Rodeo Regrets

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  “This is Natalie Wentworth. She wanted to speak with you.”

  “Natalie.” He smiled. “It’s so nice to see you.”

  She scanned his features. The youth director her father had tried to inflict on her. “Brother Timmy?”

  “You two know each other?” Kendra frowned.

  “He was the youth director at my parents’ church.”

  “Wait—you grew up in church?” Surprise echoed in Kendra’s tone.

  “Just during my teen years. My sister loved the youth group.” But I never got involved, no matter how hard Daddy pushed.

  “How is Caitlyn?”

  “She’s good. She owns two clothing stores.”

  “Which ones? Maybe my wife and I will check them out.”

  An image of him in cowboy gear brought a smile to her lips. “I can’t picture you in cowboy-style clothing, but here’s her card.” She dug the card out of her purse. “When did you become Brother Timothy?”

  “Actually, I’d always gone by Timothy, but during the years I worked with the youth, I did anything I could think of to try and connect with them.” He shrugged. “Timmy sounded younger, less stuffy—so I went with it.”

  “I didn’t know you used to be a youth director.” Kendra turned to Natalie. “So this will be like talking to an old friend.”

  Not necessarily a friend. Brother Timmy had stopped by their house countless times—probably at her father’s request—but she’d barely acknowledged him. Yet Daddy had probably filled him in on the errors of her teenage angst back then.

  “I don’t want to bother you. If you need to meditate or whatever you do before church.”

  His smile was kind. “I’m all prayed up.”

  Kendra cleared her throat. “Do you want me to stay?”

  If anyone could understand her life, it was Kendra. Maybe having an ally would make this easier. A few weeks ago, she’d have laughed if anyone had told her she’d ever think of Kendra as an ally. More like a rival. At least, a few years ago, anyway.

  “Would you?”

  “Sure.” Kendra shut the door.

  He gestured to a chair. “Have a seat. I can assure you that whatever we speak of will go no further.”

  Natalie perched on the chair across from Brother Timothy’s desk.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “Eighteen months ago, I had a baby. Out of wedlock.” Her eyes stung.

  Brother Timothy’s expression didn’t change. It held no judgment, just concern, as he handed her a box of tissues.

  “I gave her up.” Natalie pulled a tissue out and dabbed her eyes. “But sometimes, I think I hear her cry, and I dream about her all the time.”

  What was she doing here? Figuratively on the therapist’s couch, where she never dreamed she’d end up. At least she sat in a chair and wasn’t actually on a couch.

  Brother Timothy leaned forward. “She was adopted?”

  “Her biological father has custody.”

  “Do you trust your daughter’s father to care for her?” His tone comforted her.

  Natalie relaxed a little. “I don’t know. At one time he was as unstable as me.”

  “What do you mean by unstable?”

  “Relationships.” Natalie pleated a fold in the fabric of her skirt. “Lots of them. For both of us. And we both used to drink pretty heavily.”

  “But you’ve both changed?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “He supposedly became a Christian. He begged me not to abort her and let him raise her. At the time, I just wanted out.”

  “He is a Christian.” Kendra clamped her lips shut. “Sorry to interrupt, but he’s a member of this church and he’s completely turned his life around.”

  “I see.” Brother Timothy steepled his hands as if in prayer. “Did you see your daughter when you were in the hospital?”

  “No. My mom tried to get me to, but I refused. I didn’t care.” Or I didn’t think I did.

  “But you do now?”

  Natalie stood and paced the office. “I left Aubrey to live in Garland after I had her, but I’m the publicist for the Fort Worth Stockyards now. I’ve moved back to Aubrey and I’ll have to work in the area for a while until I can get things organized enough to handle my work online.” Her heels clicked across the hardwood flooring. “I’ve already accidentally run into her once and had a couple of tense run-ins with her father since we live and work in the same geographic area now.”

  “Did you think about her when you were in Garland?”

  “My daughter has haunted me since her birth. But now it’s worse. I can’t sleep. I’m fidgety. I don’t enjoy life like I used to.” Men weren’t a challenge anymore. And no comfort. “I need peace.”

  “And you thought talking it out might help?”

  “Yes.”

  “But there’s more, isn’t there, Natalie?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brother Timothy smiled. “Are you a Christian?”

  “No.” Sarcasm filled her tone. “If I were, do you think I’d have gotten pregnant outside of marriage, considered an abortion and given my daughter away?”

  “It happens.” He sighed. “More than you realize. Christians aren’t perfect. We’re just forgiven.”

  All the ones she knew sure seemed perfect. Natalie hugged herself. Forgiven sounded good.

  “I’m living proof of that.” Kendra’s hand touched her shoulder.

  She sank into the chair and the tears came again. “I miss her so bad. I didn’t think I cared. I didn’t want to care, but I do,” she squeaked.

  “I think you need two things, Natalie.” Brother Timothy pressed a fresh tissue into her hand.

  “What?” Natalie swabbed her face.

  “We both know Aubrey isn’t a whole lot closer to Fort Worth than Garland.”

  “True, but I have a house in Aubrey, my family is here and the commute is better.”

  “True, but I think the real reason you came home is your need to see your daughter. Perhaps only a few times to see that she’s properly taken care of and to gain closure.” Brother Timothy leaned back in his chair. “If that doesn’t work, perhaps visitation. But I’m guessing you don’t want to disrupt her life unless you find she’s not well cared for.”

  A bubble of fear shot through her. What did she know about babies?

  “I can assure you both—she’s well taken care of.” Kendra settled in the chair beside Natalie.

  Natalie bit her lip. “What’s the other thing?”

  The pastor leaned forward again. “You need Jesus.”

  Chapter 5

  Natalie attempted to laugh. But it sounded nervous. “You sound like my parents and sister. But even if I did need Him, He’d never take me on.”

  “Jesus takes on anyone who asks.” Brother Timothy flipped his Bible open. “Let me share some scripture with you. Would that be all right?”

  “I guess.” Natalie shrugged. “But I’m not sure I can come to church here.”

  “You don’t feel comfortable because your daughter’s father is here?”

  “I don’t want to take her away. Not unless they’re neglecting her.”

  “Wyatt and Star love her, Natalie. I promise.” Kendra covered her mouth with her hand. “Oops. But it’s true, they live for her.”

  Warmth crept up Natalie’s neck. No telling what Wyatt had said about her. What must the pastor think of her? Her gaze lifted to meet Brother Timothy’s. “Did you know?”

  “I figured it out.” He nodded. “It’s a small church. But I agree with Kendra, Wyatt and Star love Hannah. They’re very happy.”

  “Then I won’t disrupt Hannah’s life. But I...”

  “I suggest a meeting with Wyatt and Star here in my office. Pe
rhaps visitation?”

  “I’m not sure if I can even have that. Legally.”

  Brother Timothy looked thoughtful, but not judgmental. “If you like, I can talk with Wyatt first. Then perhaps we can set up a meeting and I could act as mediator.”

  The pressure in her chest dissolved. “That would be great.”

  A buzzer sounded.

  “Is my time up?”

  “That means it’s time to gather for devotion and then go to class. But I don’t have to be there.”

  “I don’t think I should stay for the service.”

  “You can stay here in my office, if you like. I can turn the monitor on, so you can see and hear the service.”

  “Perfect.” Kendra turned her chair to face the monitor. “I’ll stay here with you, if you want.”

  A friend. Her first female friend, other than her sister and her cousin. “That sounds great.” And to think at one time, she and Kendra had squared off over Clay at a rodeo.

  “Let me show you that scripture.” Brother Timothy turned the Bible so she could see.

  But did she want to see? The pressure in her chest came back with full force. “I know all about it.”

  “You do?” Brother Timothy’s gaze never left hers.

  She looked down. “I may not have participated in church, but I heard a few things. I know Jesus died on the cross—supposedly for my sins. I know He rose again and I’m supposed to confess my sins to Him. Then I’m supposed to clean up my life and ask Him to be my savior. He’s supposed to save my soul and get me to heaven.”

  “All true. Except, there’s no supposedly about it and you don’t have to clean a thing. Jesus will do that for you. He takes our filthy rags and washes us white as snow. You’ve got the head knowledge, you just need the heart knowledge.”

  She met his gaze again. “I’ve always wondered...”

  “Yes?”

  “Did He really mean me?” The things she’d done—how could Jesus accept her?

  “He meant everyone. All you have to do is ask, Natalie. If you’ll accept Jesus, He’ll accept you.”

  * * *

  Lane scanned the sanctuary as the church service began. No Natalie.

  She’d left without him. Had she gotten cold feet? Changed her mind about him? About God?

  “Expecting someone?” Stetson whispered.

  “A friend. She was here earlier.”

  “Relax. Kendra texted me. She’s in the office, watching on the monitor with Natalie.”

  “Why don’t they join us?”

  “Natalie didn’t want to upset Wyatt and Star.”

  “What’s up with Natalie and Wyatt?”

  “I thought you knew.” Stetson shook his head. “I’m not going there. That’s Natalie’s department.”

  The pianist began playing. Lane didn’t bother with a hymnbook, he knew them all by heart.

  The church had been redecorated since he was a kid. The old red pews and carpet had been replaced by more contemporary navy blue. But the piano was still there, probably the same one, and the hymnbooks transcended time. How had he stayed out of church so long? How had he never gotten it as a kid?

  And now Natalie was here.

  The third hymn faded away and Brother Timothy approached the pulpit, bowed his head and prayed.

  If she became a Christian, they could start all over. With pure hearts. Free to love each other. If only Jesus could win her heart.

  He tried to concentrate on the sermon. Brother Timothy always held his attention, but not today. He could only think about Natalie. And what was up with her and Wyatt?

  The music began again. The altar call. Lane had pondered right through the sermon. Several people visited the altar. Lane joined them there.

  Focus. He knelt there until his soul quieted, then returned to his seat.

  The music ended and Brother Timothy closed the service in prayer.

  The crowd filtered toward the lobby. He caught a glimpse of Kendra waiting there, but no Natalie.

  She’d left without him. Even after he’d asked her to stay for lunch.

  He neared Brother Timothy, anxious to ask how it had gone with Natalie and where she’d gone.

  “She’s waiting in your truck,” Kendra whispered.

  His grin spread straight through his heart. “Thanks.” He bypassed the line shaking Brother Timothy’s hand and headed for the door. It was rude. But he did it anyway.

  He could see her through his tinted windows. In the middle instead of on the passenger’s side. He jogged the rest of the way and pulled the door open. “Feel better about things?”

  She nodded. “Can we get out of here?”

  “Sure.” His fingers itched to touch her hair. Her cheek. Her lips. But they had to start fresh. Without the physical stuff. He started the engine. “Where to for lunch? I think everyone pretty much goes to Moms on Main. Ever been there?”

  “I love their food, but is that where Wyatt and Star go?”

  “Probably.” He followed the line of cars out of the parking lot.

  “Then anywhere else.”

  “I know a great steak house.”

  “Yum.”

  “How did your talk with Brother Timothy go?”

  “I think I’m a Christian.”

  Joy burst in his soul, despite her uncertainty. He pulled to the shoulder of the road and turned to face her. “You can’t think you’re a Christian. Doesn’t work that way. You either are or you’re not.”

  “It was weird—I knew Brother Timothy before. My parents dragged me to church during my teens and he was the youth director there.” She lifted one shoulder. “At first I was uncomfortable, but he was very soothing. I don’t understand it all. He read some scripture and I got this funny feeling in my chest.”

  “Did you say the sinner’s prayer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  Her eyes got watery and she nodded. “I’m a sinner and the only thing that will fix me is Jesus. But He’s got a lot of fixing to do.”

  He got out of the truck, came around and opened her door. “Get out.”

  “Why?’

  “Just humor me.” He helped her down, then scooped her up and swung her around.

  She clutched his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

  “Celebrating! You’re a Christian!” He set her down.

  “Am I? I don’t even know what it means. I’ve done so many horrible things.”

  “So have I. That means you’re human. And I still struggle. You will, too.”

  “Struggle.”

  “Accepting Jesus as your Savior doesn’t make life all rosy. Christians still struggle. With old ways. With life. With temptation.”

  “Like you did last week.” Her cheeks pinked. “Sorry about that.”

  Natalie Wentworth blushed. He needed to mark his calendar. Jesus had done a miraculous work in her already.

  “It’s in the past and Jesus washed it away. Just like He washed away what I did to you in high school. He forgives and forgets. We’re the ones who tend to hang on to past mistakes and still hold ourselves accountable.” He picked her up again. “You’re going to heaven when you die.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I know so.” And he was free to love her.

  Natalie’s stomach grumbled and she clutched a hand to it as Lane set her down again.

  “Better get you some food.” He helped her back into the truck and walked around it.

  Settled in the driver’s side, he glanced over at her. “I’d like to continue to see you, Nat. On a regular basis.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “But I need to know what the deal is with Wyatt.” He started the engine.
/>
  Her gaze dropped to her lap.

  “I’d like to start over with you, Natalie. Fresh. But we have to be honest with each other.”

  She huffed out a big breath. “Wyatt has a daughter, Hannah.”

  “And.”

  “I’m her mother.”

  His gut wrenched. Didn’t see that coming. “Y’all were married?”

  “No. I’ve never married anyone.”

  “He has custody?”

  “Yes.”

  He waited for an explanation. But none came. Had she lost custody because she’d been promiscuous? No. That didn’t matter. To the world or the courts. As long as they didn’t move a child molester in, it seemed single parents could play musical bed partners as often as they wanted. And the court couldn’t care less that the nuclear family had all but fallen by the wayside.

  No. Mothers only lost custody if they were unfit. Drugs, usually. She was stronger than that and too smart. Maybe alcohol. She’d come from a bar the night she’d shown up at his door. Or maybe Wyatt had even more money than the Wentworths and he’d pulled strings to take Hannah away from her.

  “Does he have a restraining order against you or something?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” Her voice grew soft. “But I don’t want to disrupt her life. I just want to see her and I’m trying not to upset Wyatt so he’ll let me. Brother Timothy wants to set up a meeting for us to talk it over.”

  “That’s ridiculous. A mother shouldn’t have to beg to see her daughter.” No matter what she did.

  “Does this change your opinion of me?”

  “No. Whatever you did in the past, it’s over, and you’re different now. At least you didn’t kill her.”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath. “Why would you say that?”

  “Six months ago, my girlfriend got pregnant and aborted my baby. Without even telling me until it was over. Too late. That’s what finally drove me to my knees and God.” He punched the steering wheel. “What kind of woman could even think about aborting a child?”

  She didn’t say anything and he glanced her way. All color had drained from her face.

  “Sorry. Obviously, I still need to work on my anger. Not very appetizing lunch discussion.”