Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 01 - Gunfight at Grace Gulch by Darlene Franklin

attended college, sagged at one end. Before I could warn Audie about the spring he should avoid, our dog and cat jumped into place and curled together. Ralphie the dog slept there every chance he got and his weight had pressed it down over the years as his bulk increased. Jenna plopped down next to the animals. She crooned over them and scratched the pony-sized dog under his chin.
    I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and rejoined Audie on the loveseat. My scheming sisters made sure the seating turned out that way. I was pleased that Jenna hadn’t claimed the spot.
    From her place at the corner of the couch, Dina leaned forward, deep in discussion with Audie. She wanted to know every detail of his time with the Chicago Shakespeare Theater troupe.
    “Why Shakespeare?” I asked. “Wasn’t there a company devoted to Oscar Wilde?”
    Audie laughed. “Unfortunately, no. Maybe I should have started one. But by the time the CST offered me a position, I’d had enough of waiting tables and doing the odd play every now and then. I appreciated the steady work.”
    “Tell us about the films Mrs. Mallory mentioned,” Dina said.
    “I was a bit actor in a couple of tragedies. Blink, and you’d miss me.”
    “Oh? Which ones?” I asked. I would never admit that the only Shakespeare films I had seen were A Midsummer Night’s Dream with a young Mickey Rooney and the 1960s version of Romeo and Juliet that every high school freshman watched.
    “ King Lear . Merchant of Venice . That’s the extent of my film career.”
    A lot of aspiring actors would love to have even that much.
    “So what made you decide to leave fame and fortune for rural Oklahoma?” Dad asked the question that had occupied my mind ever since Audie’s arrival in our town. I had heard his practiced answer—“I felt that it was time for a change”—but it still puzzled me, and I wanted to know more.
    “I realized that I was never going to win an Oscar or an Emmy or a Tony, and I didn’t like the person I was becoming in pursuit of fame. I was afraid that I was making theater my god.” Audie stood up and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. “I thought about giving up the theater altogether. But I couldn’t seem to let it go. Like Wilde, ‘I love acting. It is so much more real than life.’ ” His face twisted in a smile.
    “I’m so glad you stuck with it!” Dina tucked her leg under her. “You’re so good at what you do. It’s a God-given gift.”
    Be quiet. I wanted Audie to continue sharing his heart.
    He obliged. “I still hadn’t decided when I went on a missions trip with my church’s youth group. I helped them do mimes and puppet shows and stuff like that. Everywhere we went, people gathered. God reminded me that there is a whole world of theater outside of the cities. Like any art form, theater isn’t bad by itself. The question was how God wanted me to use the gifts He had given me.”
    Audie’s insight touched me. “Like fashion.” I waved at my outfit for the day. “Fashions come and go. There is nothing wrong in wanting to look your best. But when you spend too much money on it, or worry too much about it. . .” I stopped, embarrassment overtaking my enthusiasm.
    “Exactly.” The smile Audie turned in my direction made my worries float away. “I asked God what He wanted me to do with theater—if anything. Large parts of the country are hungry for live theater. I felt God was calling me to do something about it.” He paused and moderated his excited tones. “So I put my name out there. When Magda contacted me about becoming director at the MGM, I jumped at the opportunity.”
    Magda Grace Mallory is Grace Gulch’s biggest supporter of the arts. I’d heard rumors of a proposed fine arts complex. For now she supported a music center where kids from nine to ninety-two could study. Today’s pit orchestra resulted from that effort. The benefits trickled down to high school; our marching band won more competitions than