A Baby For the Minister Page 11

  “I hate for you to miss the Mother’s Day service on my account,” Natalie had hedged, hovering nervously as the old lady settled herself and Ethan into the creaking chair.

  “Oh, I won’t miss a thing.” She’d patted a square black box on the table beside her. “Pastor Jacob takes better care of me than that. This gizmo right here broadcasts the whole service.” She lifted up an earbud with one gnarled finger. “I slip this little thingamabob in my ear, and I can turn it up as loud as I want. Now get on with you, and like I said, don’t you worry a bit. I’m an old hand at babies. Had six of my own, then I was blessed with ten grandchildren. I’ve already lost count of my great-grands.”

  There wasn’t any reasonable argument she could make in the face of that kind of maternal experience. Natalie had glanced up into Jacob’s face and caught a glimmer of triumphant amusement lurking in his eyes. She’d been outmaneuvered.

  She paused outside a closed door with a sign reading Pastor’s Office. She liked how everything in this building seemed to be neatly labeled, making it easier for a newcomer to find her way around. She opened the door and sure enough, there was the church secretary’s prim desk with its neatly aligned stacks of folders.

  The door to Jacob’s private office was shut. Natalie crossed the small room and hesitated. Should she knock? Probably not. Then Mrs. Pruitt would just have to get up out of the chair to open the door. Better to just go on in. As Natalie put her hand on the doorknob, she heard the elderly babysitter’s wavering voice.

  “Calm down, Arlene. You’ll wake the baby.”

  “How can I calm down?” a sharper voice demanded. “I’m telling you, this is a complete disaster.”

  “Well now, I don’t see why everybody has their feathers so ruffled. She seems perfectly sweet to me, and this little fellow is just precious. I think it’s lovely that Pastor Jacob has finally found himself somebody special to dote on.”

  “He’s not doting on her. It’s not like that at all! I have it straight from Jacob’s own lips that there’s nothing romantic going on. This whole thing is nothing but another one of his Good Samaritan projects. If a church won’t step up in a situation like that, what good is it? Those are almost his exact words. I know he wants to make a point with the church board about the foolishness of building the fellowship hall right now. You know, pointing out the needy folks around us, and all of that. But taking that girl down to the pastor’s family pew, in front of everybody? He might as well have spit in Digby Markham’s face. It’s asking for trouble, that’s what, and more trouble’s the last thing we need right now. I could just wring his neck.”

  Suddenly, the brass doorknob turned under Natalie’s hand. She had just enough time to step back before the door swung open.

  A tall iron-haired lady with vivid fuchsia lipstick paused awkwardly on the threshold. “Ah. Hello. You must be...”

  “Natalie Davis.” Her voice sounded strained, but at least she managed to keep it from shaking. “I’m here to get my baby.”

  “He’s right here, the little darling.” Beth Pruitt smiled from her chair, but she darted worried glances between Natalie and Arlene. “He didn’t make a peep the whole time. Slept right through.”

  Natalie edged past Arlene into the office. Ethan seemed blissfully unaware of the tension in the small room, but Natalie felt an overwhelming urge to snatch him up and run.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you Miss Davis?” A male voice spoke behind her. She turned with Ethan in her arms to see a man standing in the doorway. “The preacher said I’d find you in here. I’m Mike. I own the garage in town, and I wanted to let you know that your car’s ready. Pastor Jacob said you needed it just as soon as it was safe to drive so I’ve patched it together as best I can. But I have to be honest with you, you’d probably better start shopping around for a new one. This one’s on its last legs. I can drive you over to the garage to pick it up now, unless—” he paused, glancing at the three women “—you have something you need to finish up in here.”

  “No,” Natalie assured him, feeling Arlene’s gaze on her. “I’m all done here.”

  That might just be the understatement of the century.

  She turned to Beth Pruitt. “Thanks for watching Ethan.”

  The old lady looked troubled. “Aw, honey, you’re more than welcome. I’ll be here next Sunday, ready to rock that sweet boy again, if you’d like.”

  Natalie smiled politely, but she didn’t answer. She already knew she wouldn’t be back at this church next Sunday.

  Or any other Sunday for that matter.

  Carrying her baby, she edged past Arlene through the doorway. Arlene cleared her throat as if she were about to say something, but Natalie quickly averted her eyes and hurried down the hall after Mike.

  Jacob was standing in the arched doorway of the church, smiling and shaking hands with a winding line of church members. Mike sidled through the people waiting in line, and Natalie followed him, murmuring apologies to the people she brushed against. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she was careful not to look in Jacob’s direction.

  She should never have come. She’d known better. But Jacob had been so persuasive...

  Maybe because Arlene was right. Because he wanted to use her to prove some kind of point to his congregation.

  “Natalie? How’d Ethan do? Did Mike tell you about the car?” She winced as Jacob spoke from the head of the line, pitching his voice to carry over the babble of voices. The murmuring died down instantly, and the little foyer of the church was hushed and expectant as curious heads swiveled in her direction.

  Natalie forced herself to smile. “Ethan did fine, Pastor Stone. Thanks for arranging the sitter for me. Mike and I are going to pick my car up right now, so you won’t need to give us a ride back home.”

  She caught a quick glimpse of the surprise clouding Jacob’s expression as she slipped past him and out into the parking lot.

  Mike was already in the process of transferring Ethan’s car seat from Jacob’s truck into his own. Natalie stood on the sidewalk, her artificial smile painfully in place, watching him wrestle with the contraption.

  Hurry up. Please hurry up. She needed to get out of here before Jacob could tear himself away from his congregation and come after her.

  A picture of him flashed through her mind, his face alight in an easy grin, dimples denting in his cheeks, golden hair all tousled because he was forever running his hands through it. There was the way he’d opened doors for her and steadied her arm when they walked together. And the way he’d looked at her just now in this beautiful church. Her stomach constricted into a quivering knot.

  None of that meant anything.

  How on earth could she have been so stupid? Had she learned nothing from the mess she’d gotten herself into with Adam?

  But no, she’d done it again. Ignored all the warning signs and followed her silly hopes right into trouble.

  Well, she’d remember the lessons this time. She wouldn’t give up on God. She couldn’t. She needed her faith now more than ever. But church, well, church obviously wasn’t for her.

  And neither was Jacob.

  Mike snapped the car seat into his own truck in the nick of time. Natalie gently arranged the straps over her sleepy baby. She climbed in beside Ethan, just as Jacob detached himself from the crowd and walked out into the parking lot.

  She could see him in the side mirror of the mechanic’s truck. Seemingly unaware of the whispering crowd behind him, he pulled out his cell phone. Quickly, Natalie took her own out of her purse and powered it down. As Mike turned his truck onto the street, Natalie watched Jacob slide out of the mirror’s reflection.

  Then she deliberately turned her gaze to the road ahead.

  * * *

  She was beautiful.

  Jacob studied the picture of the little girl on his computer screen. He’d been sitting here for
the past hour scrolling repeatedly through the five photos the adoption agency had emailed him.

  She had Carrie’s dark hair, but her eyes were blue like his. She’d also inherited his dimples, which was easy to see because she was smiling in every single picture.

  After he’d gotten past the emotional jolt of seeing his daughter’s face for the first time, he had scrutinized the background of the photos, searching for clues about her life.

  He saw a well-kept lawn and a big, goofy dog. The comfortable-looking house had just the right amount of child-friendly disorder. He caught glimpses of artwork posted on a refrigerator and a plump backpack with initials embroidered in pink thread. EML.

  The pictures gave tantalizing hints but left him with some unanswered questions. Where exactly was she living? How did she do in school? Did she hate math as much as he had? What name did those initials stand for?

  He pushed aside the pain of not knowing all the answers. He knew the most important one.

  His daughter was doing just fine without him.

  That should have made him feel better. And it did. Sort of. But a shadow of sadness dogged his relief.

  This little girl was obviously happy, healthy and loved. She had a wonderful life.

  He just wasn’t a part of it.

  He remembered praying the night Carrie had told him about her pregnancy. It was the first prayer he’d prayed since before he’d hit puberty, and he’d fumbled it badly. But the gist of it had been solid enough. I know we messed up. Help us fix it. And if somebody has to get hurt here, if somebody has to take the hit for this, please let it be me, God. Not Carrie. Not the baby. Me.

  He didn’t doubt that God had heard him. That long night had begun the slow turn back to the faith his parents had tried to instill in him, a change that had gone deeper and further than a guilt-stricken college quarterback could ever have imagined.

  In the end, God had worked all things for good, just as He promised to do.

  His little girl had a good family. Last he’d heard, Carrie was happily married and moving on with her life. And he’d found more purpose in his calling as a minister than he ever would have playing professional football.

  But right now, sitting alone here at his cluttered desk, wondering what his daughter’s favorite food was, or what color she liked best, or what her name was, for crying out loud, Jacob was taking the hit.

  The phone rang, distracting him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen, hoping it was Natalie. It wasn’t. Why was Bailey Quinn calling him in the middle of a busy Monday morning?

  Thirty seconds later, he leaned back in his office chair, frowning at the overcrowded bookshelf that Arlene was always nagging him to straighten up. “Natalie did what?”

  “Asked me about selling some of her produce here.” Bailey’s answer came clearly through the line. “She came in first thing this morning, baby in tow.”

  Natalie must have reached some sort of decision yesterday after she’d left church with Mike to pick up her car. They’d only had one brief conversation since. He’d called her, but she hadn’t seemed to want to talk. She’d told him she was planning to run some errands in town this morning and wouldn’t be at home, so he shouldn’t stop by.

  Now he almost wished he hadn’t badgered Mike so much about getting those repairs done.

  “What’s she planning to sell? There’s nothing out at Lark Hill except for Rufus, and nobody in his right mind would give her a nickel for him.”

  Bailey’s chuckle rippled in his ear. “I sure wouldn’t. No, I’m buying some of her blueberries. We worked it all out.”

  “Blueberries?” He searched his memory. “What blueberries?”

  Bailey sighed. “All the time you’ve been spending out there, and you didn’t notice? Lark Hill’s lousy with blueberries, and not just any old blueberries either, city boy. Edgar Larkey spent a mint on those heirloom bushes in the back field, but they’ve been going to waste ever since he died. They’re an early variety, so they’re just about to ripen. I’ve put in a standing order.”

  “I see.” Jacob frowned. He wasn’t as much of a city boy as Bailey imagined. He’d picked his share of berries as a kid, and it was slow, tedious work. He didn’t see how Natalie could possibly manage to pick the volume of berries Bailey would want, and he didn’t much like the idea of her trying.

  “Natalie also asked me about working here part-time. I’m pretty much a one-woman operation at this point, so I sent her over to the church coffee shop. Now that Emily’s expecting, I figured Grounds of Faith might be looking for some temporary help.”

  “You’re probably right about that.” Although what Natalie would do with Ethan while she did all this was a good question. Blueberry picking, waitressing and taking care of a brand-new baby, too? What on earth was she thinking?

  “Anyway, I thought I’d give you a heads-up. I figured you’d want to know, given how...involved you’ve been with her situation.”

  “Thanks.” Jacob frowned. Bailey seemed to be picking her words carefully. That was unusual.

  “And, Jacob? Natalie also mentioned something about leaving Pine Valley.”

  Leaving. His heart thumped hard in his chest. That did it. He and Natalie needed to talk, the sooner the better.

  “Thanks, Bailey.”

  “What was that all about?” Arlene spoke from the doorway just as Jacob ended the call.

  Arlene’s eavesdropping habit was something they’d discussed more than once, but he didn’t have time to reopen that touchy subject right now. He wanted to catch Natalie at Grounds of Faith.

  “Coffee shop business,” he replied shortly, standing up. “I’m headed there now.”

  “Does this have something to do with that Davis girl?”

  Jacob met Arlene’s worried frown head-on. “As a matter of fact, it does. Why?”

  “Because, Jacob, you need to be careful. Digby’s already gotten his way about the fellowship hall, and there’s still his nephew to worry about. Digby would just love to see you out on your ear, and you know it.”

  “I don’t see what all that has to do with Natalie.”

  Arlene twisted her fingers together, for once apparently at a loss for words. “All I’m saying is that you should let things settle down a bit, that’s all. You can help the girl, of course. But you don’t need to make such a show of it, not right now, when Digby wants your attention on the fellowship hall plans. If you keep on, you’re just going to throw gasoline on this fire, and that’s the last thing we need. From what I’ve heard, Good Shepherd is already gossiping about us. And for once, I’m tempted to agree with them. All this fussing going on in a church is...unseemly.”

  In spite of everything, the old-fashioned word and the way Arlene’s lips pursed up as she said it had Jacob fighting back a grin. Arlene’s face had worn the exact same expression once during Vacation Bible School. She’d put her hand in the pocket of little Tommy Anderson’s raincoat, expecting to confiscate some smuggled candies. Instead, she’d drawn out an extremely dead lizard.

  Apparently, deceased reptiles were unseemly, too.

  “I’ll be back in an hour, Arlene. And I’ll bring you back a banana nut muffin and some coffee. Decaf, though. You’re too uptight today.”

  Arlene’s frustrated sigh echoed behind him as he headed down the hallway.

  Chapter Ten

  Normally, Jacob walked the short distance to Grounds of Faith, but he was in a hurry today, so he drove his truck. It was a typical Monday morning, and Pine Valley’s downtown square bustled with gentle traffic. Natalie’s car was parked just outside the coffee shop’s door, and he breathed a prayer of thanks as he pulled in behind it. He hadn’t missed her.

  The little brass bell on the door jingled cheerily as he entered, and the warm, comforting scents of coffee and cinnamon teased his nose. Grounds of Faith was just finishing up its e
arly-morning rush. About half the tables were filled with customers finishing their coffees, and Jacob noticed that several of them had this week’s Bible study leaflet open on their tables. Stacking those by the cash register had been a good idea.

  This whole coffee shop ministry had been a good idea. It had met some resistance at first, but now almost everybody had come around. In fact, some of the shop’s most outspoken critics were regular customers.

  A lot of the credit went to Emily Whitlock. Her arrival in Pine Valley nearly two years ago had been an unmistakable answer to prayer. Her muffins and pastries were nothing short of incredible, and he was grateful that quiet farmer Abel Whitlock had managed to convince Emily to settle down on Goosefeather Farm permanently.

  Emily appeared in the open doorway leading to the kitchen area just as he approached the counter. Her face lit up in a welcoming smile, but Jacob’s attention zeroed in on Natalie, who was following just behind carrying Ethan.

  Natalie was smiling, too, that rare, real smile of hers that warmed her brown eyes. She was wearing one of the outfits he’d given her, and she had her hair pulled up into a loose knot.

  For a second, all rational thought left his brain. She looked so sweet standing there with that happy sparkle in her eye and her baby cuddled in her arms.

  A jolt of longing hit him. He hadn’t seen the two of them since yesterday afternoon, and it had been too long. He’d missed them, both of them.

  Natalie’s eyes met his. He watched the smile fade from her face, replaced by a wary watchfulness. Jacob’s instincts stirred.

  Something was wrong.

  “Hi, Jacob. Making your morning coffee run?” He heard amusement in Emily’s voice. She was looking from Natalie’s face to his, a smile playing around her lips. “You’re a little early, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have my usual, please. Bag up a banana muffin and a cup of coffee for Arlene, too. But she wants decaf today.”