Seeds of Summer (7 page)

N
ATALIE SEARCHED THE DIMLY LIT BARN FOR
T
OM, WONDERING WHERE
he'd slipped off to and why he hadn't returned. She took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh night air, thankful for its calming effect. Peace and quiet. No words, no uncertainty, just wood, dirt, and the sweet smell of hay and horses.

The frogs croaked from a nearby pond, reminding her of the many times her dad had taken them frog hunting. Had she really neglected her family like her sister said?

The repulsive thought had flitted through her mind more than once since her father's death, but she'd been afraid to linger on it too long for fear of the truth.

Yes, she'd stayed away, but not because she didn't love them. Not because she didn't care, but because she yearned to start a new life for herself. Natalie had needed to move on with her dreams, especially now that her rodeo queen days were over. Prove that she could make it on her own—without the ties to her family, without being responsible for anyone but herself.

She shrugged the traitorous feelings away. What was so wrong with not wanting to be responsible for a change?

Her horse nickered from the open stall where he'd been feeding.
He probably fancied more grain. Natalie grinned, familiar with how his mind operated. She strode over to Jackson and removed his saddle and blanket, welcoming the familiar scent that floated to her nose. She pressed her forehead to his warm skin, willing the sensation to override the war inside.

Closing her eyes, Natalie allowed her mind to drift to the night six months ago in Vegas when her dad had clapped her on the back and told her to stop dreaming. “It's time to get back to the real world.” His words echoed in her mind.

Well, Dad, my life certainly doesn't have room for dreams now, does it?

Though his lecture had been cold, his eyes shone with warmth, and perhaps even a flicker of sorrow. In that remembrance, Natalie realized something that hadn't occurred to her before, and her eyes filled with tears.

That night—that awful night—when she'd been too distraught to appreciate it, had been the last time she'd hugged her father—the last time she'd ever be able to hug him again.

The tightness in Natalie's chest swelled until it felt like it might explode from keeping the anguish inside. She raked her fingers through Jackson's coarse dark mane, yearning relief. Though it was night, she debated climbing onto her faithful gelding and riding bareback through the pastures. She'd give him the rein, with only a crescent moon and stars to guide them over the rocks and hills. He could carry her away with his strong legs and sure feet. With the wind on her face and in her hair, maybe the hurt would stop hurting.

Her plan evaporated as Tom's noisy diesel roared up to the barn. Natalie swiped the moisture from her face and tucked her grief to a safer place for when she had more time and energy. Right now, she needed to be strong, present herself like the rancher her father would want her to be. She straightened to her full height, prepared to give her hired hand a piece of her mind.

“Hey Nat,” Tom called from the other side of the barn.

She cringed at the nickname, reserved only for her closest
friends. “Where have you been, Tom? I've been trying to call you for hours.”

“Really? Well, you know how it is out here. I must have been in a dead zone.” He lifted the straw hat from his head and tossed it in the cab of his truck, his yellow curls matted. “I went into town to get some supper. I told you that before I left.”

Natalie picked up a currycomb and commenced to brush her horse's back. “I don't remember any such thing, just like I didn't recall your similar excuse when you were supposed to help us unload the second shipment of summer cattle.”

He shut the truck door and shuffled forward. “I explained about that too. You can't blame me for an emergency.”

Natalie shifted so that Jackson stood between her and the hired hand. “I can and I will. I've given this lots of thought, Tom, and I've made a decision. Your position on the Double-A is over, effective immediately. You're never around when I need you, so it makes no sense to waste hard-earned money on a hand who doesn't work. You can stop at the house to get your final pay. I'll have it ready before you leave.”

Tom's eyes narrowed into disbelieving slants. “You're making a big mistake, firing the only manpower you've got on this ranch.”

Natalie stifled a laugh and slid the comb over Jackson's rump. “Men are a dime a dozen in this county. If I need one, I know where to find one.” She hardened her gaze, hoping Tom would see she meant every word. When he stepped backward, she allowed herself freedom to breathe naturally. No way did she want to get in a tussle with this guy, though she was confident she could hold her own.

“Okay, I'll go. If you're sure that's what you want.” He jammed his hands in his front jean pockets. “But since you're not giving me any advance notice, you better make that last paycheck twice the usual amount. For my trouble.”

She clenched the currycomb and debated throwing it at him. Or better yet, she could hop on Jackson and chase the yellow-bellied
cowboy off their land with a switch. “I have a better idea. You leave without a fuss, or I'll make sure every rancher in Charris County knows what a loser you are, and you won't work in this part of Kansas for years. Then we'll see how far your excuses get you.”

The man scowled but didn't offer any more resistance. Once he'd disappeared into the darkness, Natalie put Jackson to pasture, then headed for the house, glad to see Willard and Jared's vehicles parked in front. Should Tom get a wild hair and decide to cause trouble, there would be strength in numbers—even if those numbers included a broken-down war veteran and a pale-faced preacher.

The two sat at the kitchen table, coffee mugs in hand. They perked up at her entrance, but Natalie kept walking.

“What's your hurry?' Willard called to her from behind.

“I fired Tom.”

And now she had to pay him.

Minutes later Tom knocked on their front door. Natalie tore the freshly signed check from her father's ranch account and hurried to the living room, hoping Willard and Jared would stay in the kitchen while she handled this awkward task. She'd never fired anyone before, and a part of her felt guilty for putting this man out of a job.

Before she turned the metal handle of the front door, Tom barged in. His syrupy expression appeared borderline volatile. “You sure you won't change your mind about firing me?”

Natalie held the check out for him. “Here's the last of your pay—and don't worry, I'm being generous.” She managed to keep her voice from wavering.

The hired hand cursed and banged the door against the wall, jarring the house with its vibration. “Why can't you be reasonable? All I did was take a few hours for myself, and you're calling it a crime. Don't you know a man has to have time off?”

She didn't want to argue and had no reason to do so. “Time off, yes, but occasionally, you do have to show up for work.”

“Your daddy would have known better than to fire me.” With every word, his voice escalated. He moved closer and raised his finger so that it almost touched her cheek. He stood so close she could smell onion on his breath. “You're making a big mistake. And you'll regret it, watch and see.”

J
ARED TUNED IN TO THE ESCALATING WORDS FROM THE NEXT ROOM
, though muffled from the walls. Getting fired was never good, but for a man like Tom, being fired by a woman would sting even worse. “Think we should help her?”

Willard growled. “I don't suppose Natalie would cry for help if she had a knife to her throat.” He scooted from the kitchen chair, and as he rounded the corner to the living room, his voice thundered from within. “Her only mistake was not firing you sooner.” Willard spat the words out hard and powerful while Jared watched from behind.

“Stay out of this, old timer.” Tom's arrogant gaze darted to Natalie. “Are these the men you're gonna hire to take my place?”

The ranch hand cackled, and Willard took a step forward. Jared clutched Williard's arm to hold him back.

A natural protective instinct kicked in, and Jared stepped forward to position himself between Natalie and the cowboy. His pulse thumped with adrenaline, but he forced himself to remain calm.

“Come on now, no one wants trouble,” he said, hoping to defuse the situation.

“What is this? A church service?”

Ignoring the taunt, Jared inched closer, now eye-level with the irate man. “Let's not make this worse than it is. I'm sure you had your reasons for not showing up for work, and Natalie has hers for letting you go. Getting riled won't change things.”

“Maybe not, but it'll make me feel better,” Tom rasped back, his chin cocked like a banty rooster.

“I'm sure that'll happen when you cash your check.” Jared attempted to guide the cowboy out the door, praying he wouldn't resist. If Tom turned violent, Jared would have no choice but to fight the man—and he'd lose.

“Back off.” Tom shoved Jared's hand away and made a fist. “I don't need no preacher telling me what to do. I've had to listen to this here woman, and that's bad enough.”

The cowboy was in Jared's face now, his nostrils flaring. Jared swallowed his fear. Though the two were the same height, Tom had more strength and inclination. Not good odds.

“I'm not a fighting man, Tom. But I'm not going to stand here and let you talk bad about Miss Adams. You'd better leave quietly before someone says or does something he'll regret. Then if you want to talk about it later, you can visit me in church on Sunday.”

Tom's lips curled in disgust. “You're kidding. You think I'm going to hang out at your church.” He flung his hands in the air and backed down the porch steps into the darkness. “I don't need this. No job's worth putting up with this crap.”

When he got halfway down the front path, he turned and pointed his finger at them, his gesture lit by a yard light. “Don't talk to any ranchers about me, either. 'Cause if I hear you've been telling lies, I'll take you to court faster than a hound after a rabbit.”

Prepared to chase the man off the property, Jared clenched his fist as though he carried Moses' staff in his hand. “Do what you have to do, but don't come back here again.”

N
ATALIE MANAGED A SMILE FOR
J
ARED WHEN HE RETURNED TO THE PORCH
. He'd surprised her. Not only had he taken an explosive situation and turned it on its heel, but he'd done so without the use of violence or force. For that, she had to give him credit. “You handled that like a pro. Are you okay?”

“Did you see him take off? Like the devil was after him.” Jared peered over his shoulder, and Natalie noted the bobbing headlights of Tom's truck as it roared down the dirt road.

“Good riddance.” Natalie scowled. “Only now I don't have a hired hand.”

Willard shook his head. “You're better off. Tom was a disgrace to anyone who calls himself a cowboy. I have no idea why your daddy hired him unless he felt sorry for the boy.”

That might be true, but it didn't solve Natalie's situation. The haying season would start in a month. Pastures and cattle to tend. Plus a queen clinic she'd promised to help with. “I planned to brand cattle Saturday. How am I going to vaccinate three hundred calves with only Dillon and Chelsey for help?”

“You can count me in,” Willard said. “I'm not a young buck, but I can wield a branding iron just fine. I'll check around and see if we can scrounge up a few more hands.”

Natalie smiled at the man, once again hating her dependence on others. “I'm much obliged for your help, Willard. And for yours too.” Her eyes darted to Jared's. “I appreciate how you handled Tom. It takes courage to stand up to men like that without getting into a fight.”

“Thanks, but the courage wasn't mine.”

Natalie heard the humility in Jared's voice but didn't understand what he meant.

He cleared his throat. “I should go so you can get to bed. I'm sure you've had a long day.”

“I need to get home too.” Willard held out his hand to Jared. “It was nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Yours too. Stop by my office sometime, and we'll discuss the deep meanings of prose and poetry.” Jared chuckled and turned to Natalie. “I'll plan on seeing Chelsey after school tomorrow?”

Natalie frowned at the reminder. One more item to put on her list, as though she didn't have enough to think about.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, N
ATALIE SET OUT A BOX OF CEREAL AND FRESH
strawberries for the kids to eat before the bus arrived. Chelsey shuffled into the kitchen wearing cowboy boots and a jean skirt so short it probably violated the school dress code. “Glad you're up. I was afraid I might have to haul you out of bed.”

Chelsey scowled. “Why wouldn't I be?” She picked up a strawberry and examined it before taking a bite.

“You haven't forgotten about your arrangement with Jared, have you?”

“Pastor
Jared, you mean?”

Natalie's eyes narrowed. “He wants to meet you at the church after school. No dawdling or cruising with friends, understand? You'll work two hours, and then I'll pick you up.”

“What? You mean I can't drive?”

“Your driving is suspended until I say otherwise.”

“What about Sarah?”

“I'm not in charge of Sarah. It'll be a wonder if her folks let her have anything to do with you after the stunt you pulled last night.”

“It was only a few beers.”

Natalie faced the kitchen sink and drew a deep breath. Did she have the willpower or knowledge to raise a teenager? Tattoos, alcohol, sex, obvious disdain. What might Chelsey try next, drugs? She wanted to strangle the stupid kid and knock some sense into her head. Instead, she forced herself to be calm.
Think good thoughts, Think like a parent.
She returned to the table and sat down, willing
herself to step into her father's boots. “You want to drink beer? Fine, you can buy as many six-packs as you want when you're twenty-one.”

Chelsey rolled her eyes and chewed her fingernail, polished an iridescent green.

Dillon trudged into the kitchen. “You two aren't fighting again, are you?” He laid his backpack on the table, then poured rice cereal into one of the bowls. “That's all you do anymore. How would that make Dad feel?”

As usual, Dillon's insight astounded Natalie. It also gave her a new perspective on the situation.

“Dillon's right. We're family. Now that Dad's gone, the three of us need to get along.” She reached for Chelsey's fingers and inspected her nubbed-off nails. Though tempted, she refrained from admonishing her sister about taking better care of her hands. The truce had to start somewhere and it may as well start with her.

Once the kids left for school, Natalie saddled Jackson to ride through the pastures and check the summer steers and fences. It would be quicker to use her father's four-wheeler or even the pickup, but this morning she longed for the squeak of leather beneath her and the weight of the reins on her fingertips.

Other than supplying salt blocks and water, her contracted grazing duties included keeping count of the cattle, maintaining the fences and windmills, and caring for sick animals. With over three thousand acres to cover, it was a full-time job, and that didn't include their personal herd of three hundred cow-calf pairs, which they would brand this weekend. She had no idea how she would do the work on her own. Thankfully, her brother and sister only had two more days of school, but she still might need to hire help. That meant spending more money from an already dwindling account—something she wanted to avoid if at all possible.

Hours later after riding fence on two of the pastures, she stopped on top of Flat Ridge, which overlooked the bordering north and east sections of their property. From here, she could see for miles. It was
one of her favorite places, especially this time of year when purple beardtongue, larkspur, and wild indigo dotted the prairie in profusion. Below her, the draws and gullies extended into Sage Creek, now full from the wet season they'd had.

She sat atop Jackson and counted the cattle. Clicking him forward, she moved to get a better view of the steers as they grazed below. When finished recording the numbers, she returned her notepad to her shirt pocket and watched a hawk circle the blue sky above.

Its loud screech filled her with a loneliness that settled in her soul. Although she loved ranching and the Flint Hills, it was a solitary life, and so unlike the one she'd imagined for herself.

She closed her eyes and saw Ryan Frazier's handsome face. He'd reminded her of a movie star, with his gorgeous blue eyes, dimpled smile, and straight blonde hair swept to one side. Young and ready for adventure, Natalie had allowed the professional commentator to smooth talk his way into her life and capture her heart. As the wind whistled in her ear, she remembered his words of hope and a future…

Bright lights shone down on Natalie at the Dodge City Rodeo as she waited at the arena gate, ready to make her final appearance before they announced the new Miss Rodeo Kansas.

“Don't be sad, Nat. This is the beginning of great things for us,” Ryan said, his hand reaching up to the saddle for hers. “You finish off your year as Miss Rodeo Kansas and then if all goes well, you'll hold the national title. After that, we'll go places, you and I—Montana, Australia, Hawaii.”

“The first place I'll go is back to school,” she said, trying to quell the hope stirring in her heart. She couldn't imagine anything better than spending the rest of her life with the man who'd followed her to practically every rodeo on her tour this past year—who'd whispered words of love she would never forget.

“Sure, but you'll have breaks, and we'll have the summer rodeo circuit.”

He
kissed her hand, and the soft touch of his lips sent a tremor of tingles up her arm.

“Right now I need to concentrate on this last run in the arena and give my attention to this new horse I'm on. I don't want a repeat of that bucking bronc
I
rode a few weeks ago.”

“I won't let him hurt you, Nat, I promise.” Ryan's eyes twinkled up at her, and the weight of that promise floated in the air as light as a feather.

Then a few months later, the man's promise dropped dead at her feet and crushed her heart into a thousand pieces. Yet another painful memory of Las Vegas…

Natalie opened her eyes to the bright green pasture below, still grieved by the broken promises. Pressing her spurs into Jackson's side, she nudged him down the steep ridge. What would Ryan think of her life now?