A Baby For The Minister. Laurel Blount

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СКАЧАТЬ her long-standing policy and written it down on a napkin.

      Back then, she hadn’t had her faith to steady her, and she’d fallen for Adam too hard and too fast, blindly assuming that his feelings were keeping pace with hers. The situation they were in now was every bit as much her fault as his.

      “All right,” she heard herself agreeing. “Two weeks.”

      “Awesome.” A hint of the joy she remembered was in the word. “Nana Cora said you were going to wait on the farm. I left some food in the kitchen. Oh! I...uh...meant to clean that up, by the way. And there’s a goat out back. Some guy gave him to me for free, along with four bags of chow. He even threw in a few chickens... Look, Gary’s calling me. We’re planning to hit the trail first thing in the morning, so I’ve got to go. See you in two weeks, Nat.”

      “Adam—” Natalie began, but he’d already hung up.

      She sat there, holding the silent phone in her hand. So that was that. She was officially on her own for the next two weeks.

      The baby shifted position, reminding her that she wasn’t really on her own anymore. She had somebody else to take care of now.

      Which reminded her, she needed to eat something.

      She went to inspect the contents of the refrigerator and the kitchen cupboards. The food Adam had mentioned seemed to be mostly potato chips and cheese puffs, but she finally managed to locate a fairly fresh loaf of bread and a half-empty jar of peanut butter.

      The idea of eating in the dirty kitchen wasn’t very appealing, so she decided to take her sandwich outside. She could eat it while she checked out the rest of the farm.

      She hadn’t realized how musty the house smelled until she stepped out the door into the fresh air. A brisk wind was blowing the last of the gray clouds away, and the sky arching over the farmyard was a sweet eggshell blue.

      As she picked her way carefully through the overgrown grass, she startled five striped chickens, who squawked and flapped away. When she reached the barn, the shaggy goat with the patchy brown-and-black fur trotted up to his fence and bleated at her.

      She stuck out a hesitant finger to stroke his satiny nose. He tipped up a bearded chin and nibbled lightly on her thumb before bleating again. Natalie peered into his pen. His water trough was half-full, but a battered tin pan sat empty by the fence.

      “Are you hungry?” The goat made his sad noise again, so she offered him the last bite of her sandwich. He gobbled it up and looked at her expectantly.

      He was hungry. Adam had mentioned some feed. Maybe it was in the barn. She pulled open the rough door and looked in. The building had a dirt floor and smelled damp. Natalie shuddered.

      There was a second half-opened door to her right, and she thought she could see some yellow bags stacked inside a small room. She took a step in that direction.

      Something scrabbled in the depths of the closet-like space, and she froze.

       Please, Lord, don’t let that be a rat. I can’t handle a rat right now, not after the day I’ve had. I just can’t.

      The goat cried out again, and she bit her lip. The poor thing was starving. Rat or not, she was going to have to get to that feed. Gathering her courage, she crossed the dirt floor and pulled the door to the room fully open.

      Something flew up toward her face in a flurry of feathers and dust. She cried out and jumped backward, stumbling over a couple of rusty paint cans. She caught herself against a wooden post just before she fell, and she heard her dress rip as the fabric snagged on a protruding nail.

      The escaping hen clucked loudly as it scurried out into the sunshine. Natalie stayed where she was, breathing hard and waiting for her hammering heart to slow down.

      She was all right. It was just a chicken. She hadn’t fallen. The baby was fine.

       “Bleaaah!”

      The loud noise sounded right beside her, and she yelped in alarm. Rufus was standing in the cobweb-filled barn, looking at her with his weird golden eyes. How had he gotten out of his pen so fast?

      “Bleaaah,” he bleated at her again.

      “Shoo, Rufus. Go away!” The goat just tilted his head and watched her.

      If she had some feed, she might be able to lure him back into his pen, but she really didn’t want to go into that spooky room. No telling what else was hiding in there. The chicken sure had been in a hurry to get out.

      The feelings she’d been fighting off for hours swelled over her like a tidal wave. She was tired, her back hurt and she’d just ripped a hole in the only nice maternity dress she owned.

      She was cornered in a spidery barn with a goat and scary chickens, and somehow she had to figure out how to take care of herself and these animals for the next two weeks on the forty dollars she had in her purse. And if the baby came early, she’d have to take care of him, too.

      All by herself.

      There was no way she could do this.

      Natalie felt the sobs start from somewhere deep down, and this time she didn’t have enough strength to stop them. She leaned against the splintery post and cried her heart out while Rufus nibbled on the hem of her ruined dress.

      * * *

      The midday sun streamed through the stained glass windows of the Pine Valley Community Church sanctuary as the pianist began the last verse of the morning’s closing hymn. Jacob sang along with his congregation, profoundly relieved to see the worship hour come to a close.

      He was anxious to get out to Lark Hill and check on Natalie Davis.

      He’d spent a restless night imagining every kind of disaster that could possibly happen to a pregnant woman out at the old Larkey farm. It had turned out to be an impressive list. He never should have left Natalie out there alone, no matter what she said.

      After pronouncing the benediction, he posted himself in his usual spot at the church entryway, prepared to offer handshakes and hugs as his church family filed past him. Today the line moved a lot more quickly than it usually did. Nobody seemed to want to linger and chat, and normally friendly people were having a hard time meeting his eyes. In fact, he noticed that several members slipped out the side door without speaking to him at all.

      Something was definitely up with his little flock. But what?

      He hadn’t had a chance to check in with Arlene before the service, so he’d have to wait to find out. Arlene would know what was going on. She always did.

      The arrival of four-year-old Katie Barker was a welcome distraction. Completely unaffected by the tension around her, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek as soon as he crouched down within her range.

      “This is for you, Pastor,” she announced, handing him a dampish mound of green clay with various lumps sticking out if it. “I made it in Sunday school. It’s the turtle from Noah’s ark.”

      “I can see that,” Jacob fibbed with a smile. “Wow. And you made it for me?”

      “No, СКАЧАТЬ