Seeds of Summer

by Deborah Vogts

  “She’s pretty, don’t you think?”

  The boy didn’t fight fair. “I’d say she’s about the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

  A wide grin spread on Dillon’s face, and he nodded in agreement. “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

  Jared cleared his throat, fearing where this chain of questions might lead. “No, I don’t. What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

  Dillon wrinkled his nose.

  “Good answer. You’re too young to like girls.”

  “But you like girls, don’t you?

  “I like them just fine.” Jared grinned. “As a pastor, I have to be particular about the women in my life. I can’t date like other men. You understand that, right?”

  Dillon stared out the window, silent. “I wish you could date Natalie.”

  Perspiration gathered on Jared’s back. “Why don’t we listen to the radio? How about the oldies?”

  Dillon shrugged. “Dad liked country music. His favorite singer was Merle Haggard.”

  Jared tuned in to a country station and turned the volume down. “You miss your dad a lot, don’t you?”

  The boy didn’t answer, quiet for a moment. “And now our mom’s coming back. Did Natalie tell you?”

  “Yeah, I heard. How does that make you feel?”

  His mouth tilted to the side. “I’ve been trying to imagine what it’ll be like having her around, but I can’t figure it out. Natalie’s the closest thing to a mom that we’ve ever had.”

  Jared patted Dillon’s narrow shoulder, thinking a lot of weight rested there. Maybe what the boy needed most was someone willing to listen. “It’ll be all right. If you ever want to talk, I’ll be around. Your sister asked me to help with the haying this summer.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and there’s always fishing. If you need to get away—you know, from the girls, you can come hang out with me.”

  A wide grin spread on Dillon’s face and his mood lightened. “If you’re a preacher, how come you know so much about farming?”

  Jared shook his head. “I don’t know much. What I know, my granddad taught me—like your dad taught you.”

  “Do you miss him?” The young boy sought Jared’s eyes, his own pain raw.

  “More so now. Seems there are a lot of reminders here in the country.”

  With the understanding of someone much older, Dillon pushed the radio dial to its previous station and cranked up the volume to a John Mellencamp song.

  The heavy bass vibrated in Jared’s ears, but he knew the lyrics and they were good. “I was born in a small town,” he sang out, believing music often served as the best medicine for a hurting soul. Soon Dillon joined in loud and strong.

  A GLIMMER OF CHROME SHOWN THROUGH THE KITCHEN WINDOW AS Natalie prepared to serve the dessert Chelsey had made. She checked the clock above the refrigerator. Over an hour and a half late. She stormed out the kitchen door and down the back steps to meet them.

  “Where have you been? Do you have any idea how late it is?” She caught her brother as he climbed from the car and finding nothing physically wrong, turned her wrath on Jared.

  “You said you’d bring him home early. Did you forget?”

  “No, of course not,” Jared said without his usual smile. “Something came up that I couldn’t walk away from. I tried to call, but your phone was busy.”

  Natalie groaned, wondering if Chelsey had been on the phone. “I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but out here, if you tell someone you’re going to do something, you do it. Besides, you could have called my cell.”

  Dillon tugged on her elbow. “It’s not what you think, Nat. Mr. Wilson died.”

  She shook her head at the alleged misunderstanding. “What?”

  “We were getting ready to leave when Jared got the call from the hospital. Don’t be mad. It wasn’t his fault.”

  Natalie turned to Jared, aware of Libby lingering on the porch. “Is that true?”

  The dark shadows under his eyes stood out now. “It’s no excuse for not contacting you. We couldn’t remember your cell number, but I should have kept trying the house. I’m sorry we worried you.”

  At his apology, remorse washed over her. Swallowing her anger, she went straight to the kitchen to collect the extra plates on the table. “We were just getting ready to eat the dessert Chelsey made, but I can warm your supper in the microwave. You must be starving.”

  Jared followed her to the counter. “Thanks for understanding.” He took the white stoneware from her hands, and their fingers brushed against each other.

  Conscious of his touch, Natalie set the dish in the microwave, recalling the words Libby had spoken in the bedroom. Her cheeks flushed with heat as she waited for the food to warm. Could Jared be interested in her? At the microwave’s ding, she stabbed the T-bones and set each on a plate, careful to avoid the man’s face. “Was Mr. Wilson a friend?”

  “A member of our congregation. A nice old man, and a man sure of his destination.” Jared’s voice came to her soft and fatigued, and wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

  “All this talk about death gives me the creeps,” Libby said from the table, having apparently overheard their conversation. “It lingers over us like the smell of dead fish.”

  At the woman’s voice, the warm embrace evaporated, leaving Natalie cold and unattended. “Really, do we have to discuss this while we eat?” She busied herself with wiping off the counter.

  Jared took the plates to the table and sat down with Dillon. After a quick prayer, he and her brother tore into their food as though they hadn’t eaten all day. “Death isn’t something to fear,” he said. “We’ll all die one day. What’s important is that we not waste the time we’re given. To live the life we’re called to live.” He winked at Natalie and smiled. “Some people are called to be pastors, and some are called to be pageant queens.”

  Natalie tossed the dishrag into the sink, wondering if he was making fun. She turned her attention to Chelsey’s cake displayed on a glass pedestal. Her sister had outdone herself, creating a real work of art with curls of grated chocolate scattered on top of the three-layer dessert. It looked almost too pretty to eat.

  “If that’s true then I must have been called to be in rodeo,” Libby said.

  The woman’s boastfulness grated on Natalie’s nerves and she tried to hold back her condemnation. Had God not called Libby to be a mother? Or had he called Natalie to be the mother instead? The entire situation irritated her to no end. She ran a sharp knife through the chocolate layers, then licked the fudge frosting from her finger. “Who needs more ice?”

  “I’ll have some, thank you.” Libby held out her glass and glanced around the room. “Where did Chelsey go, anyway?”

  “She’s probably on the phone.” Dillon answered with his mouth full. “I thought you were going to ground her for that?”

  Libby stared up as Natalie dropped a piece of ice into the woman’s glass, causing the tea to splash onto the table. “Ground her? From talking on the phone? Surely not.”

  Natalie added a few more cubes to the glass. “Chelsey is grounded, but not from phone calls—yet.”

  Jared cleared his voice. “Not to interfere, but it might be wise to at least monitor who she talks to.”

  “Yeah, I bet she talks to Lucas ten times a day,” Dillon said.

  “You think?” Natalie’s hand stalled in the air. What good did it do to ground the girl from the boy if she was just going to talk to him on the phone all day…or night? She returned the container of ice to the freezer, and feeling incredibly inept, slipped out of the kitchen to find Chelsey.

  Her sister lounged on the stairs talking on the phone, just as Dillon suspected. Natalie motioned for her to end the conversation.

  Chelsey rolled her eyes. “I’ll have to call you back,” she said to the person on the other end. “My warden is giving me the look.”

  After a few seconds, she closed the connection and stared up at
Natalie with a vile expression that bordered on hatred. “What’s the matter? Can’t I even talk to my friends now?”

  “Jared and Dillon are here. We’re ready to serve your cake.”

  “So what? You could eat without me.”

  Natalie clenched her teeth, tempted to strangle the mouthy teenager. “We have guests, Chelsey, and one of them is your mother. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for you to give us your attention for one night,” she said, hating the sound of her voice. When had she turned into such a disapproving nag?

  “How come you invited Pastor Jared, anyway? Aren’t we around him enough, without him eating with us? Besides, I didn’t think you liked him.”

  “Why do you say that?” The question lingered in Natalie’s throat.

  “Whenever he’s around, you end up arguing. All you do is fuss. You didn’t used to be so mean. What happened to you, anyway?” Chelsey rose from the stair step and moved past, clipping Natalie’s shoulder in a huff.

  Natalie couldn’t argue with the truth. She’d been angry a lot these days. The fact that she’d been angry, angered her even more.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  JARED 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 mo
tion. “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

  THE 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.