Seeds of Summer (19 page)

T
HE NEXT AFTERNOON,
N
ATALIE TUCKED A COIL OF WIRE INTO THE
saddlebag on her father's horse as Jared strolled into the barn sporting a pair of Wrangler jeans and the cowboy hat he'd worn the day before. His effort to fit in with ranch life amused her. “I see you finally broke down and bought yourself a hat.”

Jared tipped the straw brim in gentlemanly fashion. “I decided it was time to make a trip to the farm store.”

“It suits you.” She liked this new cowboy look. His dark brown eyes gleamed beneath the yellow brim, causing her brooding fear to almost melt away.

“There are three windmills in the North Pasture,” she said. “I thought we might ride out and check cattle while we're there. That is, if you don't mind going on horseback.” She hoped the ride would calm her nerves—depended on it, even.

He rubbed the back of his neck, giving no sign of protest. “Which horse are you giving me?”

A grin settled in the corner of her mouth as she recalled the many bronc rides her father had taken on his snorty horse. “Dad's sorrel hasn't seen much action for a while. He'll likely be feeling
fresh, so you'd better take Jackson.” Natalie tied a lariat to her saddle horn, confident the well-broke animal would look after Jared.

She handed him Jackson's reins, her spurs jingling. “You might want to wait here for a bit,” she said, then climbed into her saddle, prepared for anything.

As expected, her dad's gelding made it halfway through the yard before he planted his feet and sprung high, a low grunt issuing from his belly. Natalie pulled up on both reins to stay in the saddle as he continued bucking, his hooves flinging chunks of sod into the air. On the second jump, she wrenched his head around in a tight circle. Round and round they went.

“Come on, old boy, this fun of yours is too much work,” Natalie muttered, the muscles in her stomach, arms, and legs growing tired of the strain. Then after what seemed like minutes, the horse finally gave up his fuss. Satisfied, Natalie sat quiet for a moment and patted his neck.

“I had no idea you were such a horseman.” Jared rode out to her in the yard.

“I'm not.” She chuckled. “I've just had my share of wild rodeos.”

“If they were as wild as the one I just witnessed, I'm impressed. You have grit, Natalie Adams—true grit.”

She laughed at Jared's deliberate drawl. “You've been watching too many westerns.”

He smiled back. “Maybe, but I'm still impressed.”

A few minutes later, the sun beat down on Natalie's thin cotton shirt as she and Jared passed through the gate headed for the pasture. It was a pretty day, the sky blue, the grass a brilliant green. Together, they trotted over the hills of bluestem and crossed multiple gullies, all the while Natalie keeping watch over Jared's progress. For an inexperienced rider, he carried himself well in the saddle, accepting the rough terrain and each low-water passage with ease.

They maneuvered through a small grove of burr oaks edged by a large cluster of flint rock, and farther on, the trail meandered over
a tall mound. Before reaching the other side, the distant sound of clanging metal echoed from the next ridge. As they neared, the awful racket grew in intensity until Natalie spotted the cause.

High overhead, one of the windmill blades had dislodged from its support, and with each rotation the loose fixture struck the tower.

Natalie slid from the saddle then collected her supplies. Gathering her leather gloves…and her courage, she recalled the many times she'd helped her dad with such things, always dreading the climb. “Have you ever been to the top of one of these towers before?”

Jared shook his head. “My granddad had a silo. Does that count?”

Natalie grinned and strapped the rope around her shoulder. She unfastened Jared's cantle bag, which contained some gear oil and a few other items they might need, and handed it to him. Tucking a pair of pliers in her back pocket, she then struggled to pull the lever at the base of the tower, which would shift the direction of the wheel and set a manual brake. Unable to budge the metal device, she stepped back and removed her ball cap, wiping the perspiration from her forehead.

“Here, let's try this.” Jared picked up from the ground a discarded pipe and struck the lever, freeing it from the rusted corrosion and enabling its movement. Once the blades stopped spinning, the screeching noise ceased as well. All was silent except for the strong gusts of wind and the clear, hopeful
bob-white
call of a pair of quail nesting in the grass nearby.

Jared waited by the ladder. “Want to go first, or shall I?”

Natalie drew in a deep breath and resituated the cap on her head. “I'll start. That way if I fall, you can catch me,” she teased, but her hands betrayed her, cold with dread.

“After seeing how agile you were on that horse, I can't imagine you having a problem climbing a ladder, but if you insist, I'll gladly play the hero.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Determined to overcome her weakness, Natalie took the initiative and began climbing the metal tower. Her
long sleeved overshirt billowed and flapped in the air. Halfway up, Jared howled.

“There goes my sun block.”

Natalie glanced down and caught sight of the straw hat as it landed on the grass below. The bluestem seemed to quiver and mock her. “You can get it later.” She swallowed her anxiety, thankful to have Jared below her.

When they reached the top, Natalie braced herself on the oiling mount and immediately went to work to realign the dislodged blade. “Can you hand me a piece of wire?”

Jared waited below the platform and passed her a coil of baling wire. “You doing okay up there?”

“I'm fine.” Her reply came out more tersely than she intended, as she blindly searched for the pliers in her back pocket. Finding them, she snipped a length of wire long enough to begin securing the blade to its support, all the while holding fast to the tower with her other arm. “Here, will you cut a few more pieces for me?” She handed him the wire and pliers.

As she did so, she happened to look down at the grass below, the green blades rippling like the sea. Her vision blurred and the prairie swirled and undulated, throwing off her equilibrium and triggering a cold sweat. The sudden dizziness caused her legs to go weak, and she sunk onto the metal platform to a sitting position.

“Hey, Jared, you might have to finish this for me.” She gasped and clung even tighter to the bar.

J
ARED'S EYES DARTED TO
N
ATALIE'S FACE, PALLID AND DRAWN.
A
ND
looking as though she might faint. His legs reacting faster than his mind, he scrambled the rest of the way up the tower to hold her steady. He yanked off one of her gloves, her skin clammy and trembling. “Look at me, Natalie. Come on, this isn't funny.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her respiration heavy and deliberate. “Do I look like I'm having fun?” She licked her dry lips.

He patted her hand in an effort to claim her attention. “Nah, I think you might be doing this on purpose, to play a game on me,” he teased, but she wasn't reciprocating. “Why do I get the feeling this has happened before? Are you afraid of heights? Is that why you wanted my help?”

“Do you have to ask so many questions?” Her mouth barely moved.

Fear gripped his stomach as he assessed the real meaning to her avoidance. How was he going to get her down from this tower? “Hey Natalie, you can't pass out on me—not up here.”
Lord, please help me get Natalie safely to the ground.

He waited a few minutes, wishing he had some water to splash on her face. “Do you think you can follow me down the tower?”

She nodded, but her eyes remained closed. At that moment, Jared wanted to be strong and stout like Ryan so he could carry Natalie down. But he wasn't. He noted the rope slung over Natalie's shoulder.

Cautiously, he took the soft nylon rope from her arm and figured it to be at least forty feet. He fastened the loop to the tower and tugged on it. Satisfied it would hold her weight, he wrapped the other end around Natalie's waist, securing it with a bowline knot, something his granddad had taught him well.

Natalie's eyelids fluttered opened, and she relaxed her hold on the metal bar. Her pink color seemed to be returning as well. Good signs. “I need to finish my repairs,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Jared chuckled. “Don't worry about the windmill. I'll take care of that as soon as we get you on the ground.” He squeezed her hand, and then a Bible passage came to him, comforting words he hoped would calm her as they began their downward journey.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want,” he said. “I'm going to go first, Natalie, and I want you to follow me. You'll be safe,

I promise.” His words came out bold and sure, with more confidence than he could claim.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul—And it's really important that you don't look down. Do you think you can do that?”

She nodded, her eyes on him, trusting.

“He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.” Jared maneuvered into position on the ladder and helped Natalie do the same. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”

Together the two of them began their descent, one rung at a time. “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me—you're doing great, Natalie. Keep going,” Jared instructed, careful to use his body as a shield in case her feet should falter.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies,” Jared went on, allowing the words to soothe and give him peace. When they reached the halfway mark, he lifted up another prayer of thanks and continued protection. “You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”

As they approached the bottom, Jared had to be careful not to move too quickly in his haste to reach the ground. “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

His feet touched the hard soil, and he grabbed Natalie by the waist and took her into his arms, thankful she'd made it without harm. She surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck, not yet fully revived but much stronger than before.

“You saved me,” she whispered against his cheek. “I could have killed myself up there, but you took care of me.”

Jared closed his eyes, longing to take the credit for such things, and desiring the admiration she wanted to give. But he couldn't. “I didn't save you, Natalie. I was merely going through the motions. It was God who held you.”

I
N THE SHADE OF THE WATER TROUGH,
N
ATALIE RESTED AS
J
ARED CLIMBED
the tower and reattached the broken blade. He continued with the maintenance of checking for loose fasteners and oiling the gearbox, his movements sure and effortless. Humiliation swelled within that she'd not been able to finish the task on her own. Had God really saved her? Was he an active participant in her life as Jared repeatedly claimed? The viable evidence seemed to grow stronger every day.

When Jared returned, he shifted the brake lever on the tower to set the device back to the wind. The blades began spinning and soon beads of water trickled from the pipe into the large round trough, the musical notes beckoning her from her seat on the ground. She rose on wobbly legs, her throat parched and thirsty. Cupping her hands, she eagerly drank the clear, cold liquid.

“Tastes good, huh?” Jared joined her and dipped his hands in the trough to splash water on his face. Water dripped from his chin, and his brown eyes shimmered with pleasure.

“I don't remember anything tasting so good.” From this perspective, the young pastor looked mighty appetizing too. She caught sight of Jared's cowboy hat where it had landed on the grass and went to retrieve it. Her steps now steady and sure, Natalie placed the
straw hat on Jared's head and clasped her hands behind his neck. Feeling bold and wanting to express her gratitude before she lost her nerve, she reached up and pressed her lips to his.

She closed her eyes and savored the tender kiss, how his lips yielded to her own, gentle yet certain. The slight scratch of his damp chin grazed against hers, and she opened her eyes. Waited for a reaction.

Jared stepped away, his mouth tilting into a timid grin. “What was that for?”

Natalie smiled back and shrugged. “I wanted to thank you. You're always coming to my rescue—with the kids, Tom, and Libby. I can't even count how many times you've helped me this past month.” She swallowed the emotion quivering in her throat.

He looked down at his boots and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Natalie.” His face contorted and her hope skidded to a halt.

She could have sworn Jared was interested. Or had her dizziness warped her senses? “I'm sorry, I thought you enjoyed it.”
At least that's how it felt.
For the past few weeks, the two of them seemed to be on the verge of something more than friendship. She'd sensed it in her backyard and was aware of it now. “Is it me? That you're not attracted or interested in me?”

He kicked at the grass with the toe of his boot. “If I told you that, it'd be a lie.”

“Well, what then?” She crossed her arms over her chest, horribly exposed yet needing to know.

“I have feelings for you, Natalie, but it's not that simple.”

Her eyes searched his for the truth. “Because you're a pastor?”

“That and so much more.” He took her hands and massaged her fingers. “The woman I give my heart to is the woman I intend to marry. And that woman will have to share my faith in God. If she doesn't, she'll never know who I truly am—or more important, who she is.”

She lowered her gaze at his hard words, and yet this unwavering commitment was what drew her most to Jared. “But you feel it, don't you?”

Jared lifted her chin with his finger. “Practically since the first day I saw you on the river. How could I not be attracted—you're beautiful, sensitive, and so caring. I've never known a woman more determined than you.”

A cautious grin belied the fluttering of her heart. “What do we do? Ignore it? Hope it goes away?”

He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to where the horses were tethered. “As much as you might not want to hear it, the answer is simple,” he said. “We pray.”

T
HE WEEK PASSED AND WHEN
S
UNDAY MORNING ARRIVED,
N
ATALIE WOKE
to her previous night's resolve to attend church, desiring to learn more about Jared's faith. She'd informed Libby and the kids of her decision, and despite their arguments and groaning, they all agreed to go with her.

Wanting to fit in with Jared's congregation, Natalie took her time dressing. She fastened a belt around her denim skirt then checked her image in the mirror. Her dark hair hung limp at her neck, and she fluffed it to life, wishing she had Chelsey's natural waves. She slipped on a pair of leather sandals and dug from her jewelry box her favorite silver earrings. Her fingers shook as she put them on, and she chided herself. It was only a church service—a small step toward knowing Jared better. It wasn't as though she was entering a competition. Tired of feeding her anxiety, she strode out the door and knocked on the kids' rooms on her way to the stairs. “Hurry along. I don't want to be late this morning.”

Dillon stepped out with his dress shirt partially tucked in. He shoved the shirttail into his pants, the same outfit he'd worn to their father's funeral.

“You look spiffy. You might want to run a comb through that hair of yours, though.” She smiled at the cowlick that refused to stay down.

Her brother pulled a comb from his back pocket and followed her to the kitchen where she poured them each a glass of orange juice.

Libby and Chelsey jostled down the stairs minutes later, laughing like high school friends. Natalie frowned at her sister's choice of clothing, a tight pair of jeans and a tank top. Libby's casual outfit surprised her too, as she figured the woman would want to impress everyone with her fashion sense. “Is that what you're wearing?”

Their smiles faded. “We've decided not to go to church this morning.”

Natalie tried to hide her surprise. “Why not?”

Chelsey exchanged looks with Libby as though they shared an intimate secret.

“I decided to take Chelsey to Junction City this morning,” Libby said. “We're going to look at a barrel pony. This morning was the only time we could meet with the owners.”

“Really?” Natalie's mouth quirked in suspicion, wondering why her stepmom hadn't mentioned this last night.

Dillon jumped up from the table, sloshing his orange juice. “Can I go too?”

Natalie shot him a look that pinned him to the chair. “No, you can't. You're going with me.”

His mouth pulled into a frown. “How come Chelsey gets to do the fun stuff, and I always get stuck working? And now I have to go to church.”

“I thought you wanted to go? To see Pastor Jared?”

He shrugged. “Buying a horse is more fun.”

Natalie's eyes narrowed. “You're not planning on buying the horse today, are you? We talked about this. We don't have that kind of money to spare.”

Libby waved off Natalie's concern. “Don't fret, Nat. We're just
going to look. But if we like what we see, we'll have to figure out a way to buy him—won't we, Chels?” The woman elbowed the young teen, charged with excitement.

Dillon returned to his chair. “We've got the money we found in the barn.”

Natalie raked her brother with a cold stare. “We need to save every dime we have right now. Besides, we have plenty of horses…and plenty of work to do.” Her gaze drifted to Libby and her sister. She couldn't make Chelsey want to go to church, but that didn't mean she was ready to relinquish her control. “I guess you can go, but I expect you to return this afternoon. No fooling around in town. Is that understood?”

The two giggled. “We'll be back in time to help with the chores, don't you worry.” Libby assured her.

Natalie had heard those words before—and the woman had failed to live up to them on each occasion. She checked the clock above the refrigerator and realized it was time to leave. “I guess we'll see you later then.”

Dillon shuffled to the door, his earlier excitement gone. Natalie's had diminished as well, and she briefly debated staying home. Something called to her though, and a wave of guilt rushed over her. Whether due to the incident on the windmill or from Jared's talk about God, she chose to heed her intuition. Twenty minutes later, she and Dillon entered the small sanctuary of New Redeemer with its tall ceiling and stained glass windows. Not wanting to draw attention to their last minute arrival, they took a seat in one of the back pews.

Jared saw them, and his eyes lit with pleasure. Natalie realized then that his clergy robe didn't cause her a moment's hesitation but instead gave her a measure of comfort, like a well-worn boot.

She relaxed against the pew as the prelude music from the pipe organ consumed the room, its rich haunting melody sending chills up her arm. Captivated by the beautiful composition, Natalie's chest
swelled as the notes reached their pinnacle, the resonate tones causing her to soar and meet them, as though it were just her and God in this small sanctuary.

The song brought back a forgotten memory, one that Natalie had packed away and stowed after her mama's death along with so many other cherished items. She'd sat beside her mama on a wooden pew much like this one. She'd held her mama's hand and listened to her sweet soprano voice sing about Jesus' love. And Natalie had claimed that love for herself—she'd embraced it in her heart and had felt his arms about her—so long ago, so many years ago.

How had she forgotten?

Drawn to a stained glass picture of Jesus holding a lamb, a sense of peace washed over Natalie and reminded her of that love. Tears sprang to her eyes, and as the opening hymn played, she heard her mama's voice, and the words came to Natalie as though she'd always held them on her tongue. “What a friend we have in Jesus.” For the next forty minutes, Natalie clung to that precious childhood memory.

“You came.” Jared clasped Natalie's fingers as she and Dillon were ushered out of the sanctuary.

She nodded, conscious of his hand on hers. “And I'm glad I did. It was a memorable service.”

“Will you stay for lunch?” Jared moved on to welcome her brother. “It's the last Sunday of the month—Potluck Sunday.”

She glanced at Dillon and shrugged. “I didn't bring anything to share.”

“Believe me, there will be plenty of food.” He winked at Dillon, undeterred.

Natalie gazed at the people congregating in the fellowship area. Their friendly chatter drifted into the sanctuary, as did the savory aroma of beef and noodles—the combination smothering. Her fear of not fitting in crept back with a vengeance, but more than that, she had an overwhelming desire to go home and sort through the
memories that had erupted during the service. Her mind spun with uncertainty. “Maybe next time.”

Disappointment creased Jared's brow as he walked them to the door. “I overheard a few ranchers who planned to cut their hay this week. If you'd like, I could come out and start on yours tomorrow.”

Her eyes drifted from his collar and lingered on his lips, her confusion growing by the minute. Here she was, attracted to the man, yet not sure she could fit into his world, though she found herself wanting to—very much. “That sounds good,” she said, falling back on what she knew best. Work. “I'll have the tractor and mower fueled and ready.”