Free Seeds of Summer by Deborah Vogts

new pastor in town.”
    â€œThat’s correct.” Jared’s grin expanded at the observation.
    Natalie watched their interaction with interest. Willard had obviously been sitting in on the early morning coffee sessions at Clara’s Café. How else would he know what even she failed to recognize?
    â€œMy wife babysat Natalie and the kids when they were young. Natalie used to sit on my knee while I read poetry to her. I guess she must have retained more than I realized.” Willard winked at her, and she smiled at the remembrance.
    â€œI admire a man who enjoys poetry,” Jared said.
    â€œAnd I admire a man of God.” Willard shifted his focus to Jared. “How do you know each other, anyway? Are you old friends? From college perhaps?”
    Jared shook his head and extended his hands in her direction. “I’ll let Natalie fill you in on the details.”
    All this jolly interaction made Natalie uneasy, like her arms and body were bound in a lariat and she couldn’t get loose. She needed space. A quiet place to clear her mind and think through her decisions—from the past and for the future. These two men with their talk and laughter seemed to lap up all the available air in the room. “Would you mind doing the honors? I need to step out to the barn and see if Tom made it back. If not, then I should finish unsaddling the horses.”
    Willard’s brow furrowed. “We can do that for you,” he offered.
    â€œNo need. The fresh air will do me good.” Natalie managed a smile, then escaped before they could protest further.
    J ARED CLEARED HIS THROAT AND SCANNED THE UNFAMILIAR ROOM . H IS attention returned to the man who liked poetry. “I failed to introduce myself. I’m Jared Logan.”
    The black man’s large hand reached out once more and encompassed Jared’s, his grip firm and strong. “Forgive my poor manners. Natalie’s family and I go way back. I live down the road. Willard Grover.”
    Jared remembered seeing Willard on his porch the day he’d first visited Natalie’s home. He caught the hint of peppermint on theman’s breath. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here. About my connection to Natalie.”
    â€œI am at that.” Willard’s expression remained intent. His dark eyes offered friendship but also warned not to get too close.
    A nervous chuckle issued from Jared’s throat. “I met Dillon awhile back fishing.”
    â€œNatalie told me about Dillon’s disappearance to the river. I saw the boy head off in that direction, but never thought nothing about it. Should have known it’d rattle Natalie’s cage. I reckon it would have put my wife in a tizzy too.”
    â€œHow long have you been married?”
    â€œCancer took Martha after our fortieth anniversary. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.” The man slumped onto a stair step and leaned back on his elbows. “She and this family, that is.”
    â€œYou’re close to Natalie and the kids?” That would explain the man’s unannounced entrance into the kitchen. Jared pulled up a chair, hoping to learn more.
    â€œAbout as close as a bird is to its nest. Their grandfather sold me a piece of his land, when we came home from Vietnam. Not a huge acreage but enough to call my own.”
    Jared studied the man seated before him with increasing admiration. “Retired?”
    â€œOught to, but I enjoy work too much. I have me a leather shop at home, and it keeps me busy. Mostly repair work.”
    Jared noted the man’s thick fingers, gnarled from arthritis. “You watched the kids grow up then? I understand their father passed away recently.”
    The man stared down at his hands and frowned. “Adrian was a good man, as good as his father.”
    Intrigued by Willard’s connections to Natalie’s family, Jared’s interest grew. “What about their