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.”
NATALIE MANAGED A SMILE FOR JARED 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.
THE NEXT MORNING, NATALIE 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 sh
e 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?
FOURTEEN
JARED PEERED THROUGH THE OFFICE WINDOW AS A RED CORVETTE PULLED under the church awning, its back bumper plastered with colorful rodeo slogans and advertisements. Chelsey stepped out of the passenger side, and he noted the driver, a scruffy looking boy wearing a ball cap.
“We’re still waiting for Sarah, so come on in and have a seat,” he said when she entered through the front doors. “I see you found a ride.”
Her brown eyes darted to his, and he read the guilt there. “A friend dropped me off.”
He continued to clear his desk of the papers he’d been working on, wishing his secretary would return soon. “Does your sister know about him?”
“Yeah, she’s cool with it. We’ve been dating for a while now.” Chelsey propped herself against the corner of the couch and crossed her ankles.
Jared recognized her green boots from the night before. He wondered what Natalie thought about the boy. “An upperclassman?”
The girl studied the tips of her fingers, avoiding eye contact. “He graduated this month. So, what do you have planned for Sarah and me? We gonna scrub floors?”
Jared chuckled. “I don’t think that’s the sort of mission work Mr. Trevor has in mind.”
“How old are you anyway?” Chelsey rose from the couch and scooted across the room to lean against his desk. “You don’t look much older than my sister. What should I call you? Jared? Mr. Jared? Pastor J?” She grinned.
“Pastor Jared will be fine.” He rolled his chair from the desk to create space between him and the short-skirted teen. At that moment, Mrs. Hildebrand walked in, her gaze taking in the girl’s position on his desk. She sniffed in disapproval but didn’t say a word.
Jared stood and moved to the hallway. “To answer your question, I’m probably several years older than your sister. What is she, around twenty-two or three?” Quite young to be harnessed with such responsibility, yet he knew from the few times they’d spoken that she was more than up to the challenge.
Chelsey shrugged. “Something like that.”
A car pulled up to the church, and the other teen traipsed in. “Sorry I’m late. I had to stay after school to finish a test.”
Jared waited for Sarah at his office door. “Well, you’re here now, so I guess we can get started.”
He led the girls to a small storage room packed with boxes and grocery sacks of nonperishable items donated to the church’s food pantry. “Mr. Trevor wants you to go through all of this and stack the cans and boxes on the shelves according to the labels, just like in a grocery store.”
The two girls groaned.
“This is going to take forever,” Chelsey said.
Jared checked his watch. “You have two hours. I’ll have Mrs. Hildebrand get you started, and if you need anything else, I’ll be in my office.”
Forty minutes crept by while Jared outlined his next sermon. In that time, Carol Trevor came in with two more boxes of food. He waved hello and pointed the youth leader down the hall. “They’re in the storage room, working like Egyptian slaves,” he teased.
Indeed, each instance he’d checked on the girls, they’d been hard at work organizing the room, despite the giggles that drifted to his office. Once his outline was finished, he went to evaluate the storage room and carried a set of empty cardboard boxes with him. Rows of neatly stacked food greeted him.
Chelsey stood with her hands on her hips, looking proud of her accomplishment. “How’d we do, Pastor J?”
“Not bad for two juvenile delinquents.” He grinned and set one of the boxes on a table. “I understand a member of your community had a house burn down a few days ago. His family could probably use some assistance, so I thought we could pack them some food.”
“That’s a great idea, and then I can deliver it to them on my way home.” Carol smiled, and Sarah’s face brightened. The two immediately selected several items from the shelves to put in the box.
“Don’t you want to help?” Jared asked Chelsey, noting how she hung back in the corner.
The girl shrugged. “I’d just get in the way.”
Jared wondered at her change in mood. “How many children do the Sheldon’s have?”
“Three,” Sarah said. “Two in grade school and one in…”
“Sixth grade,” Chelsey finished for her. “She’s in the same class as Dillon.”
“They’d probably appreciate some macaroni and cheese?” He gathered three containers of the pasta mix and placed them in the box. “What else?”
Before long, both boxes were full. Jared checked his watch, and seeing that they still had time, he had the girls carry the boxes to Mrs. Trevor’s Suburban.
“We chose this activity because we think there’s a lesson to be learned from it,” Carol said as she opened the back doors to her vehicle.
“That’s right,” Jared continued. “We don’t know why you got into that beer last night, or why you decided to come to the youth meeting int
oxicated, but we do know this—everything we do in life has consequences, whether good or not. No matter how bad we think things are, there is always someone else worse off. Take the Sheldons for example.” He lifted one of the heavy boxes into the back of the Suburban.
“One night they woke up to a house full of flames,” Carol said. “The mom had left a candle burning, and it tipped over while they were sleeping. A simple mistake, but look at the consequences. All of them got out except one—their four-year-old daughter.”
Jared watched as Chelsey swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. He knew it was a hard lesson for the girl to hear, but this was exactly the reaction he’d hoped for.
NATALIE RETURNED TO THE HOUSE, HER LEGS AND BACK STIFF AFTER EIGHT hours of riding fence and counting cattle.
“Where have you been?” Dillon sat at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich.
She set her cowboy hat on the counter, drawn to the smell of peanut butter. “Out in the pasture. Have you done your homework?” She reached for a slice of bread to make her own sandwich. The apple and crackers she’d eaten for lunch had long worn off, and her stomach roiled with hunger.
“Did you forget you were supposed to pick up Chelsey at church?”
Natalie checked the clock above the refrigerator and cursed. Slathering peanut butter on the piece of bread, she quickly folded it into a sandwich. “Come on, Chelsey’s going to kill me for making her wait.”
Twenty minutes later, she and Dillon pulled into the church parking lot and met Jared as he was getting into his car. Natalie rolled down her window. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got caught up with pasture work and lost track of time.” No way would she admit she’d forgotten about Chelsey’s service commitment. Not with her sister glaring at her from the back seat of Jared’s car.
Jared offered a courteous smile. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
Natalie nodded and parked her truck.
“Did you see the look on Chelsey’s face?” Dillon bounced on the bench seat, making the wire springs squeak beneath him. “You are so dead.”
Seeds of Summer Page 7
