A Baby For the Minister

by Laurel Blount

  Jacob considered his debit card, tucked it back in its slot and pulled cash out of his wallet. He’d brown-bag his lunch this week.

  “No charge.” Anna waved away his money as she popped the book in a bag.

  He shook his head. The bookstore was struggling to stay open, and he knew it. “Anna—”

  “Please. I want to help. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation just then. Don’t you pay any attention to what Digby Markham says. I think you’re exactly right about what our church is supposed to be doing with its money. Besides, I owe you a lot more than the price of a book. You’ve been so wonderful about visiting my dad, even now that he doesn’t recognize you most of the time.” She swallowed hard. “I can’t really pay you back, but at least I can pay the kindness forward a little bit. Right?”

  Jacob’s troubled heart warmed. That was the kind of thing he loved to hear from the members of his church. “How is Roger doing?”

  She sighed. “Oh, you know how Alzheimer’s is. He has good days and bad days, but I have to say his bad days are getting worse.”

  “I’ll stop by soon and spend some time with him.”

  “I think maybe you’d better keep on doing just what you’re doing, Pastor Stone. That girl needs you more than my father does right now. After all—” Anna offered him his bagged-up book and a sad smile “—Dad’s got me to help him. She doesn’t seem to have anybody.”

  As Jacob walked back to his office, he pondered the two very different conversations he’d just had. They were pretty good examples of the mind-sets dividing up his congregation right now. With this fellowship hall project gaining speed, he was going to have his hands full keeping a full-blown church split from happening.

  If he could even hang on to his job, that was.

  He’d been praying about all this for weeks, but so far he hadn’t sensed any clear direction.

  When Jacob finally slid into his truck in the church’s parking lot, he sat on the sun-warmed vinyl seat and considered the simple white-steepled church in front of him. He didn’t have God’s answer, not yet. But he knew one would come.

  Sooner or later.

  In the meantime, he’d do what he always did.

  The next thing.

  Digby had suggested he take a few days to tie up loose ends with his ongoing projects. Fine. That’s exactly what he would do.

  He glanced at his watch. Arlene would be at her Senior Yoga class at the community center right now. Perfect.

  “Call Arlene,” he instructed his phone. When his secretary’s voice mail gave its go-ahead beep, he said, “Arlene, it’s Jacob. I’m taking some of those vacation days you’re always badgering me about, and I’ll be out of the office for the rest of this week. Call Fred Parsons and get him to lead the Wednesday-night program. No calls except for emergencies, please. Thanks. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  He ended the call. Done. He’d just arranged for the longest stretch of time off work he’d had since he’d graduated from seminary.

  As a precaution, he set the phone on vibrate before he stuck it back into his shirt pocket. Senior Yoga only lasted another thirty minutes. As soon as Arlene heard his message, she’d be blowing up his phone, wanting details.

  He didn’t intend to give them.

  Jacob sat still for another few seconds, watching a strong wind buffet the solemn old oaks that surrounded the church. The weather was shifting. From the look of things, either spring was finally getting started or a monster storm was headed their way. Only time would tell.

  He cranked the truck and turned back toward town. He needed to make one quick stop at the bank before he headed for the two-lane highway connecting Pine Valley and Fairmont. He’d been looking forward to stopping by the hospital to see Natalie and Ethan, but that was going to have to wait for a couple of hours.

  He had a little shopping to do.

  * * *

  “I’ve seen a lot of cute going-home outfits, but I think this one’s the sweetest yet.” In the hospital elevator, the gray-haired nurse leaned over the car seat settled in Natalie’s lap and stroked the smocking on Ethan’s blue romper with a gentle finger. “Hard to believe a man bought it.” The woman winked at Natalie. “And that flower arrangement of yours was the biggest one on the whole maternity floor, just so you know. I’m surprised you don’t want to take it home with you.”

  “Oh no. I’d rather leave it at the nurse’s station for you all to enjoy,” Natalie protested quickly. Although it had been a little hard to leave those roses behind. Nobody had ever bought her flowers before. Adam certainly hadn’t.

  All the more reason to leave them. Now that she’d texted him that his son was born, surely Adam would be cutting his hiking trip short. He’d be coming back and taking over the role that Jacob had so kindly filled while he was gone.

  And that, Natalie told herself firmly, was a good thing.

  Pastor Jacob Stone had been an answer to her prayers, no doubt about it. But hopefully, this ride home from the hospital was the last favor she’d have to ask him for.

  When the nurse wheeled her to the hospital’s entrance, Jacob’s truck was already rattling noisily at the curb. He jumped out to take charge of Ethan, fastening the car seat to some sort of a base he’d already installed in the back seat of his truck. As he did, he joked with the nurse and the security guard, who laughed and teased him right back. He seemed to know everybody, and they all seemed to like him.

  And why not? He was a great guy.

  He just wasn’t her great guy.

  When Jacob finished snapping in Ethan’s seat, Natalie got out of the obligatory wheelchair and slid in the back of the truck beside her son. Jacob made no comment about her choice; he just settled her suitcase beside her and pulled the vehicle carefully out of the parking lot.

  The truck’s noisy engine would have made conversation difficult anyway, but Jacob stayed very quiet on the ride back to Pine Valley, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  When he pulled the truck to a stop in front of the old farmhouse, he blew out a relieved breath. “I haven’t felt so nervous driving since I was sixteen and taking the test for my license. I felt like I was transporting a load of nitroglycerine. This baby stuff is harder than I thought.”

  “Tell me about it.” Natalie was struggling to release the carrier section of Ethan’s car seat. “I can’t even get this thing unfastened.”

  “Whoever designed it probably has some fancy engineering degree and no kids. But it was the highest rated one for safety. I made the store clerk check. Here, let me help you.”

  He hurried around the truck just as Natalie managed to press the right button. “Got it.”

  “I’ll take him inside. The doctor said you shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy for a while.” He helped her out of the cramped back seat, then leaned back in to get Ethan.

  As he did, she caught another whiff of the spicy scent that always clung to him, and her heartbeat sped up. That smell was uniquely Jacob’s, and it was only detectable when he was very close. She’d noticed it on that first day, when he’d sat beside her to break the news about Adam and again when he’d held her hand during the long night of her labor.

  That scent carried strong memories with it now, and it managed to unsettle and reassure her all at the same time. She suddenly had a wildly inappropriate desire to bury her nose in the hollow of Jacob’s neck, shut out the world and breathe in the security this man seemed to carry around with him like a warm blanket.

  None of that, she told herself firmly.

  She heard a noise and turned to see Rufus casually rounding the corner of the house, a twig dangling out of his mouth.

  “Oh man. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jacob straightened up. Ethan, snugly cradled in his heavy padded seat, swung easily from the minister’s muscled arm. “I spent hours fixing that fence. I e
ven made Hoyt double-check it for me. We thought for sure we had it goat-proofed this time.”

  Natalie’s gaze had strayed over to the front porch. “Hoyt? Who’s that?”

  “Hoyt Bradley. He goes to our church, and he’s the best general contractor in town.” Jacob sent Rufus a narrow-eyed glare, and the goat backed up slowly behind the house until only the tip of his nose was visible. “Yeah, you better hide, buddy. As soon as I get this baby settled, you’re going straight back in your pen.”

  “Jacob? What else did Hoyt do while he was here?”

  Jacob glanced back at her. “I had him replace a few boards on the porch.”

  Natalie blinked. A few boards? This Hoyt Bradley had done a lot more than that. New wood gleamed on the steps and the porch floor, strong and golden in the afternoon sunlight.

  “I’m not so sure that was a good idea. This isn’t even my house, Jacob.”

  “There was no way you could carry a baby up and down those steps, Natalie. They were nearly rotted through. It wouldn’t have been safe.”

  He had a point, and the fact that he cared enough to see about it for her made those silly emotional flutters start up again. He’s just doing his job, she reminded herself firmly. Don’t read anything into it. “I guess you’re right. But how much did it cost?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I tried to pay Bradley, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He even donated the lumber.”

  “Let me guess. This Hoyt owed you a favor.” Everybody else in town sure seemed to. Her eyes wandered back over the porch. An elephant could walk on that thing now. “Must have been a pretty big one.”

  “Hoyt’s wife died a couple of years ago. It was a rough time for him. I did what I could, but it wasn’t all that much, to tell you the truth. He does seem to feel like he owes me, though. I don’t know why. Like I said, he goes to my church.”

  Natalie nodded slowly. “And you were just doing your job.”

  Jacob smiled. “Exactly. Now let’s get this little guy inside so I can go deal with that Houdini of a goat.”

  * * *

  Jacob was glad Natalie dropped the issue of the porch repairs. He figured he’d have enough to deal with when she saw what he’d done to the inside of the house.

  As it turned out, he was right about that.

  “What...what did you do?” Five minutes later, Natalie stood in the doorway of the smaller of the farmhouse’s two bedrooms, her face bewildered. “Where did all this come from?”

  “The little guy needed a nursery.” Jacob set Ethan, still asleep in his bucket seat, on the round blue rug he’d unrolled earlier this morning. He looked around with a rising sense of satisfaction. “And I didn’t get all that much. Just the basics.”

  He had that on good authority. The salesclerk at the Baby Superstore in Fairmont had assured him that this was the absolute minimum for a functional baby’s room. A crib, a changing table, a rocking chair and a little chest of drawers for clothes.

  And airplanes. Airplanes everywhere.

  When she’d asked him what theme he wanted, he hadn’t had a clue what she was talking about until she explained. Apparently, all nurseries required decorations, and there seemed to be endless possibilities. He’d been in a hurry, so he’d just pointed to an airplane display. Why not? He liked airplanes.

  So Ethan had airplane bedding for his crib, an airplane lamp, a rug with a big red airplane in the middle of it and a mobile of little stuffed biplanes flying in circles. The clerk had also set him up with some diapers, a baby monitor and an assortment of clothes, including some impossibly tiny socks.

  He’d had no idea socks even came in a size that small. They barely fit on his thumbs.

  He’d learned more—and had more fun—doing that shopping than he’d had since he’d gone on his short-term mission trip to Uganda two years ago.

  And he hadn’t thought about Digby or his nephew or the fellowship hall for hours.

  Win-win, in his book.

  “Jacob.” Natalie started, then stopped and looked around at the nursery again. “This is...so generous. But I can’t...there’s just no way...”

  He’d expected this reaction, and he had his argument all ready. “You had to have a baby bed, Natalie. Where was Ethan going to sleep? In a drawer?”

  “I don’t know.” Her cheeks flushed. “I was going to make do somehow while I saved up for a secondhand crib. Used baby furniture is pretty easy to find.” She crossed the small room and traced a finger across the polished wood of the crib he’d chosen. “Anyway, this is a lot more than just a baby bed. This stuff is all brand-new, and it looks expensive.” She turned to him and took a careful breath. “It’s just beautiful, Jacob, and I really appreciate all the time you took and everything. But I’m sorry. There’s just no way I can accept this.”

  Time to pull out argument number two. “It’s not for you, though. It’s for Ethan. Call it a belated birthday present.” He smiled at her hopefully, but Natalie’s worried frown remained stubbornly in place.

  “It’s too much.”

  Jacob looked around the nursery again. Okay. Maybe he had gone a little bit overboard.

  After cashing in some of his retirement savings at the bank, he’d driven to the baby store planning to buy one nice, sturdy crib and maybe a rocking chair. Then he’d walked into the bright store crammed with glossy baby things, and he’d decided to get Ethan a little more than that.

  Somehow a little more had turned into a lot more.

  He’d had a few qualms when he’d had to make two trips to haul his purchases back here in the bed of his truck. But somewhere in the back of his mind, there’d been this little flicker of hope that maybe, after everything they’d been through together at the hospital, Natalie wouldn’t think the extravagance of his gift was all that weird. He’d hoped maybe she’d see all the cute airplanes, and the shiny, new furniture, and instead of making her feel uncomfortable, it would make her feel, well, happy.

  He really wanted to make Natalie happy.

  Instead, though, right now she looked a little crumpled. She wore the expression of a woman who’d just been handed a fresh problem on top of everything else she was dealing with. That wasn’t what he’d been shooting for at all.

  She caught him looking at her, and she offered him a tense smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I’m sure starting to understand why everybody in town owes you favors.”

  Ethan stirred and made a fussy noise, and they both turned to look at him. He was squirming in his car seat.

  “He’s hungry, I think,” Natalie said.

  “Probably.” He stood there for another minute before realization kicked in. She needed privacy. “Oh! Okay. I’ll...uh...wait outside.”

  “Good.” She leaned over and began to unfasten the straps around the unhappy baby. “Because you and I need to have a little talk.”

  Jacob shut the nursery door behind him and headed through the kitchen to the backyard. He’d better go outside and coax Rufus back in his pen now because he had a feeling this conversation with Natalie might take a while. Especially when she saw all the food he’d trucked in from Bailey’s and the church’s coffee shop.

  He felt a prickle of apprehension. Natalie had already made it clear how she felt about him butting in to her business, but now he’d overstepped her boundaries again. She was going to want to know why.

  He should probably tell her.

  Chapter Seven

  As soon as Ethan’s tummy was full, he fell asleep again. Natalie laid her baby on the fresh, crisp sheets of the new crib and hung over the rail for a long moment, just watching him. She already loved him so much. In fact, the feeling was so intense and overwhelming that it scared her a little.

  This new nursery scared her a little, too, and for some of the same reasons.

  Like her sleeping son, it seemed too good to be true. She
hadn’t allowed herself to daydream much about pretty baby things she couldn’t possibly afford, but if she’d dreamed up the perfect nursery for her little boy, it would have looked exactly like this.

  And if she’d dreamed up the perfect man, he’d have looked a lot like Pastor Jacob Stone.

  And very little like Adam Larkey.

  Natalie nibbled on the inside of her bottom lip and gave herself a talking-to. Since she’d come to Pine Valley, Jacob had done more for her than anybody else in her whole life. It was perfectly natural for her to be having some warm, fuzzy feelings, especially since Adam still hadn’t replied to her texts.

  But it wasn’t smart.

  It was Jacob’s job to help people, and he was obviously good at it. Why else would everybody around her owe him favors? No matter how it made her feel, none of his kindness was particularly personal.

  She had to watch her step.

  After all, she’d followed her feelings into trouble before. Ethan was proof enough of that. No, you couldn’t trust your feelings.

  And you sure couldn’t assume that when people did nice things, it was because they truly cared about you.

  That was another lesson she’d learned the hard way.

  When she’d been a little girl, a local church had sent a bus to the housing project on Sunday mornings. There was a free breakfast involved, so several of the children, including Natalie, made sure to be on it.

  The pancakes were only part of the attraction, though. The church was warm and clean, and the people were so friendly and didn’t seem to mind that the project kids came wearing ragged T-shirts and jeans. Most of all, Natalie had loved the peaceful quiet of the lofty church sanctuary, the smell of the candles and the fresh flowers. Since the other kids weren’t nearly as interested in the service as they were in the food, Natalie started slipping away to sit by herself in the corner of a pew where she could concentrate on what the grandfatherly looking minister was saying. Natalie thought he must be the kindest, wisest man in the whole world.

  Then one morning, the woman sitting in front of her had fussed to her seatmate about the “trashy housing project children” that the outreach committee insisted on “bussing in.”