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Authors: Deborah Vogts

BOOK: Seeds of Summer
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TWENTY-FIVE

J
ARED LOOKED UP AS CHELSEY ENTERED THE ROOM, FOLLOWED BY NATALIE.
It didn't take a crystal ball to realize the two females had exchanged words, the air as thick as his mom's custard pudding. He savored another bite of his juicy steak, determined not to let the dour mood spoil his appetite. It'd been years since he'd eaten farm-raised beef—probably since before he went to seminary. Too long, and he wasn't about to waste a minute of his enjoyment.

“I understand you made dessert for us, Chelsey.” His gaze traveled from the frosted cake on the counter to the young girl fuming at the end of the table. She sat with them, but judging by her grim expression, she didn't want to be there.

“Who else would bake it?” Her lids narrowed. “Not the beauty queen. That chore is too far beneath her.”

Jared sipped his iced tea and studied Natalie's reaction. The sweet scent of chocolate clashed with the acrid vibes bouncing off the people in the room. “Not everyone is blessed with culinary skills, but it obviously agrees with you.”

“You didn't get it from me, that's for sure,” Libby said. “What do you kids have planned for your summer vacation?”

Chelsey's frown deepened. “Thanks to Pastor J, I'll be helping with Vacation Bible School every night next week.”

“It won't be that bad.” Jared grinned at the teen as Natalie began serving thick slices of cake to everyone.

He reached for a plate and passed it to Dillon. “I talked to Mrs. Trevor today. She said you'd be able to help with the first and second graders.”

Chelsey folded her arms across her chest, her expression unchanged. “Oh goody. I can hardly wait.”

Libby bit into her piece of cake as soon as she received it. Dark chocolate smudged her mouth. “Let me get this straight. All of you attend New Redeemer Church?”

Natalie sniffed and shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Then I don't understand.” Her lips smacked with chocolate, and her mouth curved upward. “You're so involved with Natalie and the kids. What's the connection?”

Dillon hopped up from the table and returned with a glass of milk. “Chelsey got in trouble last week, so now she has to do time at Pastor's Jared's church.”

Chelsey glared at the boy and he stuck out his tongue.

“What Natalie said is true, then. This family is your mission project.” Libby took another bite of cake and licked the frosting from her lips.

Jared straightened in his chair. “I wouldn't say that.” He shot a look at Natalie and recognized her unease—wondered if that's how she really felt.

Natalie cleared her throat. “Why don't we take our dessert to the living room where it's cooler?” She rose from the table, and Jared followed her lead.

“Wanna play checkers?” Dillon asked as they entered the next room.

“Sure, set them up.” Jared figured a little laughter might ease some of the anxiety that had collected the last few minutes.

Libby settled on the couch with her plate in hand. “You've befriended Dillon, you're counseling Chelsey, I can only imagine what your plans are for Natalie, her being single and the new owner of this ranch.” Though she'd directed the comment toward Jared, her eyes remained fastened on Natalie.

“I'm only part owner,” Natalie sat in a nearby rocking chair. “Dad split the property between all three of us.”

“All the more reason for you to have an advisor in the matter.” Libby took another bite of her cake. “Perhaps that's the role Pastor Jared wants to play—like in
The Thorn Birds
with Meggie Cleary and Father Ralph. I loved that movie. Kind of gives you a whole different perspective on things, doesn't it?”

“Ah, but this isn't Australia, and I'm not a Catholic priest.” Jared eased into a chair and drew a line in the condensation on his glass.

Natalie pitched back and forth in the wooden rocker across from him, her gaze intent. “Just because we both happen to be single doesn't make us candidates for a steamy romance. Besides, that movie was ridiculous. A priest falling in love with a child.”

Jared couldn't agree more and chuckled. All this talk about romance reminded him of Dillon's matchmaking efforts in the car and caused him to wonder what kind of woman he wanted for a bride. Certainly a virtuous one who commanded respect, who was gentle and wise. But wouldn't he also need to be physically attracted to her? He noted Natalie's tan, slender legs and the shapely arch of her bare feet. When he realized he was staring, he quickly looked away and turned his attention to the chocolate cake on his plate. He took a bite. Rich and moist, with just a hint of bitterness on the tongue. “Chelsey, this cake is delicious.”

Chelsey sat cross-legged on the floor. “It's my own recipe. I tweaked the ingredients until it came out just right.”

“Well, it's very good. You should share it with Clara at the café. Maybe she could sell it to her customers.”

The young teen blushed, but her mood seemed to lighten at the compliment.

“Chelsey's been cooking for us since she was a little girl,” Natalie said. “Of course, everyone was thrilled when she took over my job. I'm not much good at the stove—unless you like your food burnt.”

Jared studied the sisters, wondering what it must have been like growing up without a mother. His gaze slid to Libby. He would have thought this conversation would make her uncomfortable, but it didn't seem to faze her at all.

“Goodness knows I like to eat,” Libby said. “But if I had a choice, I'd rather be out working or riding a horse to being in the kitchen.”

Dillon finished setting up the game of checkers and nudged Jared to make the first move.

“Speaking of work, when do you want to begin haying?” Jared moved one of his pieces and waited for Natalie's response.

His question garnered several stares. “Are you hiring Pastor Jared to work for you, Nat?” Libby asked.

Chelsey fell back on the couch. “Tell me it's not so.”

Natalie's gaze darted around the room and landed on Jared. “I can't do everything myself.”

“We'll help you,” Dillon assured her, more interested in his next move than in the conversation.

“And I expect your help. Now that Tom's gone, you're all going to have to pull your weight, including you, Libby, depending on how long you stay.”

After that, the mention of work didn't come up again. Instead the conversation centered on crowning kings, fishing trips, and future rodeos. When Jared caught Dillon yawning, he realized he'd overstayed his welcome. “I should be getting home.” He stood, his legs stiff from sitting so long.

“Let me help you with the rest of Dad's clothes.” Natalie rose from the rocker and led him to where she'd stacked the remaining boxes on the porch. She slipped the satin ribbon from her hair, and
her long mane tumbled down her back in one liquid motion. “I'm sorry for being angry before.”

Mesmerized by the gleaming hair, Jared found himself speechless, wondering what it might be like to catch the fine strands between his fingers. “Believe me, I understand,” he said when he'd gained control of his thoughts. “I'm sorry for causing you to worry.”

They each lifted a box and carried them to his car, followed by two more loads. “What did you think of Libby? Do you think she's changed?” Natalie asked on their final trip.

Jared leaned the box against his car, reminded that he'd been put in this woman's presence for a purpose—not to ogle her beauty but to offer her Godly instruction. “I don't know. They say leopards cannot change their spots, but in terms of people, we can always hope. She certainly seems interested in getting to know the kids.”

Natalie stared at him perplexed and wary. He fought the urge to reach out to her and instead dropped the heavy box into the trunk of his car. “You're not a little girl, anymore, Natalie. You're smart and kind enough to give Libby another chance. And that's all it takes. Let God do the rest.”

She dipped her head with the faintest smile, and he took her box and set it beside the other. As he did so, he caught sight of a red satin ribbon on the floorboard and recognized it as the one Natalie had worn in her hair. He casually picked it up and tucked it in his pocket.

“Maybe you could come by next weekend to discuss our plans for haying?” Her gaze traveled to his eyes, their blue depths glimmering in the yard light with expectation, hope. “Maybe you and Dillon could even go fishing?”

Jared had seen many expressions on Natalie's face, angry stares and smiles that made his knees quiver, but the gentle appreciation that shone in her eyes now made his heart hammer within his chest. Could he trust himself to be around this woman and not fall in love with her? The thought scared him half to death.

“Sure, I'll call you later this week…if that's all right,” he said, and at her nod, he got in his car and drove away.

TWENTY-SIX

T
HE NEXT MORNING, NATALIE BRACED JACKSON'S FOOT ON HER KNEE AND
picked a piece of chert from his hoof, preparing him for their daily trek through the pasture. A strong south breeze blew in through the barn and brought with it a singing whistle. Natalie glanced up from her work to see Dillon heading off to the pasture with his fishing rod.

“Hey,” she hollered. “Have you done your chores already?”

Dillon stopped midstride and shuffled toward her, his boots scraping against the gravel drive. “I fed the goats and horses. I thought I'd catch us some fish for supper.”

“Did you forget you were supposed to ask permission before you traipse off on your own?”

“I told Libby. Besides, I'm only going to the pond. Dad never cared if I went fishing—as long as my chores were done.”

“Things are different now.” She set Jackson's foot on the ground and smoothed a hand over the gelding's leg. “I hoped you would ride with me this morning to check the cattle—keep me company.”

“Why can't Chelsey help? Or Libby? You never let me do anything fun.”

“I took you to the rodeo.” Natalie frowned and considered Jared's
fondness for her brother. “Help me today, and tonight you can call Jared and ask if he'll take you to the river this weekend.”

Dillon's brown eyes squinted with hesitance. “You'd let me go? After the trouble we got into last night?”

“What happened last night wasn't your fault—or Jared's either, for that matter.” Natalie led Jackson to the tack room to retrieve her saddle and was reminded of the cash she'd found there. “Have you been keeping your eye out for hidden money?”

Her brother nodded. “Yeah, I've looked all over the barn, but so far the only thing I've found is a nest of baby mice.” He grinned and propped his fishing rod against the wall.

Natalie made a face, thinking it might be time to buy some rat poison from the farm store. Either that or get more cats.

“Is Libby going with us this morning?”

Natalie hadn't seen anything of her stepmom since breakfast. She knew the woman wanted to spend time with each of the kids and thought perhaps she was with Chelsey. “I kinda doubt it. What do you think of her so far?”

Dillon handed her Jackson's saddle straps and scrunched his nose. “She's alright. She talks a lot.”

Never shuts up is more like it, but Natalie kept that to herself. “What do you talk about?”

“Stuff—mostly rodeo. Libby thinks we need another horse, either a barrel racer or one for roping.”

Natalie tugged the cinch tight on Jackson's stomach, wondering how Libby planned to pay for such a horse. She didn't waste any time, either, already filling the kids' heads with ideas. “And what do you think?”

Dillon grinned. “I think if we find another stash of money, we should buy one.”

Natalie chuckled and then a measure of foreboding formed in her gut. “You didn't tell Libby about the money, did you?”

Her brother shook his head. “Want me to?”

“No, not yet.” Natalie's anxiety eased a bit. She then caught sight of Libby hustling toward them, dressed in lemon colored pants and top. The woman had impeccable timing, her radar tuned to perfection. Natalie forced a smile. “Are your ears burning?”

Libby smiled back, cheerful and bright. “Should they be?”

Natalie led the horse forward to meet her at the edge of the barn. “Dillon and I were just discussing our plans for the day.”

“Well, I'm glad I caught you,” Libby said, out of breath. “I was just getting ready to go into town and wondered if Chelsey could go with me. You don't have anything for her to do this morning, do you?”

Natalie corralled her annoyance. “Dillon and I were about to ride out and check cattle. We do have a ranch to run, and with Dad gone, it's even more important for the kids to lend a hand.”

“Oh sure, and I'll do my part, as well.” Libby grinned. “But you don't have anything going on this morning, right?”

Natalie clamped her mouth in an effort to hold her tongue.

“I'd like to buy Chelsey some new cowboy boots. Hers are looking worn and shabby. I'm sure you can appreciate that. I've seen the boots in your closet.”

A ripple of irritation slinked up Natalie's back. Why had Libby been going through her closet? She glanced down at her own scuffed boots, a heavy film of dust coating them. How long had it been since she'd been shopping? To look at clothes or boots or anything besides grain and groceries? She shook off the thought and checked Jackson's cinch again. “I'd appreciate it if you'd ask me before giving the kids permission to do things. Like Dillon and his fishing.”

The woman made a clucking noise with her tongue. “You gotta let the kids be kids, Nat. It's their summer break. They need to have some freedom.”

The hair on Natalie's neck bristled. What about her freedom? Sure, she was no longer a child, but it wasn't as though she'd asked for this job. She'd traded her freedom for instant parenthood and land. And for what? More responsibility? She watched as Dillon dug
behind a set of wooden panels, probably searching for those baby mice. Her heart warmed at the sight, longing to experience a bit of childhood herself. “I guess you can take Chelsey with you. But tomorrow is a work day—for all of us.”

“You should take a little time for yourself, Nat. You're working too hard on this ranch and trying to raise these kids. It's not right, a young woman being tied down. It's good I'm here to take some of the burden off your shoulders.”

Natalie's brows arched. How long did Libby plan to stay? All summer? “You never did say if you had a job to get back to?”

The woman patted Jackson's neck. “This here's a mighty fine animal you have, Nat. I bet he's good with barrels, isn't he?”

“He's good at barrels.” But not as good as Libby was at evading questions. “He's good at chasing cows too, which is what I need to do now.”

“Want us to bring you back some hamburgers or a pizza?”

“I'm sure Dillon will be hungry. Seems like he's always eating something.”

“He's a growing boy.” The woman gazed at her son with appreciation and pride, causing Natalie to wonder at her ability to abandon him all those years ago.

The back screen squeaked open and drew their attention. Chelsey came out on the porch with the phone. “Natalie, you have a call.”

Natalie debated ignoring it as most of the calls she'd received lately had to do with her father's death—from life insurance companies, creditors, or other folks wanting their share of his money. Being the executor of his will had turned into an incredible nuisance. “Take a message, and I'll call them back.”

Her sister planted a hand on her hip and sent Natalie a look of indifference she could discern all the way from the barn. “I think you'll want to answer this. It's someone from your royal court.”

Natalie's attitude perked at Chelsey's flippant terminology,
guessing it was news about the upcoming queen clinic she'd volunteered to help with. “Tell them I'll be there in a minute.”

She handed Libby her horse's lead rope. “Would you mind tying Jackson for me?” she asked, unable to withhold the excitement from her voice. Without waiting for an answer, Natalie hurried to the house to take the call. Right away, she recognized the voice of the clinic coordinator.

“I hate to bother you, especially when you have so much else to think about, but I'm in a bit of a panic,” the woman stated.

“It's no bother. What's going on?” Natalie had been working with Connie on the clinic plans for months and looked forward to the diversion from ranch work, even if only for one weekend. “We're not canceling, are we?”

Her friend laughed into her ear. “It's not that bad. The preacher we had scheduled for our cowboy church has a family illness. You don't happen to know of anyone in the area who might fill in, do you?”

Natalie instantly thought of Jared. “Actually, I might. When do you need an answer?”

“As soon as possible. If we aren't able to get a preacher, we'll have to rearrange our schedule.”

“Well don't worry, I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something. I'll get back with you as soon as I can.” Natalie ended the conversation, optimistic Jared would be able to help or at least suggest someone who could. As she returned to the barn to load the horses in the stock trailer, there was a lightness in her step. Maybe Libby was right. Maybe her life didn't have to be all about ranching and the kids. Maybe this clinic was exactly what she needed to give her soul a boost—or at the very least keep her from going insane.

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