In God's Own Time. Ruth Scofield
opened and all five kids ran out.
“Dad, Thad’s hogging the last of the dill pickles,” Aimee complained “Make him share ”
“I called ‘em the other day.” Thad hugged a jar close against his chest.
“That’s enough, Thad. Put the pickles on the table and get the cordless phone for Meg.”
“Dad, that’s not fair. I called—”
“No arguments tonight, and do as I asked. We have a guest,” Kelsey reminded.
Thad opened his mouth to protest; at his Dad’s expression, he changed his mind. But not before he sent Meg a silent glance of resentment. It hurt just a little. Meg wondered what she’d done to trouble the boy. But how could he be upset with her when they barely knew each other?
Maybe that was it; she’d made a fuss over the girls but not the boys. Something she’d have to remedy
Meg made her call and relaxed when Kathy told her that Audrey had a couple of friends visiting and assured her she wasn’t needed at home Audrey, though a little petulant, accepted her explanation, and Meg promised to look in on her mother before retiring
The children urged her to the barn to see the 4-H projects.
Meg oohed over the boys’ bull, Fred, and listened to all his finer points and did the same for the girls’ sheep, Betsy Ross, dutifully patting and admiring.
“I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much about farm animals,” Meg said for Kelsey’s ears only as they trooped back to the house.
Kelsey chuckled. “And you actually admit to such shame after growing up in America’s heartland?”
“Well, I have only a cat. Besides, I’m a town girl. I didn’t grow up with farm animals if you recall.”
Meg’s father had been an unassuming man content to be a small-town lawyer, never expanding his practice beyond himself and one clerk But when he died just after she’d graduated college, he surprisingly left her mother well enough provided for, and she and her brother Jack each had a small nest egg for their futures.
“What of those visits to your grandparents’ farm you and Dee Dee used to talk about? They had animals, surely. And all those state fairs you attended with Dee Dee and me, visiting the animal exhibits? I seem to remember you loved the fair.”
“Oh, I did. It was one of summer’s highlights. But then, it would be, in a small town, wouldn’t it?”
“Big-city girl now, huh? Only a cat?”
“Umm-hmm. Jasper. The only four-legged animal in my life.”
“Well, back then, you sure made the rounds of the animal pens and sat through endless hours of judging as if you knew a thing or two.”
“Fooled you, didn’t we?”
“We?”
“Dee Dee and I only sat through all that to please you. We really liked the carnival rides best. And the lop-eared rabbits. They always resembled story book creatures from Winnie the Pooh.”
“You insult me, Meggie! How could you lead me on so?”
Meg couldn’t help it She giggled as though she were Lissa’s age.
“It was easy You were always so excited about everything to do with farming and working the land. The newest animal breeds, the newest machinery, the latest methods.”
“Now wait a minute. Didn’t you even like the homemaking stuff? The cooking and sewing and all that? You won something or other one year, didn’t you?”
Meg grinned. “You got me there. Yes, I did get a blue ribbon for my fudge. Grandma Hicks’s recipe. But I haven’t made it in years ”
“The big city has ruined you!” he said in mock horror.
“That’s right. I’ve forgotten any rural connections I once might’ve yearned for.”
“Poor baby!” He threw an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side in a display of fondness she’d long missed. Funny…no other man had ever affected her the way Kelsey did. She loved his banter, felt young and appreciated under his bigbrother attitude. Yet she’d always hungered to know what his lips felt like in a lover’s embrace.
“Did you hear that, kids?” he called as they reached the back porch, letting his arm drop. “Aunt Meg is suffering from malnutrition.”
“What’s that?” Heather asked, piling chips on her plate.
“It’s starving till you die,” replied Phillip, already munching on a hot dog. “Dad, can we get the marshmallows?”
“Lissa’s getting them,” said Aimee, handing Meg a paper plate filled with a hot dog and beans. “C’mon, Aunt Meg. After we eat, we’ll teach you how to roast marshmallows on the grill.”
“Starving? Didn’t anybody feed you supper before?” Heather asked, her feathery brows drawn with perplexity.
“Your Dad’s just teasing, honey. I’ve been taking care of myself perfectly well.” Meg slid onto the picnic bench, and Kelsey followed.
“Uh-huh,” Kelsey said with a snort as he squirted mustard from a squeeze bottle onto her wiener before doing his own. “Taking care of yourself? All you’ve had for nurturing are tall buildings, harsh concrete and high fashion with nothing to keep you company but that dry, lifeless stuff of crunching numbers. You’ve been deprived of your roots, Meggie. How have you survived without a little earthy visit now and again to feel alive?”
“Oh…I’ve managed.” She bit into her dog. More than managed, if he only knew. She had a side to her that he’d never known.
True, Meg had missed considerably Missouri’s rolling hills, Ozark Mountains, the rivers and easy accessibility to green open spaces, but she’d discovered in herself a rare talent for growing a different kind of crop than what Kelsey produced. Money. Lots of it. Heaps of it.
As she silently munched, listening to the children’s exchanges, observing Kelsey’s gentle rule over the table, she thought about her career. It did surprise her.…
Meg had a gift for investment banking. She understood it, the industry talked to her. Her ability to recognize good—even fabulous—investments could only have come from the good Lord, Himself, she thought, because she seemed to be the only one in her family to have it. Jack, following their father’s lead, had gone into law, but rather than settle for a small-town existence, he’d taken his degree into the St. Louis corporate world. He did fine for himself and his family, but Meg knew her brother wasn’t into making a fortune.
No one knew just how large her own investment portfolio and bank accounts had grown, either. It wasn’t something her family discussed as a rule, other than her mother occasionally asking if she was making ends meet all right. Meg hadn’t flaunted her ability, Clive knew, but only because they worked so closely together
But as for a connection with the land, the kind her grandparents had known, and as Kelsey did…no, that hadn’t been her path. It might have been if Kelsey—
Meg drew a sharp breath and let it out slowly. It was time to go home! Spending time with Kelsey and the kids was making her loopy. Wonderful and miserable at the same tume.
Meg stared at the children, now shuffling for a space around the charcoal embers, with marshmallows stuck onto the long ends of their sticks. It would be so easy to become too attached to them. To suffer heartbreak all over again when she had to leave.
“Lissa,” she said suddenly, “why don’t you walk me to the car. I really need to get going.”
“Sure, Aunt Meg.”
“So soon?” Kelsey said. “I’d hoped we could talk after the kids went to bed.”
“Some other