A Baby For the Minister Page 16

  “Yeah.” He looked back up at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Nat. It’s just...this whole family thing, it’s just not me, you know? It never was. Darla doesn’t ever want to get married or have any kids either, and she’s got a little money from an uncle who died. The two of us just want to kick back and have a good time.” He shot her another guilty look. “I feel bad about all this, Nat, I really do. I did care about you, and I never wanted to hurt you. But I just can’t change who I am. I guess you think I’m kind of a jerk.”

  Natalie started to agree, then stopped herself. He made a good point.

  Adam had never once pretended to be anything other than what he was, an irresponsible guy looking for an easy life and somebody to have fun with. She was the one who’d let her hopes and her loneliness run away with her, and look where it had gotten them.

  “You know what? It’s all right.” Natalie reached across the table and touched Adam lightly on his arm. She nodded at him, holding his eyes with hers. “No hard feelings. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Adam brightened a little, considering her. “You’ve changed, Nat. You know that? And it’s not just that you’re totally rocking this baby thing. You’re, like...different.”

  She was. She hadn’t fully realized that until now.

  There was a knock on the door. Natalie frowned. “Who could that be?” She stood and settled her drowsy son back into his little fabric seat. He’d probably be sound asleep in a few seconds. “Keep an eye on the baby. I’ll be right back.”

  “Me?” Adam stared at his son with such an expression of horror that Natalie didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

  “I’ll only be a minute.”

  She walked through the living room and opened the door. Jacob was standing on the porch.

  A wave of awareness swept over her like a refreshing breeze. Seeing Jacob’s face after the emotional roller coaster of Adam’s return felt like slipping on comfortable shoes after a long day in pinchy heels. He was wearing his khakis and that rumpled blue shirt with the fraying collar. His hair had flopped over his forehead, and he was standing with most of his weight on his right leg, the way he always did.

  She hadn’t even realized that he did that until now.

  He held a bouquet of daisies and pink roses in one hand, sheathed in green cellophane. The scent of the flowers mingled pleasantly with the spiciness of his soap.

  She glanced down at the flowers and then up into his face. He smiled, and the tiny creases in the corners of his eyes deepened. He held the flowers out to her, and she accepted them automatically.

  “You might as well know up front, those are a bribe. I know it’s short notice, but I want you to have dinner with me. I’ve made reservations over in Fairmont and lined up a babysitter and everything.” His dimples twinkled, and her stomach flipped over. “Not that I wouldn’t enjoy spending some time with Ethan, but I’d kind of like your undivided attention tonight. There’s something I really need to talk to you about. I guess I should have checked with you first, though. It looks like you’ve got company.” He nodded in the direction of Adam’s car. “Anybody I know?”

  “It’s a loaner, bro.” Adam spoke from behind her, and she half turned to find him lounging against the doorway leading into the kitchen. “My old Jeep finally conked out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Adam.” Jacob looked at Natalie’s face. Her cheeks were flushed, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He waited for a minute, but nobody spoke. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”

  “Adam, could you go back into the kitchen with Ethan, please? Jacob and I need to talk.” Natalie stepped out onto the porch and closed the door. “Jacob—”

  “When did he get back?” The question came out before he could stop it.

  “Just now.”

  “Is he staying?”

  “Jacob...” Natalie repeated his name, then stopped. She had a pink shawl thrown over her narrow shoulders. He remembered it. It converted into an infant sling, and the lady at the Baby Superstore had assured him it was the latest thing in baby gear. He hadn’t realized until Natalie had laughed that he should probably have bought the blue one instead. He hadn’t even thought about that; he’d just imagined how pretty Natalie would look in pink.

  He’d been right. The rosy shade reflected color into her creamy cheeks and added warmth to her brown hair. She was wearing it down today, the way he liked best, and it curled loosely over her shoulders.

  One of the ranging chickens squawked in the side yard, jerking Jacob back to the present. He repeated his question. “Is Adam staying?”

  “If you mean here in the house with me, no.” Natalie drew the shawl tighter around herself, even though the spring sun had the old porch so warm that the new lumber was releasing its sweet piney smell. “We’re not married, and that wouldn’t be right.”

  “I’m sorry, Natalie. I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s okay,” she said quickly, but her eyes told him a different story. His clumsy question had hurt her. “I can understand why you’d assume—”

  “I didn’t assume. I just wanted to know if Adam was planning to stay here in town.”

  “He hasn’t told me much about his plans yet. Jacob, did you call Cora Larkey?”

  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the way she asked the question made him feel like he was walking into a minefield. “Yes, I did. I called her when you asked me to look for Adam. I wanted to know if she knew anything that might help us pinpoint his exact location. The Appalachian Trail covers a lot of territory.”

  “Did you ask her for money?”

  “What? No!” He stared at her, brow crinkled. “Of course not. Why?”

  “Well, somebody from your church did. They wanted repayment for what you’ve spent on me.”

  It had to be Digby. Jacob suddenly recalled that remark the banker had tossed off in the meeting about Cora Larkey’s plans to continue supporting Good Shepherd Church. I know for a fact, he’d said.

  Digby knew for a fact because he’d talked to Cora himself. And he’d done more than talk to her, he’d tried to finagle some money out of her, probably so that he could add another expensive curlicue to that horrible fellowship hall he was so determined to build.

  Under false pretenses, at that. None of the money Jacob had spent had come out of the church’s funds. The irritation that Jacob always felt where Digby was concerned escalated into angry disgust, and he felt an overwhelming desire to punch something. Hard.

  “I promise you, I had nothing to do with that, Natalie.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s not my church anymore. I resigned.”

  “What?” Natalie’s eyes widened. “Why? Because of the trouble with that fellowship hall?”

  “That had a lot to do with it.”

  Her eyes searched his worriedly. “It didn’t have anything to do with...what we talked about at the church, did it? Your decision to quit didn’t involve me?”

  Jacob felt a flash of frustration as he struggled with his answer. Of course it involves you. Everything I do, almost every thought I have, involves you now. He couldn’t tell her that. Not with Adam waiting for her back in the house. But he couldn’t lie to her, either.

  So he stayed silent, and her face crumpled. “Oh.”

  “It’s all right, Natalie.”

  “Nat?” Adam’s voice called from inside the house. “Little dude’s squawking, and I think he needs a cleanup. You’d better come here.”

  “I should probably go in.” Natalie’s voice didn’t sound very steady. “Adam doesn’t have a clue about babies.”

  Jacob didn’t want to let her go, not now. Not leaving things like this between them. But he didn’t see that he had much choice. “All right. But we need to talk.”

  The sound of a baby’s fretful wail came from the house, and Natalie looked over her shoulde
r. “I could come to your office, I guess. Tomorrow, maybe?”

  “That’s fine.”

  It was the first time he’d been less than honest with her. He realized that when he was halfway to his truck, when he heard her shut the door behind him.

  Nothing was fine. Not until he knew for certain what Natalie was planning to do.

  * * *

  In his church office the following morning, Jacob was trying to start the process of packing. He figured that was as good a way as any to fill the time until Natalie came by.

  Unfortunately, he was getting nowhere. Arlene stood beside him, her hands on her knobby hips, vibrating with worry. She watched as Jacob picked up a Popsicle stick picture frame and set it in one of the cardboard boxes he’d wheedled out of the supermarket manager.

  Then she took it right back out and replaced it in its spot on the shelf. “This is ridiculous, Jacob.”

  “I’ve already sent in my resignation, Arlene. It’s a done deal.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it, it isn’t. And I’m not the only one, either. Stop with the packing! We’re going to get all this straightened out. A special meeting’s already been called for Wednesday night.”

  Jacob winced. Not another special meeting. That was the last thing he needed right now. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Arlene.”

  “Well, anything’s a better idea than this!” The waver in Arlene’s voice made him glance sharply at her.

  His take-no-prisoners secretary was crying.

  Jacob cast a quick look out the window to see if the world had, in fact, come to an end without him realizing it. Then he took Arlene by the arm and led her to a chair. “Okay, now. Sit down, and let’s talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re not leaving this church, and that’s all there is to it.” Arlene rummaged under the piles of paper on his desk until she found a half-squashed tissue box. She plucked one square out and blew her nose like a trumpet. “It’s all the dust you’re stirring up in here,” she explained irritably, not looking him in the eye. “It aggravates my sinuses.”

  “I know it does.”

  “We’ll fix this, Jacob. We will. We just need a little time.” Arlene sniffled. “This church is a family. You’ve always said that.”

  “And I meant it, Arlene.” He sighed. “But you know what else I’ve always said? That I’d stay here in Pine Valley unless God gave me new marching orders.”

  “Yes, yes, and I’ve also heard your sermon about how God can answer our prayers in ways we don’t expect, so you needn’t recap that for me now, either. That’s all well and good, but I have to say, I really don’t see much of the Lord in this, Jacob. What I do see is way too much Digby Markham.” Arlene flung her crumpled tissue into the trash and got to her feet. “And he’s not God, no matter what he may think to the contrary. Now, I’ve got some phone calls to make, but don’t you pack one more thing in those boxes, do you hear me? Although it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if some of this stuff found its way into the garbage. It sure would make dusting in here a sight easier. I don’t see why you want to keep all that silly clutter, anyway.”

  Left alone in his office, Jacob studied the shelf in question, crammed full of lopsided Sunday school creations given to him over the years by a horde of small children.

  Children who already had families of their own, and for whom good old Pastor Jacob was mostly a see-you-at-church-next-week kind of a relationship.

  A three-legged turtle kind of relationship.

  Maybe Arlene had a point. Maybe there wasn’t much on that shelf worth carrying with him when he left.

  Because maybe—hopefully—depending on what Natalie had to say today, he might be needing room for a four-legged turtle or two.

  The force of the hope that hit him alongside that thought startled him. He only knew one safe place to take feelings that strong. He closed his eyes.

  Lord, You hold my life in Your hands. Whatever happens with this church and with Natalie, help me work this out in a way that honors You. But, Lord, if it’s all the same to You, please...

  “Jacob? Is this a good time?”

  Natalie was standing in the doorway of his office, twisting her fingers together nervously. There was a stunned look on her face, and he winced.

  “You ran into Arlene on your way in.” He didn’t bother to make it a question. He knew that look. He’d seen it on people’s faces before.

  Frequently.

  “Yes. She seems pretty upset about your resignation, Jacob. Are you sure...really sure this is the right thing for you to do?” Her gaze wandered over to the empty boxes he’d lined up against one wall.

  She was alone, he realized. “Where’s Ethan?”

  “I stopped in at Bailey’s to drop off the blueberries, and she babynapped him.” Natalie smiled briefly. “I’m not used to being away from him. It feels weird, like I misplaced him or something.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Pretty good. Well, he’s been really fussy this morning, but you know what?” Warmth sparkled into her eyes. “He actually laughed the other day. I was blowing raspberries on his tummy, and he laughed.”

  Jacob nodded. He was listening to her. He was. He was picturing the scene, a sweet milestone moment with Ethan that he was really sorry he’d missed out on. But he was also looking at her hair, drawn up into a high ponytail today. Pulled back so sternly, it emphasized the delicate lines of her face, bringing out an aspect of her quiet beauty that he’d never seen before.

  He wouldn’t have thought that was even possible.

  But it was.

  “Here.” He gestured toward the chair Arlene had just vacated. “Sit down, and we’ll talk.”

  She shook her head and stayed where she was. “That’s all right. This isn’t going to take very long.”

  And right then, he knew. The answer she was bringing him wasn’t the one he’d been hoping for.

  “You’re moving back to Atlanta.”

  Natalie swallowed hard, then nodded, miserably. “I think it’s the best thing to do.”

  Jacob’s heart sank. A thousand arguments came into his mind, and he squelched them resolutely. But there was one thing he had to say. “I know how much you wanted things to work out with Adam, Natalie. But are you sure about this? He doesn’t exactly have the most dependable track record where you and Ethan are concerned.”

  “Adam?” She blinked at him. “Adam has nothing to do with this. He left yesterday not long after you did. I have no idea where he went, or if we’ll ever see him again, to be honest. He said he’d stay in touch, but...” She trailed off with a sad little shrug. “I know how Adam is. If we ever do hear from him, it’ll probably be because he needs something.”

  Now it was Jacob’s turn to blink. If Adam was gone for good... “Why are you leaving then? Have you thought about what we talked about?” He crossed the room, filled with an urgency to make her see, to make her feel what he felt.

  The only problem was, he didn’t have a clue how to do that.

  * * *

  Natalie took a small careful step backward as Jacob approached. She couldn’t let him get close, couldn’t smell that heart-tugging spicy scent of his. She had to keep her wits about her if she was going to get through this.

  “Yes, of course I’ve thought about it.” She hesitated. How could she make him understand? “You were right about what you said a minute ago, you know? I did want things to work out with Adam. I wanted Ethan to know his father, to have a real family, like I never did. But Adam just isn’t cut out for the kind of life I’m hoping for.”

  “Adam’s not the only man in the world, Natalie.”

  This was even harder than she thought it was going to be. More than anything else right now, she wanted to believe what Jacob believed, that this could work out. That somehow, some way,
this could be right. For both of them.

  But the last time she’d felt like this, she’d followed a pretty dream right into disaster. And her heart wasn’t the only one on the line here.

  So she shook her head. “Remember what you told me once? About how God answers prayers, but not always the way we want? Well, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad that Adam climbed out of that church window. Because if we’d gotten married, the whole thing would have been a disaster. Adam and I want very different things. And if you and I...” She paused, struggling to find the right words. After all, Jacob had never actually proposed to her. “...tried to be more than friends, it wouldn’t work out any better.”

  He was shaking his head. “I’m not like Adam, Natalie. I want a family.”

  “I know. But that’s not all you want, is it? Jacob, you might leave this church, although I’m not a bit sure that’s really what you need to do, or even what you really want to do, for that matter. I think maybe you’re letting your feelings about things cloud your judgment right now. Trust me, I know a little something about that. But even if you do leave, there’ll always be another church. Won’t there?” she asked, almost hoping she was wrong about the answer he’d have to give her.

  She could see in his face that he was catching on to where she was leading him. He didn’t like it, but he wouldn’t lie to her. She saw the truth in his eyes even before he answered. “Yes. For me...yes. Always. I’m a minister, Natalie. I can’t—”

  “Change who you are.” She finished the sentence for him. “Not even for somebody you care about. Neither could Adam. And neither can I. Your life is always going to revolve around church. Your work won’t just be a part of your life. It’ll be the focus of it. That’s who you are, Jacob. You never do anything halfway.” She gave him a shaky smile. “I should know. So whoever you...choose to share that life with needs to feel the same way you do about your ministry, and I don’t.”

  “You’ve had some bad experiences, sure. But I promise you, when you find the right congregation, it’s different. It’s almost like—”