Seeds of Summer by Deborah Vogts Page A

which he’d handed down to her. Given a choice between mucking a stall or going to a movie, Natalie would reach for a pitchfork everytime, which accounted for her entire afternoon spent in the barn. She’d rather clean stalls and tack than sort through her father’s paperwork in the house.
    A good portion of the leather needed to be cleaned, so she searched the tack room for a tub of saddle soap and spotted some on her father’s workbench. When she removed the container from its cubbyhole, she noticed a thick envelope crushed behind. Curious, she pulled it out and examined the crinkled paper, yellowed with age.
    Unmarked but sealed, the bulky envelope practically begged to be opened.
    Wondering what might be enclosed, she lifted the seal with the tip of her fingernail and stared at the contents, too stunned to let out a gasp.
    She reached inside and pulled out a wad of twenty-dollar bills bound by a thick rubber band. Her fingers shuffled through them.
    One hundred bills to be exact.
    Shaking with excitement, Natalie counted them again, the sweet scent of cash and good fortune floating to her nose.
    â€œFive-hundred, six-hundred, seven-hundred…”
    Natalie heard the school bus shift gears and roar into their driveway. Unable to keep from grinning, she stepped into the light of the barn entrance and called to Dillon after the bus pulled away. “Take your books to the house, then come here. I have something to show you.”
    She returned to the stack of twenties, feeling as though she’d won the lottery. Could Mr. Thompson’s offhand remark about finding money in a shoe be correct? A giggle escaped her mouth as she considered whether her father might have stashed more money on the ranch.
    Natalie had actually read newspaper accounts where family members found money from their deceased tucked between the pages of a book, stuffed under a mattress, or stashed in a flowerpot in the basement. The possibilities were endless. And this scenariowent right along with the attorney’s statement about her father not trusting banks.
    Dillon shuffled through the barn door, munching on a cookie. “How come Chelsey didn’t ride the bus tonight?”
    Her fingers paused their counting. “She’s going to a youth meeting with Sarah.”
    â€œI thought you grounded her?”
    â€œNot entirely.” Natalie tore her gaze from the aged bills. “Don’t worry, Sarah’s a good kid.”
    â€œWhatever you say.” Her brother finished the rest of his chocolate-chip cookie. “What did you want to show me?”
    â€œThis.” Natalie clasped the bills and fanned them in front of her. “Have you ever seen so much money?”
    His eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”
    She sank onto a nearby stool. When he came to her side, she brushed back his long bangs, only to have him comb them forward with his fingers. “Did Dad ever mention hiding money on the ranch?”
    A shadow creased Dillon’s face, and she realized before he answered that he knew nothing. “Why?”
    â€œMr. Thompson suggested that he might have.” She showed her brother the empty envelope. “I found this hidden in the cubby over there, so I guess it’s a possibility. Do you know what that means?”
    Dillon shrugged. “That we’re rich?”
    â€œNot quite.” She chuckled. “But there might be more. I think we should go on a treasure hunt. We can each take a portion of the ranch—we’ll dig through everything. Starting with this room.”
    Dillon’s eyes transformed into animated twinkles. “This is cool—just like those reality shows on television.” He rushed over to the workbench and began shoveling through their father’s tools.
    Natalie walked up behind her brother and turned him to face her. “It’s okay to have fun. Make it a game if you want. But it’s importantthat you don’t tell