A Baby For the Minister

by Laurel Blount

  “The minister doesn’t like it any more than we do. In fact, he’s stopped his own grandchildren from attending Sunday school because they contracted lice from one of those dirty kids. But he says his hands are tied because taking care of poor people is the duty of the church, whether we want them here or not.”

  Natalie had climbed back on the project bus that afternoon with a lowered head and stinging cheeks. It had taken ten years and an unexpected pregnancy to get her under the roof of a church again.

  As it turned out, she should have learned her lesson the first time. And she certainly couldn’t afford to forget it now.

  There was way too much at stake.

  When she came in the kitchen, Jacob was sitting at the table, scrolling through messages on his phone. He rose to his feet and slipped the device into his pocket.

  “Well, I put Rufus back in. No telling how long he’ll stay there, though. Here.” He retrieved a glass of milk from the refrigerator, placing it on the table alongside a plate containing red grapes and a big wedge of cheese. “The nurses said you should eat lots of calcium. I’m not much of a cook, but I do snacks like a boss.” He pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”

  He’d softened the wooden seat with a plump red cushion. A yellow price tag still dangled from one corner.

  Her heart melted, but she had to stick to her guns. “I need to talk to you, Jacob.”

  “You can talk sitting down.” He patted the back of the chair invitingly before settling back into his own.

  She hesitated. She felt more in charge of herself standing up. But she also felt awkward and a little unsteady.

  She sat.

  “Okay.” He nudged the plate an inch closer to her. “Let’s talk.”

  Natalie broke off a bit of cheese and put it in her mouth to buy some time. She had no idea how she could say what she had to say without seeming rude.

  Jacob broke the silence. “Look, I know I blindsided you with the porch and the nursery. I guess I owe you an explanation. I really don’t want you to misunderstand why—”

  Oh no. She felt her cheeks heating up. Had she been that obvious? She’d thought she’d kept those ridiculous flutters well hidden. “That’s okay,” she interrupted him. “I know this isn’t personal. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed too emotional about...everything.”

  She darted an embarrassed glance at him. He was frowning at her. “I’m not sure what you mean. And this may not be personal for you, but it’s pretty personal for me. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  Natalie hadn’t known that a person could be so hot and so cold at the same time. Her cheeks were burning, but her arms had goose bumps.

  What did he mean this was personal?

  “I never planned to be a minister.” He cleared his throat. “Back in college I had my sights set on being a football star. I always tell people that God had to tackle me to get my attention, and He used a linebacker from Miami to do it.” A smile flickered briefly. “Blew out my knee. It was my junior year of college. I argued with God for two more years, but He won out in the end. I was twenty-two when I became a Christian.” He paused, lifted his chin and looked her straight in the eye. “My daughter was born when I was nineteen.”

  The old refrigerator chugged loudly behind him, and static crackled from the baby monitor she’d placed on the table, but the kitchen seemed suddenly very quiet. Jacob held her stunned gaze with his.

  “You have a daughter?”

  “Yes. And no.” He hesitated, then laughed shortly. “Wow, I haven’t told this story in a long time. It’s harder than I thought.”

  “It’s okay.” So that was why he’d never acted judgmental about her predicament. Because he’d been through this, too. Impulsively, Natalie reached across the table and covered his hand lightly with her own. “Take your time.”

  “My girlfriend...her name was Carrie...found out she was pregnant during our freshman year in college. Like I said, I wasn’t a believer back then, and neither was she. We were both really young. We talked about a lot of options, but in the end, we gave the baby up for adoption the day she was born.”

  “Oh.” Natalie released his hand and sat back in her chair. “Do you see her?”

  “No. It’s a closed adoption. At the time, we both thought that was the best idea. Now I think it would’ve been better if there was some way I could have...been there for my little girl if she ever needed me. So if I’ve been a little pushy about helping you and Ethan while Adam’s away, that’s why. Because I hope that somewhere, some other guy is being there for my daughter. I hope you can understand.”

  Natalie nodded slowly. “I think I do.”

  “I guess it’s normal to wonder, you know? What kind of life she has now, if she’s happy. Things like that.”

  He looked so wistful that her resolve wavered. She tried to imagine what she’d feel like if Ethan was with another family, and she didn’t know anything about him.

  Awful. It would feel awful.

  “You could check with the adoption agency.” When he looked at her, she dropped her eyes and studied her fingernails. “When I first found out I was pregnant, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. So I went and talked to an agency in Atlanta. They were really nice, but I decided there was just no way I could...” She stopped and darted a glance at him. “Anyway, they had a deal where the adoptive family sent in updates every year until the child turned eighteen. The birth parents could see those if they wanted to, even if the adoption was closed. Maybe the agency you used does something like that, too.”

  “I don’t know.” He sounded interested. “But I can check into it. That’s a good idea, Natalie. Thanks. And seriously, thanks for allowing me to butt in to your life. I hope you’ll keep on letting me help out, until Adam comes back.” He hesitated. “Have you...heard anything from him?”

  “Not yet.” The little tickle of uncertainty she’d been pushing away popped up front and center. She’d texted Adam several times since Ethan’s birth. She’d even sent him pictures of his son, but the only response had been dead silence. “I’m not sure if he’s getting the messages.”

  “He may not be. Lots of things can happen on a hiking trip. His phone could be dead or broken, or he might be in some place without a signal. If that’s the problem, he’ll contact you when he gets back to civilization.”

  “Maybe. There’s no telling with Adam.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll just have to manage until he turns back up.”

  Jacob reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I’d like to help with that, if you’ll still let me. And don’t worry.” He flashed a boyish grin. “I promise I’ll behave from here on out. I won’t buy Ethan a pony or a sports car or anything.”

  Natalie hesitated. This might not be a good idea. Jacob’s touch was making her insides flutter a little too much for jumbled hormones to be the only reason.

  “I guess that would be all right,” she heard herself saying.

  “Thanks.” This time, the warmth of his smile went right up into his sea-blue eyes. She felt her battered heart flip over and fluff up like a freshly turned pancake.

  No, she realized, just a few seconds too late. Spending more time with Jacob Stone was definitely not a good idea.

  Chapter Eight

  A week and a half later, at exactly 6:45 a.m., Jacob was on the back porch of the Lark Hill farmhouse having a standoff with a goat. Rufus had his two front hooves on the bottom step and a hopeful expression on his face.

  “You know you’re not allowed in the house, Rufus. Shoo. Go back to your pen.”

  The goat snorted at him and tossed his head, flopping his curly topknot. The animal made a quick move to the right, but Jacob blocked him.

  “Nope.” The animal tilted his head winningly and batted his eyes. “Nice try, but still no. Ethan’s about to go back to sleep, and you’re staying outsid
e. In your pen.”

  The goat made a disgusted noise. He eyed his opponent thoughtfully for a second or two, then attempted a death-or-glory charge up the steps. Jacob snagged him by the collar just as he reached the screened door.

  “Gotcha!” He manhandled the protesting goat back down the steps and led him in the direction of his pen.

  He and Rufus had tussled several times, but lately the animal was making even more of a nuisance of himself than usual. When Jacob had arrived at Lark Hill fifteen minutes ago, he’d found the goat on the back porch, nibbling on the doorknob.

  Deep down, Jacob felt a sneaking sympathy for the old rascal. After all, he was doing pretty much the same thing himself. The only difference was, Natalie actually allowed him in the house.

  So far, anyway. He worried he was on the brink of wearing out his welcome, but he just couldn’t seem to stay away.

  He’d arrived this morning around six thirty, the earliest time he’d clocked in yet. To make matters worse, he hadn’t left last night until nearly 10:00 p.m. But he couldn’t help that; Natalie’s clothes dryer had been acting up, and it had taken him that long to figure out how to fix it.

  Of course, repairing the dryer probably could have waited, and taking the thing apart at eight thirty last night hadn’t been the best idea. But when Natalie had turned it on, and he’d heard the rattle, he’d overridden her protests and hauled his tools in from his truck. He’d heard of malfunctioning dryers causing house fires, and he wanted to make sure the old appliance was safe.

  He’d also been glad for the excuse to hang around Lark Hill a little longer. He didn’t like leaving Natalie and Ethan out here alone at night, especially since her car wasn’t ready yet. Mike had needed to order a part, and though the mechanic had been apologetic about the delay, there’d been no way around it.

  Besides, Jacob liked tinkering around the old farmhouse, hearing snatches of whatever song Natalie happened to be humming at the moment and the little baby noises Ethan had started to make. He liked shouldering through the kitchen doorway with his arms full of grocery bags, seeing Natalie’s face light up at the little treats he brought her, something she only allowed because more often than not, he just happened to be hanging around Lark Hill at suppertime.

  That wasn’t quite as accidental as he made it seem.

  The truth was, he loved sitting at the old kitchen table as it slowly grew dark outside. He’d jam a knee against its wonky leg so it wouldn’t wobble too much and nestle Ethan in the crook of his arm, insisting that Natalie eat the simple meal she’d prepared while it was still hot. Natalie fretted about Jacob’s food going cold, but he honestly couldn’t have cared less if it did.

  He wasn’t eating alone. That was all that mattered to him.

  These evenings were welcome bits of peace for him, given that the church situation had only gotten worse. In spite of his prayers for guidance, God seemed to have him in some kind of holding pattern. So for now, he was fidgeting through Digby’s endless meetings, cringing as the fellowship hall plans grew more and more grandiose and further out of step with his own convictions.

  He’d have exploded by now if he hadn’t had these evenings with Natalie and Ethan to look forward to. He knew it was wrong to be glad that Adam still hadn’t turned up, but he couldn’t help it.

  In fact, the one and only thing he didn’t much like about this arrangement he had with Natalie was that it could end at any moment.

  But it hadn’t ended yet, and right now he had a goat to deal with.

  Jacob shut Rufus in his shed and walked out to inspect the fence. He’d have to figure out where the goat had escaped this time and fix it. Not that it would do much good. Rufus was living up to his reputation, and the animal spent more time outside his pen than in it.

  Jacob glanced at his watch. If he started working on the fence now, he’d have to go home and clean up afterward. That meant he’d be late getting to the church. Still, Rufus couldn’t stay shut up in his shed for very long, and he sure couldn’t run loose all day. He’d aggravate Natalie to death.

  Jacob headed toward his truck, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. He’d fix the pen and be late. He’d better let Arlene know.

  His secretary picked up on the second ring and didn’t wait for him to speak. “I know, I know. You’re going to be late. Again.”

  “Not very.”

  Arlene’s sigh gusted through the phone so loudly he could almost smell her wintergreen breath mints. “This is the third time you’ve run late this week, and you’ve left early twice. This isn’t like you, Jacob. You’re worrying me.”

  “Relax. I’ll make Digby’s ten o’clock meeting with the architect.” The third architect they’d talked to. So far. And from the look of his embossed business card, the most expensive one yet.

  “I’m not worried about Digby! I could cheerfully strangle that man. Him and his horrible meetings! He’s the reason you’ve gone all squirrelly. I just know it. Now, you tell me the truth. Have you decided to resign? Are you going to job interviews? Is that why you’re out of the office so much?”

  His secretary’s voice quavered a little on the question, and Jacob felt a twinge of regret. Arlene might be crusty and outspoken, but she was also a faithful friend and coworker.

  He owed her the truth.

  “I’m not going to job interviews.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “Not yet, anyway, and I hope it won’t come to that. I’m still praying about it.”

  “So am I, believe me.” Arlene sounded grim. “But if you’re not out looking for another job, then where are you spending all your time?”

  Jacob reached for the metal box of tools he kept stashed in the cab of his truck. “I’ll see you at ten, Arlene.”

  “So, it’s true, then.” Something in Arlene’s tone snapped Jacob to attention. Unfortunately, he hadn’t snapped the latches on the toolbox after working on the dryer, and it opened, spilling its contents in, around and under the truck.

  Great.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m kind of busy right now, Arlene.”

  “You’re out there helping that Good Shepherd bride, aren’t you? I’ve been hearing some talk, but you hadn’t said anything, so I thought it was just gossip. This isn’t good, Jacob. If Digby finds out...”

  “What I do with my personal time is none of Digby’s business.”

  “He’s not going to see it that way, and you know it.”

  “Natalie had nobody to turn to, Arlene, and she needed help. Any church that won’t step up in a situation like that has something seriously wrong with it.” He knelt down and peered beneath the truck. Two screwdrivers had rolled so far under there that he was going to have to lie flat on the ground to reach them.

  Good thing he was already planning to change clothes.

  “But the church didn’t step up, did it? You did.” Arlene paused. “You took all that time off work, and you’ve been so preoccupied lately. I thought you must have some kind of digestion problem from those dreadful microwave burritos you’re so fond of, but now... Jacob, tell me the truth. How personal is this personal time you’ve been taking, exactly?”

  Jacob clenched his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, inching his fingers across the damp grass toward the runaway tools. “I’m not romantically involved with Natalie Davis, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

  But I’d like to be.

  The thought came out of nowhere, along with a flood of longing that slammed him squarely in his gut. The feeling was so sharp and so painful that he jerked upward, banging his head hard against the underside of the truck cab.

  Abandoning the screwdrivers, he slid out from under the vehicle and sat up slowly, rubbing his head. He was stunned in a way that had nothing to do with the blow he’d just taken. He reached for the phone he’d dropped and held it back
to his ear.

  Arlene was still talking. “...why you hadn’t brought her to church, but of course, with her just getting over having the baby and all, I suppose it makes sense. But you really do need to watch your step, Jacob. Digby’s nephew—”

  Digby’s nephew was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. “I’m hanging up, Arlene.”

  He dropped his phone back into his shirt pocket and rubbed his aching head.

  “Are you all right?”

  He looked up. Natalie was standing on the back doorstep, dressed in her baggy maternity smock, her face crumpled in concern. She hurried over to where he was sitting dazedly on his heels. Laying her hand lightly on top of his head, she ruffled his hair as she checked his scalp. “That looked like it hurt. Are you bleeding? Do you need some ice?”

  The feel of her small hand in his hair wasn’t helping with the crazy feelings churning around inside him, but he couldn’t seem to move away. “No. I’m fine.”

  “What were you doing under there, anyway?” Her hand lifted, and the fog in Jacob’s brain cleared a little.

  “Getting ready to fix Rufus’s fence again.” He focused on chucking the gathered tools back into the toolbox one by one. “Houdini was on the back steps when I got here. How’s Ethan this morning?”

  “Asleep.” Natalie showed him the baby monitor in her hand. “Finally. He was up a lot last night. Are you sure you have time to do this now? Won’t it make you late getting to the church?”

  “Not much. I’ll just give the latest escape route a quick patch job and head on over there.” He hesitated, remembering what Arlene had said just now, about him not giving the church a chance to step in.

  Why hadn’t he invited Natalie to Pine Valley Community? Usually that was the second sentence out of his mouth after he met people. But with Natalie, he hadn’t even brought it up, and he wasn’t sure why.

  Better late than never, though.

  “Speaking of church, I’d really like you to meet the members of my congregation. How about going with me this Sunday?”