Seeds of Summer (15 page)

S
UNDAY MORNING
, J
ARED LOOKED OUT AT HIS CONGREGATION AND
scanned the pews row-by-row, hoping to see Natalie and her family seated among the members. But they were not there, just as Natalie had warned. Disheartened, Jared put the woman out of his mind and focused instead on his parishioners and the sermon he'd prepared. Afterwards, Mrs. Hildebrand cornered him in the receiving line to invite him to dinner.

“I refuse to take no for an answer. You will join us, won't you?”

Jared peered over the heads of the congregation members filing out of the sanctuary. Why shouldn't he have lunch with this family? Had he really been so optimistic as to think there might be some hope for Natalie and him? At best, the idea was ridiculous. The two had so little in common. “Yes, of course, I'll join you for dinner. Thank you for thinking of me.”

Two hours later, Jared checked his watch, having spent a good portion of his afternoon warding off Mrs. Hildebrand's attempts to match him with her daughter. And to be fair, there was nothing wrong with Clarice, though he couldn't help but compare her to Natalie. Both quite pretty, Clarice had a sweet innocence about her, while Natalie exuded confidence—whether she possessed it or not.
“Thank you for a delicious dinner, but I should probably be going, as I promised to take Dillon Adams fishing this afternoon.”

“You spend a lot of time with those people, don't you?” His secretary sniffed.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, trying not to take offense at the comment. “They've had a lot of problems to work through since their father's death.”

“I should say so.” She huffed. “That woman at the ice cream social certainly had problems. I fear what sort of impression she left on the children. It makes me wonder if the older sister is mature enough to be Dillon and Chelsey's guardian.”

Jared tried to hold back his irritation. “I assure you, Miss Adams is quite capable of raising her brother and sister. I'm not going to condone her stepmom's behavior, but let's not forget that Jesus hung out with, and forgave, even the worst of sinners. We could all learn something from that.”

U
PON ESCAPING THE
H
ILDEBRANDS' HOME
, J
ARED LOOSENED HIS TIE, EAGER
to put on his old clothes and enjoy an afternoon of fresh air and fishing. It irked him that his secretary had questioned Natalie's ability. Sure, Natalie had more than her share of trouble, but she loved her brother and sister, and he had every confidence that she could handle the job.

A short while later, he drove the familiar road to the Double-A-Ranch. With his window down, he stretched out his arm to soak in the sun. He considered taking Dillon pond hopping, but by the time he arrived at the Adams' house he'd decided on the river, which would be more exciting for the boy and for him.

Dillon met him on the doorstep with his fishing rod and a glass jar in hand. Libby followed right behind. She wore a purple outfit today with her hair pulled back in a bun. “Dillon tells me you're taking him fishing this afternoon.”

Jared checked the clouds in the sky—slightly overcast. “I think it might be a good day for getting bites. Not too hot, either.”

“Would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade before you go?”

He glanced at Dillon, who seemed ready to be on his way. “Thanks for the offer, but if we leave now, we should get there right about feeding time.”

“I wouldn't want to interfere with that.” Her grin faltered. “About the other night at your church. I wasn't myself. I'm sorry if I caused you any embarrassment.”

Jared recognized the humility on her face. “I appreciate that, Libby. You're welcome to join us again. All of you.”

“Well, don't let me keep you,” Libby said. “Maybe you can join us for supper when you're done. I'm sure Natalie would like to see you.”

Jared's brow furrowed, tired of everyone's matchmaking. “I'll try to have Dillon back before dark,” he said, ready to shake the uncertainty from his mind and get on with simple pleasures. If Natalie wanted to see him, he felt sure she'd do so on her own terms and without the help of a woman like Libby.

J
ARED PARKED HIS CAR NEAR THE BEND IN THE RIVER, AND HE AND
D
ILLON
made their way down the steep riverbank. The water had receded since the last time he'd been here, and he made note of a fallen log upstream where a channel cat might lie in wait behind the current breaker.

“Do you ever go home empty-handed?” Jared asked Dillon, stopping at the river's edge to prepare their lines.

The boy stared up with a cheeky grin. “Nope, never.”

Jared set his line with a barrel swivel and an egg-shaped slip-sinker, then added a foot to the other end hoping to get a better snag on a fish. He ran the hook over his fingernail to test it, and it dug in plenty sharp. He glanced over at Dillon and noticed the container he held.

“What's in the jar?”

Dillon opened the lid, and Jared could smell the foul contents from where he stood. He wrinkled his nose and fanned his hand in front of his face. “Don't tell me that's your secret weapon?”

“Dad taught me how to make it.” Dillon's voice cracked with amusement. “He always used chicken livers, but hotdogs work just as well.” He pulled one from the jar and put it on a treble hook.

Jared had heard of homemade baits but had never tried them. “Works better than worms?” He wasn't convinced.

“Test it and see.” Dillon handed him one for his hook. “We also used dough balls made from cornflakes and cheese. That works pretty good too. Guess it depends on what you have in the cupboard.”

Jared studied the bait with skepticism. “Does Chelsey know you're pilfering her hotdogs?”

The boy giggled. “Think she'll want them back?”

“How long have they been fermenting?

Dillon scrunched his brow, and Jared could see his calculator working.

“Two weeks or so. I added a little garlic and salt too. Dad always said fish will eat just about anything as long as it smells bad.”

Jared bated his hook with the piece of hotdog and cast it into the river. “Well, here's to fishing with dogs.”

They both laughed, but it wasn't long before Dillon had a bite on his line.

N
ATALIE SWAYED BACK AND FORTH IN HER DAD'S WROUGHT IRON ROCKING
chair and stared at the tall elm branches above. This was her favorite time of evening—when the sun gave up its heat to the cicadas whirring in the trees. Beyond her in the pastures, the windmills squeaked and the grass waved quietly like the sea while the sky turned a red-violet indigo. She watched as Dillon and Jared strolled in with their day's catch. Jared's face beamed with pleasure.

“I take it Dillon told you his secret.” She nodded toward the string of fish in Jared's hand. “You've got a lot of work ahead of you.”

“You mean we have to clean them too?” Jared whimpered as though abused.

Natalie chuckled. “If you're not careful, you'll be cooking them as well.”

“I'll have you know, I'm a good cook.”

She noted the healthy glow of Jared's skin and had to admit the fresh air and sunshine was having a nice effect on the man. “I'm sure Chelsey would surrender the kitchen for one night.”

His eyes flashed at the challenge. “Are you inviting me to make supper?”

“Fish-and-chips?”

“And coleslaw too, if you have the ingredients.”

She rose from the chair and pointed at Dillon with a smile. “You heard the man. Run and get a knife. I'll tell Chelsey she has the night off.” Sensing Jared's eyes on her as she sauntered toward the house, she turned and caught him staring. Excitement fluttered in her chest.

Thirty minutes later, Natalie sat on a kitchen stool and watched as Jared prepared the meal. The others had abandoned them to play a game of cards in the living room. “Are you sure I can't do anything to help?”

The man sliced chunks of fish and dropped them into a cornmeal batter as though he'd done it every day. “Nope, I have it all under control.” He spun to fetch an item from the refrigerator.

“Why haven't you ever married?” She picked up a carrot and crunched it between her teeth, amazed that she'd had the nerve to bring up such a personal subject, especially when everyone in her family seemed to be throwing them together. “I'd think they would encourage young pastors to marry before assigning them a congregation.”

He seemed caught off guard by her question and stood frozen at the refrigerator. “They do encourage it…I mean, there aren't any laws that say a pastor has to marry.”

“Then why isn't there a Mrs. Logan?”

“There is.” He carried a bottle of lemon juice to the counter and squirted some into the bowl where the fish soaked. “My mother.”

“Very funny.”

“I guess I just haven't met the right one yet.”

“And what would the right woman look like?” She enjoyed the easy banter, but also wondered if the right woman might look anything like her.

Jared's eyes narrowed, as though trying to see inside her mind. “I'm sure I'll know her when I see her.”

Natalie fanned herself and cleared her throat, thankful for the explosion of laughter in the next room. “You must have certain qualities you're looking for—a man your age isn't single unless he has a list a mile long.”

“You think so?” He began placing the pieces of fish into the hot oil, causing it to sputter and bubble to the top of the kettle.

“I don't blame you. I'd be particular too.”

His chocolaty brown eyes called her bluff. “You're a former rodeo queen. Your list must be long, as well.”

“I'm not going to settle for just anyone.” Especially after what she went through with Ryan.

“You should be picky,” Jared said, sounding a lot like her father. “In fact, find yourself a good Christian man, who'll love you and make honorable decisions. That's what you should want in a husband.”

Natalie squirmed at the lecture. “Women must come to your church in droves to listen to your sermons. Not only are you the new preacher in town, but you're good-looking and single.” She hoped this might make him squirm some too. Instead, he laughed.

“If anything, my being a pastor scares women away. Few want the job of a pastor's wife—bake sales and all that.”

Warmth crept up Natalie's neck as he'd repeated her earlier thoughts almost verbatim. “I'm sure the right woman's out there.”

“Maybe so, but I'm not in any hurry—despite the weekly calls from my mother.” He removed the golden chunks of fish from the deep fryer and placed them on a tray lined with paper towels. “She
wants grandchildren and says she's tired of waiting for them.” He chuckled.

Drawn by the zesty lemon seasoning, Natalie snatched a piece from the tray and silently wished she could laugh and share such moments with her mom. “Does it bother you being single? I mean, are you ever lonely?” Her teasing mood shifted to one of genuine interest, as she weighed the probability of any man marrying her now that she bore such responsibilities. After all, flirting with Jared was one thing, marrying him was quite another.

“You're full of questions, aren't you?” He grinned. “But there are some things a man must refrain from answering, lest he bare his soul too much.”

“Now you sound like Willard.”

“Speaking of Willard, he's been wondering how you're getting along.” Jared motioned toward the other room where Libby and the kids played cards, effectively changing the subject. “He's worried. And, perhaps he has reason to be?”

“I'm keeping a close watch on her.” Natalie broke the piece of fish apart and watched the steam rise from the white flakes. “I wanted to thank you for your help the other night—and to apologize again. That couldn't have been easy, dealing with such a display in front of your congregation.”

“We all have problems—some more than others.” He sliced a few potato wedges to go with the fish. “I'd hoped to see you in church this morning.”

Her eyes darted to his. The man was persistent. But could he also be romantically interested in her? Was that why he kept prodding her to attend church? “I told you not to expect us.”

He shrugged. “And I told you I haven't given up.”

J
ARED BERATED HIMSELF, HOPING HIS WORDS HADN'T SOUNDED FLIRTATIOUS.
While that hadn't been his intent, this entire conversation about wives and marriage was getting too close for comfort.

Dillon came into the kitchen and snatched a piece of fish from the platter. “Is supper about ready? I'm starved.”

Glad for the interruption, Jared transferred the dish to the table and watched as the others filed through the door.

“This smells so good,” Libby crooned. “You are a man of many talents, aren't you? Better snag this one before he gets away, Nat.”

The kids giggled, and Natalie's face turned a lovely shade of pink, like a summertime peach from his mother's orchard. At this thought, Jared's chest grew warm, and he checked the clock above the refrigerator. “No wonder you're starving, Dillon. I'm sorry for making you wait so long to eat.”

“Don't worry about it.” Libby passed the plate of fish to her son. “This way we'll have lots of energy tomorrow morning. I'd like to get an early start and show you kids a thing or two about barrels. Thought you might like to compete in a few rodeos this summer.”

“That'd be cool.” Chelsey's face lit with enthusiasm, but not Dillon's.

“Barrels are for girls.” Dillon streamed ketchup over his fries.

“Well okay, after I'm done with Chelsey, I'll work with you on roping. I used to be a decent roper in my day. Course, if you really want to excel, you'll need to buy a trained horse that has some experience.”

“Not much chance of that happening,” Natalie scooped some coleslaw onto her plate. “We can't afford a horse like that—not yet anyway.”

“They can be expensive, but there are deals to be had.” Libby winked at Chelsey. “You just have to know where to look—which I do.”

“Maybe we'll find another stash of Dad's money.” As soon as the words came out, Dillon cupped his hand over his mouth and peered at Natalie.

Jared noted the instant tension this caused.

Libby's gaze bounced between the two. “What stash of money?”

“It's nothing.” Natalie shrugged. “You know how boys are. They find some money and imagine pirates and hidden treasure.” She scrunched her face at Dillon and smiled.

Libby huffed. “The way your dad liked to horde his money, it's a wonder you haven't found a hundred treasures.”

Natalie's fork paused in midair as she stared at the older woman. “Considering the gifts you've been showering on the kids, I'd say you know a thing or two about hording money yourself.”

Libby wiped her mouth on a napkin and cleared her throat. “If you have a problem with me buying things for the kids, just say so, Nat. I didn't realize it bothered you so much.” Her cheek twitched as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

Sensing a time bomb about to go off, Jared attempted to change the subject. “Natalie, how are your plans coming along for the queen clinic?”

Chelsey groaned. “No more queen talk, please. I've heard enough this past week to last a lifetime.”

“You should join us, Chelsey.” Natalie tried to sound upbeat, but Jared heard the irritation lining her voice. “There'll be several girls your age, and you could probably help with the horse event.”

“I already told you I'm not interested.” The teen refused to give in to Natalie's persistence.

Natalie drew a deep breath and turned her attention to Jared. “The clinic starts next Saturday, so if you want to stop by the fairgrounds then, we can run through your service.”

“Is there any particular subject you want me to cover?” Having never attended cowboy church, Jared wasn't sure what to expect.

“Whatever you come up with will be fine.”

Jared grinned, surprised that Natalie had given him such freedom. He knew God would provide suitable material for the event and silently prayed there would be a particular message in it for Natalie—something that would help her or speak to her heart. “I'll see what I can do.”