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Authors: Deborah Vogts

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BOOK: Seeds of Summer
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SIXTEEN

JARED FOLLOWED NATALIE TO THE HOUSE AND EXTENDED HIS ELBOWS OVER
his head. He couldn't believe how much his arms ached from throwing a rope the past two hours, not to mention the stiffness that had settled in his lower body. Hovering over a desk all day couldn't compare to sitting in a saddle. He'd never again mistake cowboying as a passive sport that didn't require athletic ability.

After washing in the utility room with the rest of the crew, he joined Willard at the charcoal grill, the afternoon sun beating down on their heads.

“You did pretty well out there.” Willard flipped a burger, the blazing fire licking up the grease as it hit the coals.

A trail of mesquite smoke pursued Jared, and his stomach rumbled. “Not bad for a greenhorn, you mean?” He glanced at his raw calloused hands, and his embarrassment seeped through as he noted the real cowboys visiting beneath the shade trees. No way could he compare to the Edwards' brothers or to Bruce and Ray Bennett—men who made their living from the Flint Hills. They probably considered him a fool for trying, which shamed him even more. He swallowed the inadequacy that rose from his gut and tried instead
to make light of the experience. “It's a day I'll not soon forget, that's for sure.”

“At least not until your backside stops hurting.” Willard grinned, and his white teeth stood out against his dark, leathery skin. “Sleep is sweet for the man who labors long.” He shot Jared a knowing look and chuckled.

Dillon rushed up to the two men with a platter in his hand. “Chelsey wants to know when the burgers will be ready.” He eyed the sizzling patties on the grill, looking nearly as famished as Jared felt.

“Tell her to give me another ten minutes.” Willard jabbed a charcoaled bratwurst with a long handled fork and laid it on the boy's plate. “Taste this and let me know if it's cooked enough.”

“Gee thanks.” Dillon let it cool for a few seconds then picked it up and bit off half, causing his cheeks to bulge. He held out the empty plate. “Got any more?”

Willard smiled great big. “Guess it passed inspection?”

Dillon nodded. “Are you guys going to the rodeo tonight?” he asked as soon as he'd swallowed enough to speak.

Jared shrugged, having heard lots of talk about the event at the café. “I don't know. I have church in the morning. Are you?” He stared down at the boy's freckled cheeks, remembering the fun he'd had when his granddad drove him to the local rodeo back home.

“If I can talk Nat into taking me. I heard Chelsey and her arguing about it earlier, but I don't think she's going to let Chelsey go 'cause of all the trouble she's gotten into lately.” He said this as though it were old news. “What about you, Willard? You going?”

Willard shook his head. “I don't suppose I'll have a mind to do anything this evening besides sit in my recliner and maybe read a book. I haven't gone to a rodeo in years—but that ain't no reason you young folks can't go and enjoy it.”

The hopeful spark in the boy's eyes dwindled, and his dejection tugged at Jared's heart. Dillon had been through more than most
adults these past few weeks, and the poor kid needed to get out and have some fun. Chelsey and Natalie too. An idea began to form, and Jared scratched his chin as he considered the possibilities. “Let me talk to your sister and see what her plans are. Maybe we can work out a way for you to go.”

Willard's eyebrows puckered. Then he seized the platter from the boy's hands. “Best tell Chelsey to be setting out her food. These here burgers are just about ready to serve.” Once he shooed Dillon to the house, he peered over at Jared, his eyes narrow slits.

“Natalie won't like you interfering, if that's what you have a mind to do.”

“The boy misses his dad.” Jared challenged the old man.

Willard thrust the platter toward Jared without a word.

“I'm not condemning Natalie.” Jared held the plate steady while Willard piled the cooked meat onto it. “I know she has a lot on her mind. I just want to give the boy a chance to have some fun. She doesn't realize how much he needs it.”

Willard smiled then, and Jared caught a glimpse of understanding. “If you get her to see what we see, you'll be accomplishing a mighty task, indeed.”

NATALIE LIFTED THE BOWL OF POTATO SALAD FROM THE KITCHEN COUNTER
and grabbed a bag of chips on her way outside. Mattie and Lori followed with more food in tow. Now the end of May, the temperature outside had turned hot and humid. “Thank goodness for air conditioners,” Natalie said as she made her way to the porch.

“We've had ours on for a month already,” Mattie admitted with a chuckle. “When Gil comes inside after work, he wants to cool off fast—unlike John, who prefers the attic fan. It's caused more than one argument since we've been married.”

“Dad was like that too.” Natalie's father believed fresh air, even if
it was ninety degrees outside, was better for a person than air conditioning. Now that he was gone, she guessed it wouldn't be an issue.

When Natalie reached the bottom of the porch steps, a hand pressed against her shoulder. She turned to see Mattie's green eyes, soft and thoughtful.

“We're real sorry about your dad. If you kids need anything, be sure and let us know. Gil and I don't live that far away, and we'd be happy to help.”

“That goes for us too,” Lori said. “If there's anything we can do to make your life easier, all you have to do is call.”

Natalie smiled at the women who were both nearing the age of thirty. She considered Willard's words from earlier that if you wanted a friend you had to be one. “Your being here means a lot. We would have struggled to get done today without the extra help.”

“That's what friends are for.” Mattie grinned and Natalie took an instant liking to the red-haired veterinarian.

They made their way across the yard to the picnic table where Chelsey arranged the items with care beneath the shade tree. Last night Natalie and her sister had stayed up late preparing this lunch, making baked beans, potato salad, and coleslaw. Though Natalie knew how to cook, it wasn't something she enjoyed like Chelsey, who had baked two apple pies and a chocolate cake to go with everything else.

“You did good, sis.” Natalie hugged her sister, pleased with the results and proud of the teen's efforts. It felt nice to get along after all the bad incidents this past month. Maybe everything would work out okay, after all.

While the others went to get more food, Chelsey stepped away from the table, chewing on a fingernail. “You think it'll be enough?”

Natalie took in the large spread before them and noted the flies now swarming around the food. “We should be more worried about the insects eating it.” She tried to shoo the flies away, but they seemed to multiply by twos.

Willard and Jared arrived with the hamburgers and sausages, and the others soon joined them. “Would you like me to ask the blessing?” Jared eyed Natalie, and she reluctantly nodded, not sure why this man annoyed her so. When he finished the prayer, she retreated further into the shade, allowing the guests to fill their plates.

She inwardly groaned when Jared followed. Could he not see that she wanted a little privacy? A little time to relax?

“Chelsey makes a good hostess.” He stood next to her, his gray T-shirt spotted with sweat.

Natalie nodded. Perhaps if she remained quiet, he would get the message and go away.

He kicked the ground with the heel of his work boot and rubbed the dark growth already shadowing his jaw. “Dillon mentioned going to a rodeo tonight. It sounds like fun. Are you and the kids planning to attend?”

Withering under his scrutiny, Natalie fanned her face with her hand. As a former Miss Rodeo Kansas, a major supporter of all things rodeo, she couldn't ignore his question though she wanted to. Nor could she refrain from attending the rodeo. She would be expected to go, but more than that, she wanted to be there.

“Maybe,” she said in a voice so low she hoped he wouldn't hear.

He leaned closer, as though straining to catch the words in his ear. “Maybe yes or maybe no?” he asked.

She shrugged, not willing to admit her plans.

“Well then, maybe I could take you and the kids,” he suggested. “Or if that doesn't work, perhaps you'd let me take Dillon. I haven't been to a rodeo in years. It'd do your brother good to get out and forget some of his troubles.”

Appalled at where his trail of questions had led, Natalie cleared her throat and readjusted her ponytail. “I hardly think so. Dillon doesn't need you for a babysitter. If he goes anywhere, he'll go with me.”

“You'll take him, then?”

She folded her arms across her chest, feeling backed against a barn door. “Why is it any of your business if we go or not? Just because you have Chelsey under your thumb doesn't mean the rest of us have to report in every day.”

“Maybe if you did report in, you wouldn't feel so overwhelmed.” He looked down his nose at her with a condescending air. “It's sometimes referred to as sharing one's load.”

His tone raked across her nerves, and her mouth gaped.

“Relax.” He latched on to her elbow and steered her toward the picnic table. “I know you're hungry.”

A south breeze gusted toward them, carrying with it the man's sweet musky scent muddled with sweat. That she found the smell not the least bit distasteful irritated her even more. She yanked her elbow from his grasp and distanced herself on the opposite side of the table.

“I am relaxed.” She spoke beneath her breath, hoping the others were too involved in their own conversations to notice. “Who do you think you are, talking to me this way?”

“I'd like to think I'm your friend.” He heaped a large spoonful of potato salad onto his plate then slopped some baked beans right beside it. “Not a mortal enemy. A friend.”

Natalie followed, dishing up small portions for herself. “Some friend. We hardly know each other.”

With every scoop of food, the man's agitation appeared to rise until they met at the end of the table, face-to-face, plate-to-plate.

“From the moment we met, you've treated me with disdain.” His hushed voice vibrated the lump in his throat. “And what did I do to deserve it? I tried to befriend your brother, that's what. To befriend you. Your sister. I even gave up fishing to help you with your cattle today. But can you say thanks? No…” He flung a handful of potato chips to his plate, half of them falling to the ground.

“This picnic is our thanks,” Natalie said through tight lips, tempted to argue that she hadn't asked for, nor did they need his
help. She had to wonder at his motives for doing so, anyway. Was he offering the help out of kindness, or were his motives more self-serving, like Ryan's had been?

“You're too busy dissecting everything I say to appreciate that I'm only trying to help.” He set his plate on the table. “Do you even realize how much Dillon is hurting? How much he misses his father?”

Natalie's eyes darted to her brother on the porch steps, tossing bits of food to Jessie, their border collie. “Of course, he does. We all do.”

“Then what are you doing about it?”

She shook her head, feeling trapped. “What do you mean? We're working. We're keeping busy.”

Jared brought a chip to his mouth and crunched into it slowly. “Take him to the rodeo. Relax for a change.”

“Okay already.” Natalie raised her chin to the hot sun now hiding behind a puffy white cloud. “I planned to take him all along. If you hadn't been so intent on questioning me, I might've told you before.”

“It's about time you come to your senses.” He smiled and winked at her. “What do you think? Can we call a truce?”

She shook her head, frazzled at trying to keep up with his wordplay.

Willard joined them at the table, a wooden toothpick poking from his mouth. “Are you two done trading punches?”

Natalie sobered at the scene they'd caused. She knew better than to be controlled by her emotions, had spent the last year guarding her words, practicing diplomacy on every count. Yet her year of royalty hadn't made one bit of difference when it came to this man. He still had a way of getting under her skin.

“I believe we're quite finished.” She eyed Jared, who'd stuffed his mouth with a bite of hamburger.

“That's good.” Willard slid a grin between the two of them and nodded toward the yellow sedan that had pulled into the driveway. “I'd hate for your company to be caught in the thick of battle.”

SEVENTEEN

THE WOMAN APPROACHED THEM, HER BLEACHED-BLONDE HAIR FLOATING
out from under a white cowboy hat. As she neared, Natalie had the oddest sensation come over her—as though she knew the lady.

Willard stepped in front of Natalie and blocked the middle-aged woman from view, his arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing here?” Condemnation filled his voice.

Natalie eased to his side to get a better look.

“Still the watchdog, I see.” The woman's brown eyes sparked with fire against a dark tan and ruddy cheeks. “It's good to see you, Willard. It's been a long time.”

“Not nearly enough.”

She laughed, then fixed her gaze on Natalie. “This must be my little Nat. My, but you've grown. And a beauty queen too, I hear.” She reached out for a hug, smelling of coconut tanning oil.

Natalie wasn't sure how to respond, thinking the stranger must be one of her father's relatives, a long-lost aunt or cousin, perhaps.

“You don't recognize me, do you?”

The woman's face seemed vaguely familiar, but Natalie shook her head.

“Well, I suppose the last time you saw me you were pretty young.”
Her smile cracked as she searched the yard, as though looking for something or someone. “I'm sorry to hear about your dad. That's why I came. I thought I might be able to help.”

Willard's hands moved to his hips. “She don't need your help, Libby, so you might as well go back to whatever hole you climbed out of.”

When Natalie heard the name, her mind snapped to a time long ago—a time long forgotten.

With the reaction of a bulldog, the woman gave Willard a nasty snarl and shoved past him to take Natalie by the arm. “Where are my babies? I'm dying to see them.”

Natalie choked back a response. Could this be her father's second wife, Libby? But how could that be? She'd left them years ago, had been killed in a car accident. At least that's what Dad told them. “I thought you were dead.”

The woman's chin dropped in a deep-throated chuckle. “Oh sweetheart, I'm very much alive, I assure you.”

Dressed in peach colored jeans and a matching tank top that emphasized her plump bosom and thick waist, she strode with purpose toward the porch where Dillon sat with their dog. Natalie followed in a daze, not sure whether to believe the woman or ask to see proof of her identity.

Willard came up beside Natalie, his eyes peeled on the woman in question.

“What do you make of this?” Natalie asked. “You recognized her, didn't you? You knew Libby was alive?”

Her friend's teeth clamped down on the wooden toothpick he'd been chewing. “Mark my words, that woman ain't nothing but trouble.”

“But why would Dad tell us Libby had died, and why would she come back after all these years?”

“Maybe he was protecting you. Didn't want you to feel abandoned. As to why she's back, I have no idea…but I aim to find out.”

They caught up to Libby before she'd reached the porch, and Natalie lurched in front, blocking the woman from her brother's curious stare. “Libby, wait.”

The woman stopped, a trace of urgency and irritation on her face. “What? I just wanted to say hello to my boy. That is my boy there, isn't it? He looks just like his dad.”

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“You've become quite the mother hen, haven't you? Guess that's to be expected. You always were protective of them.”

Jessie got up to sniff the woman's boots, as unsure of her identity as Natalie.

Could this really be her brother and sister's mom? The woman who abandoned them when Dillon was only a few months old? She remembered the day Libby left. Natalie had clung to her, screamed at the top of her lungs. Her dad had been gone when her stepmother dragged her suitcase out the door, leaving Natalie to care for her half brother and sister all by herself.

Disgust replaced confusion. Natalie looked around at the neighbors who visited under the shade tree, unaware of her turmoil. She turned in a circle and everything blurred together—the vehicles and buildings, the home she'd grown up in, the ranch that spread out before her—all she knew and loved—her haven of safety. Chelsey arranged food on the picnic table, and Dillon lingered on the porch steps, as though sensing something amiss.

“Dillon and Chelsey believe you're dead,” she managed to say. “They have no idea their mother's alive. I think it would be best for me to talk to them—prepare them for the shock.”

The woman huffed like a teenager. “I don't want to hurt them, I want to hug them.” She shuffled to move past Natalie, apparently set on doing just that.

“Libby, you'll do no such thing.” Willard gripped her arm and stopped her progress.

From the corner of her eye, Natalie noticed Jared ambling toward
them. Her stomach knotted at the thought of the preacher getting involved with yet another complication in their lives.

“Everything okay over here?” He handed Natalie her plate, his mood unhampered and jovial, completely oblivious to the tension in the air. “You left your food on the table. I hope our little discussion didn't spoil your appetite.”

Natalie took her plate and attempted to steer him in another direction. She had no desire for Jared to know the gritty details of their life, especially when she didn't understand them herself. “How would you like to tell Dillon that we're going to the rodeo tonight? I thought he might enjoy hearing it from you, since you're such good buddies and all.”

Jared's brow crinkled, and he stared back at Willard and Libby. “I can stick around if you need me.” His gaze didn't waver, and she wondered if he might be more in tune to the situation than she thought.

“Take Dillon away from here. She leaned in closer. Please? I can't get into it now, but I'll fill—”

“And who is this?” Too late, Libby joined their conversation. She came and stood inches from Jared, eyeing him from head to foot. “Is this your fellow, Nat? Not bad, not bad at all.”

Embarrassment coursed through Natalie's veins. “No…I don't have a—”

Jared reached out to greet her. “I'm one of the extra cowhands today. I'm also the pastor at New Redeemer Church, Jared Logan. Pleased to meet you.”

Libby accepted his hand, her eyes contemplating him like a piece of sterling silver. “A pastor, huh? If all pastors are as handsome as you, I might start hanging out at church.”

Jared chuckled. “I can't think of a better place for you to hang out.”

Libby grasped his left hand and boldly turned it over. “Are you single?”

“I am.”

“Even better.” Her stepmom grinned.

Natalie found the entire conversation distasteful and couldn't believe Jared was encouraging the woman's interest.

“I was just about to browse the desserts if you'd care to join me.” He took the woman's arm, and she switched gears faster than a racecar driver, apparently no longer interested in visiting Dillon.

Jared stole a peak at Natalie before strolling off. “Do you still want me to talk to Dillon about the rodeo?”

Natalie shook her head, wishing he hadn't mentioned their plans aloud. “No, that's okay. I'll take care of it.”

The woman stopped and crooned. “Are you going to the rodeo tonight?”

Jared waited for Natalie's response.

“Yes, I guess we are,” she managed.

“That's perfect.” Libby smiled up at Jared. “Now I'll have someone to sit with.”

Natalie thought she might throw up. How would she explain this woman's presence to Chelsey and Dillon? Not only that, but now she'd have to figure out a way to do it before the rodeo.

Willard came to her side and offered a meager smile. “Come to think of it, a little night air might do me good too. I think I'll join you folks if you don't mind the extra company. What time shall I pick you up, Natalie?”

BOOK: Seeds of Summer
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