’s a big town. He could be anywhere.

He agreed. I’m praying that God will lead me to Tony.

God doesn’t exist. She shook her head sadly. If he did, why would he let bad things happen?

Trevor assumed she meant bad things happen to her. We live in an imperfect world. Evil men want to hurt others, and they do. God loves you, and has provided a way out of that hurt.

I wish I could believe that. She was silent as they entered the building and Trevor noticed the disproving stares of fellow guests. He took her to his room on the eighth floor and opened the door, waiting while she walked in ahead of him.

There’s the bathroom and they left fresh towels this morning so go ahead and shower. I’ll wait out here and then we’ll get some dinner, okay? He held his hands out in a peace offering. No strings. I’m not after anything but a companion for dinner.

She stood, hesitating at the door, so he went across the room and sank into a chair. Biting her lip, the woman gathered her bag to her chest and swallowed.

Holly. My name is Holly.

I’m Trevor. Take your time. I’ll just watch some television.

Holly nodded and disappeared behind the door.

CHAPTER 2

He seemed nice, but then so did countless others who smiled, said flattering things and then demanded payment later in flesh. Holly had been through this so many times she couldn't recall faces of men—losers who wined and dined her and then forced a price that she was not willing to pay. Just do it, her mother said so many times. It’s how men are and you have to learn to use them also to get what you can. Holly’s mother had been content with money, jewelry and clothes as payment for her services but that wasn’t Holly, no matter how her mother encouraged. She dreamed of a father who loved her, of a family to belong to, a husband who would never send her away, never use her body for pleasure and never hit her when she displeased him. She wanted to eat a meal with money that hadn’t been borrowed, stolen or earned with her body, wear clothes that weren’t old or free from a mission. Most of all she wanted to be rid of the nagging guilt, the shame that kept her from holding her head up in public. It was as if she had been branded early on—thief, liar, easy prey, but that was not Holly, it never was. All those things were tools to survive.

She locked the bathroom door and undressed, holding her breath as she listened for any movement in the room. All she heard was the muffled sound of the television set as the man named Trevor changed channels repeatedly. He’s restless, she thought and that means he’ll be impatient and angry when I take too long in the shower. Then he’ll hit me or at the very least snap at me. She was trapped, again, and despair circled her like a toothy monster, waiting to pounce. It never changed, no matter whom she was with; from her mother’s boyfriends to the corner grocer, they all wanted one thing from Holly. From one city to the next, she ran, hoping for rescue, a safe haven for her tortured body and soul. She just wanted to stop, to find a place and stay without fear or hopelessness. How long could she endure her fight to survive? Was there truly a place of safety?

She showered fast, shaving her legs and putting on makeup without allowing the mirror to defog. Leaving her hair wet, Holly slicked it back on her head and captured it in a clasp, then donned her only clean clothes. Stuffing the dirty ones into her bag, she adjusted it on her shoulder and opened the bathroom door. The man, Trevor jumped to his feet and smiled, but his eyes were curious.

Wow, that was quick. You must be hungry.

Holly let out a relieved breath when he made no move toward her, but held her bag tight against her clothes.

Do you want to leave your stuff here while we eat? Trevor asked, switching off the television.

She shook her head and held the bag tighter. If she returned to this room he would make her stay, she was sure. No, I have to be leaving right after the meal. I…I have a job offer.

He frowned skeptically, but she stared at him, daring Trevor to catch her lie. Though he said nothing she still felt the sting of guilt, reminding herself that it was a necessary protection from any advances. She stepped aside as he opened the room door and let her into the hall. They rode the elevator to the ground floor and walked forever through a hotel and casino and up another flight of stairs to a second floor buffet. He paid for both of them with a credit card and offered to get her a drink while she filled her plate with food. Holly let him, and brought extra meat as an offering for his kindness. She didn’t believe for one minute, however that he wasn’t going to demand payment later, and watched for a way to run before the meal was over.

He left the drinks and went to find food. Holly ate slowly, watching him as he wove around the buffet tables, his brown eyes furrowed in concentration as he made his choices. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, and more average than muscular, though he wasn’t scrawny by any means. A pastor, did he say? She thought preachers wore black coats and shirts with little white squares in their collars. His hair was not right—every preacher on television combed it back like Elvis, at least that’s what Holly assumed. Not as if she watched many; why would she? If there was a God, Holly knew he had no use for people like her. God was for the good people who raised families and lived in houses with white picket fences, not a homeless wanderer who sold her soul to men in exchange for shelter and food. Holly’s punishment for surviving was to be an outcast, and her lot in life was to be used. She watched as Trevor, the pastor heaped potatoes on his plate and headed toward the table. I wonder if his God will be mad at him for being around someone like me.

I’m so hungry I could eat seven helpings, Trevor said as he joined Holly at the table. Did you see there’s pizza at the other end of the room? I almost went to a buffet earlier today that was so big it took up an entire floor.

Why didn’t you? Holly asked.

He shrugged and noticed that she had barely touched her food. I forgot my wallet. That’s why I was outside the hotel when you and that trucker…uh, when you were.

She looked at her plate. Trevor waited, unsure if she was shy or unwilling to answer. He folded his hands and said a quick blessing over the food. Looking up, he was surprised to see her watching with wide eyes as he finished.

I always pray before eating, he explained, and bit into his roast beef. It was like manna from heaven to the starving man. With a groan of delight he closed his eyes to savor the taste.

I brought you some ham, Holly said as he swallowed. She took a clean fork and transferred it to his plate.

He smiled. Thank you, that was very nice. You haven’t touched your food.

I will. She swirled her potatoes around the plate, and shifted nervously. Trevor ate silently, hoping to make her feel comfortable. He was on his second serving before she spoke again.

Why do you pray over food?

Trevor laid his fork on a napkin and looked at Holly. I ask God to bless the food and make it nourishing to my body, and I give thanks that for what He has supplied. All good things come from Him.

What if there are no good things? She dropped her hand to the chair and searched his face.

I find good in all situations. God is with us no matter what we go through. He knew as he spoke that it sounded trite. This woman, who looked barely more than a teen, had probably been through more in her short life than all his twenty-nine years. The worst thing Trevor had to bear was his sister’s ill-chosen husband and the second-hand trials of living with an alcoholic. He was forever cleaning up Tony’s messes or helping his sister with payments that were behind or forgotten in an alcoholic binge. If not for Trevor, his nephew Charlie might starve and the family live on the streets. Being a pastor and having a large old building for the parsonage was very handy; someday it might be home to Cassie and Charlie also.

Holly bit her lip and the look pierced Trevor’s soul. He had given her an easy answer, one he knew by heart and preached almost weekly. It worked with his small congregation in the prosperous manufacturing town with comfortable homes and adequate income. Never before had he questioned the validity of his sermons, but with one look, Trevor knew he was preaching a gospel that only applied to his middle class followers. Holly was one of the lost souls that he had heard about but never really met in his position at the church. Raised in a devout home with caring, dutiful parents, Trevor was surrounded by like-minded, comfortable people who didn’t have to make tough choices or wonder from where the next meal would come. Here, in the flesh was the downtrodden that he read about in mission magazines, one who Trevor might never have known in his comfy life. I feel like I’m seeing the world for the first time, Trevor thought. Las Vegas was as foreign to him as Australia, a frontier that he would never have crossed if it were not for his wayward brother-in-law.

She finally finished her plate and said she was going for dessert. Trevor nodded and watched as Holly crossed the room, her head down like a chastised child. She was beautiful, even as she denied it with her body language, and Trevor wondered who had wounded her spirit so badly that it showed in her every step. Who could live in such a state? Trevor wanted to show her the love of Christ and teach her that she was precious in the eyes of the Savior, but he had only the next few moments, because her body told him that she was poised for flight. She didn’t trust him, Trevor could tell and once she was gone, he would lose the chance to show this beaten, lost soul the way to salvation. He vowed to make the next few minutes count.

I’m really thankful that you joined me for dinner, Trevor began. Immediately warning bells rang in Holly’s head. She felt for her bag with a free hand and gripped it tight, looking for the nearest exit. He didn’t go for desert, as she was counting on, and now she was trapped, unless Holly could lose him in the casino crowds. He touched her arm and she stiffened, panic rising in her throat.

He let go with a puzzled frown. I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…

She shrugged her shoulders. Thanks for dinner. Are you going to have dessert?

In a minute. He leaned back on the chair and patted his stomach. I’m so full I can’t move right now. Are you in a hurry to leave?

Yes, Holly said quickly. That job…

She could tell he didn’t believe her but his expression wasn’t angry. He smiled into her eyes, a casual grin that threatened to disarm her defenses—almost as if he was sincere. Be strong, Holly. You’ve been fooled before.

I feel like I need to explain my comments earlier, about seeing God in all circumstances. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. I didn’t mean to say that we don’t suffer greatly at times and wonder if God really cares. I just wanted you to understand that He knows everything about you and wants to help.

Holly relaxed her grip on the bag, her need to know greater than the want to run. How? I wish every day that life wasn't so hard. It never happens. Your God doesn’t help people like me.

He’s helping you right now, Holly. Trevor pulled a tract from his wallet. He sent me today because He loves you and it’s time for you to know Him. Read this tonight, in your hotel room and ask God to show you the truth.

I will, she promised, meaning it. But what do you mean by saying he sent you to me? Did he say, ‘Take Holly to dinner’?

Trevor smiled. Not in words. God orchestrated the circumstances and we ended up together at just the right moment. It wasn’t me that saved you from that truck driver’s anger, it was God, and He used me to do it.

Holly pondered this for a long time. God saw her struggling with the truck driver, and saved her from a beating even though she had stolen his wallet. It was out of desperation, she had no money and after what the man had tried…Holly figured she earned the money and she was only going to take twenty dollars, enough to eat. But that was wrong, to steal, wasn’t it? And shouldn’t she be punished, not rewarded? This was something she could not grasp.

If I may be so bold, I’m telling you that God is calling you now, Holly. He has a plan for your life, and it’s good things. But you have to give your heart to Him, that’s all He asks. Can you do that?

I don’t know, she answered honestly. I’ve never heard this before. I don’t understand.

Trevor nodded sympathetically. You won’t till you invite Him into your heart. Then begins a lifetime of lessons.

Are you still learning? She thought men of God knew all the answers.

He laughed and assured her he was. What I do know for sure is that God is providing you a way out of your troubles, tonight. You have to be bold and take that step toward Him. I’ll help you.

I need to think about it, Holly hedged. It was too easy and she had seen too much to just jump at his words. She needed to know that God was real and that he truly meant to lead her. Twisting her bag, she thanked Trevor again for his kindness. She wanted to run before he turned on her and demanded what all the others had; it would crush all her thoughts about the goodness of God if he were really like everyone else. Good men don’t seek women like her unless they want to cross over into the dark side. Holly jumped from her seat and scooted through the crowd before Trevor could protest.

CHAPTER 3

He took a taxi down the strip and then walked on foot again to find Tony but by nightfall he was hot, sweaty and his feet hurt like fire from walking miles of casinos. Running short on cash and not willing to spend more, Trevor walked the miles of strip under bright, colorful lights that called his attention to yet another establishment. It was over, his search and he had failed. Tomorrow he would go back to Ohio and tell his sister that she would lose the family home; nothing he could do would stop that. But he planned to allow them shelter in the parsonage, if Tony stayed away. Trevor didn’t want to break up the marriage but most everything in his home belonged to the church and if Tony stole any of it, the loss would be to his denomination, not Trevor. That was unacceptable.

He thought about Holly and wondered where she was now. She had run; he knew she would but he prayed for her safety and that Holly would find God in her life. Hit and run witnessing, Trevor called the encounter as he stopped to rub at sore ankles. He saw the blinking vertical sign that named the Sahara and breathed another prayer of thanks that he was almost home. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man—could it be Tony? Trevor ducked into the casino to look. After a half-hour of searching he was sorely in need of a chair but the only seats were in front of slot machines or gaming tables. Trevor sighed and sat in front of a huge, pulsating machine that boasted a million-dollar payoff for a mere quarter's bet. He was thirsty and searched his pocket for a quarter. If he played it, Trevor could drink without guilt. He ordered from a passing waitress and waited till she brought him a coke. With a gulp to soothe his parched throat, he dropped his quarter in the slot and pulled on the oversized handle. He reached for his drink again as bells clanged and the machine lit up like a theater marquee, and the whole room turned to see the excitement. It took a moment for Trevor to realize what had happened. Coins poured out like water from the machine until they overflowed onto the floor and security guards hurried to help him capture his winnings.

Oh, man! Trevor used his shirt to grab the coins and accepted buckets from the casino employees. The machine whirred and clanged and quarters rained for minutes more, and finally stopped…but the machine didn’t. It kept making noise and the lights flashed until he was awarded the equivalent of 400,000 quarters—$100,000! Trevor almost fainted; how would he explain this to his congregation back home? Casino employees helped him carry buckets of quarters while Trevor followed behind, his belly exposed under a shirt heavy with coin. At the customer service booth he was given cash and a warning from casino officials to secure his money immediately.

I—I guess I’ll go right to my hotel, Trevor stammered, not believing the amount of money in his hands. He had never held such a quantity, not even in a check! He had won the money in a most embarrassing and unacceptable way—gambling. It was absurd and unreal.

Lord, I’m really sorry, he began, apologizing to God for his windfall. What do I do now?

He stood blinking his eyes in the midst of a cheering crowd and waved weakly at the smiling faces. He prayed they would make no fuss or take his picture; it was bad enough that he had gambled, let alone won. Trevor thanked everyone and pocketed the cash in a bag provided by the casino. The search for Tony forgotten, he pulled out his hotel key and started the long walk through the casino and then back to his hotel.

A man and woman, both in their late forties stopped him and offered congratulations. Let me buy you a drink, the man offered and signaled to a waitress. We’re here from the Midwest on business. I’ve never seen anyone win on a single quarter. Maybe you could give me some tips.

Thanks, but I wouldn’t know what to tell you, Trevor replied. He sure didn’t want these people to know that he was a church pastor who preached against gambling from the pulpit. He politely accepted the drink and stood by a display of older slot machines while they drank. Once finished, he set his cup down and said goodnight to the couple. As he turned, Holly appeared and latched on to his arm.

Thought I’d never find you, she gushed, pulling him away from his new friends. She gave them a menacing stare and hustled Trevor away into the hot desert night.

Holly! Where did you come from? Trevor asked, puzzled. Why did you rip my arm off to get me outside?

She looked behind them and moved him faster toward the hotel. It was still a distance, even if the sign could be seen clearly. He turned and waved at the couple who gave him the drink; they were only a few paces behind. Holly urged him to keep moving and he did though his legs suddenly felt weak and rubbery.

I’m a little out of breath, Trevor said, trying to keep up with her gait. His eyes blurred and dizziness washed over him, but she would not let him rest, and spurred him on to the hotel. At the doors, she called for security and asked to be escorted to the Trevor's room without saying which floor. As the elevator doors closed, Trevor had a glimpse of the couple who followed. They weren’t happy.

It wasn’t a coincidence that Holly was present when Trevor won a fortune at the slot machine. She had been following him at a distance the entire time, watching as he combed casinos for his brother-in-law. Not once did he ogle the waitresses or stop to gamble, and he wasn’t interested in any of the games. Until the final place where he stopped, visibly tired and rubbing his sore legs did he finally succumb to the lure of one-armed bandits. Holly knew he would; just as any other man, he was weak. It was only a matter of time and opportunity.

When he won buckets of money she could see the sharks circling him like chum on the water and she saw what no one else did; the couple who offered him a drink had laced the liquid with powder and Holly knew he was going to be drugged and robbed. Soon he would be incapacitated by a drug that heightened emotions and left the person unable or unwilling to resist. Trevor would be helped to his room, separated from his money, and then tomorrow he would have no memory of