Autumn's Awakening

Chapter Two

One of the cow’s flailing hooves struck Autumn’s leg, and remembering why she was here, she put her stethoscope on the animal’s trembling side. The loud palpitations hurt her ears. She handed the stethoscope to Nathan so he could hear the hammering heart, wondering if he could also detect her pulse beating almost as fast as the cow’s.

“I’m sure it’s grass tetany,” she explained, “but Ray has plenty of medicines, so I hope it’s not too late to save her.”

“I didn’t find her until after dark,” Nathan said, concern in his voice. “She was bawling and galloping around blindly before she fell down. I haven’t had this happen to any of my cattle before. What can you do?”

“I’ll slowly inject her with a mixture of magnesium and calcium compounds and monitor the heart carefully while I’m doing it. If she reacts favorably, I’ll administer a sedative to settle her down so we can take her into shelter. All of this rain has increased the potassium and nitrogen in the herbage, so she needs to be taken out of the pasture.”

After an hour or so, the cow seemed stable, so Autumn, Nathan, and Tony urged her to her feet and alternately led and pushed her toward the barn. After the animal was bedded down in a sawdust-littered stall, Autumn said, “You should feed her hay and concentrate for the next few days to keep the blood magnesium from falling again. I’ll come back later on today and bring some more medication for you to give her every day.”

Exhausted, the boy curled up on a stack of hay and went to sleep. Nathan grinned. “Tony’s not used to working all night. He’s a neighbor boy, who helps me occasionally. His parents are gone and he was spending the night with me, but he hasn’t gotten much sleep.” Nathan shook the boy’s shoulder. “Tony, come in the house and go to bed.” Tony didn’t stir. Nathan took a blanket off a hook and covered the boy with it. “The night’s almost over, so I might as well let him sleep here.”

The rain had ceased and daylight had come when they left the barn. “So you’re the assistant Ray hired while he took a two-months’ world tour. Wonder why he didn’t tell me you were the one?”

“I thought you were surprised to see me. Didn’t Ray tell anyone that I was helping him for a few weeks?”

“If he had, I’m sure I would have heard that the runaway Weaver daughter was coming home.”

Autumn was tired, and she didn’t like the cynical tone of his voice, wondering if Nathan had changed for the worse since she’d seen him. He’d been a shy, soft-spoken, understanding youth. She opened the door of Ray’s truck, pulled off the muddy coveralls and put them and the bucket of supplies on the floor of the cab.

“Do you want to come in for breakfast and a cup of coffee?” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Autumn hesitated. She’d only be in Greensboro for two months, so was it wise to open up old wounds? But she couldn’t turn down an opportunity to find out about Nathan. Was he married? Was he inviting her to eat on behalf of his wife? There was one way to find out, so she said, “Yes. I’d like that.”

She followed him up two steps to the back porch, and when he held the door open, she entered the kitchen, a large, squarish room, with an oval wooden table in the center. One corner of the room held a television, a plastic-covered lounge chair and a matching sofa. The room smacked of masculinity. Although it was neat and orderly, Autumn didn’t see any evidence that a woman lived there—no floral arrangements, no feminine apparel, no knickknacks on the shelves. At the sink, Nathan ran water into a teakettle and took cooking utensils from a cabinet, as if he knew his way around the kitchen. No wife now, Autumn was sure, but had there been one in the years since she’d known him?

Until the warmth of the room reached out to comfort her, Autumn hadn’t realized she was shaking from the dampness. Or was it a reaction to his unexpected presence? Nathan directed her to the washroom near the kitchen, and when she returned, he had two plates laid, and eggs and bacon frying.

“Where’s your uncle?” she asked.

“He died two years ago and willed the farm to me. I’ve been living here for a year and a half.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. When she was a girl, she’d admitted to Doc Wheeler that she had a serious crush on Nathan. Why hadn’t he mentioned that Nathan was now the owner of Woodbeck Farm?

Autumn watched Nathan as he worked. Above his straight, wide eyebrows, the years had marked his face with a network of deeply etched lines. His forehead ran freely into the structure of a high-bridged nose. He still wore his dark-brown hair short and his slate-gray eyes were calm but guarded when he looked at her. Nathan had been unsure of himself and exhibited a low self-esteem when he’d first come to work at Indian Creek Farm, but while they had worked with the sick cow tonight, she’d been impressed by his confidence and skill.

If memories of the slender, youthful Nathan had kept her from being interested in any other man, what effect would a brawny, mature Nathan have on her? Nathan’s shirt stretched tightly over well-muscled arms and shoulders, and his hands were quick and deft at his tasks.

God, is Trina right? Could Nathan be the reason You brought me back to Greensboro?

Nathan placed two eggs, bacon and three slices of toast on her plate. “Do you take your coffee black?”

“Yes, and the stronger the better. I started drinking coffee in vet school. After I worked and studied most of the night, I needed something to keep me awake.”

He looked keenly at her. In some ways she looked as he’d remembered her. Curly auburn shoulder-length hair always falling carelessly over her brow. Keen, azure eyes on a level with his. Above-medium height that matched his own. These physical characteristics hadn’t changed. What was missing?

Enthusiasm that had marked her youth had been replaced by resignation. Once he could detect what Autumn was thinking by looking at her, but her steady gaze was unfathomable now. There was a new maturity about her. Dark circles under her eyes indicated a strain that was more than skin deep and her smooth pinkish complexion was marred by slight worry creases across her forehead. When she relaxed, she looked tired.

Autumn squirmed under his intense scrutiny and he said, “You’re too thin. Have you had a rough time?”

“I guess you could say that. Working my way through three years of college and four years of vet school wasn’t easy.”

The food was tasty, and they ceased conversation until their appetites were sated. Nathan replenished their coffee cups and leaned back in his chair.

“I didn’t know you’d left Greensboro until I came back after my uncle’s death.”

Autumn looked out the window where early-morning sunlight revealed a verdant meadow. A herd of about thirty Angus cattle grazed contentedly. A meadowlark softly greeted the morning from a fence post. She wondered if it was too soon to stir up the past, to speak of incidents best forgotten.

“I left Ohio the day after you did, and I haven’t been back since. I’m not sure I should have come home now.”

“Why? Because I’m here?”

“That has nothing to do with it,” she declared, thinking if she’d known he was at Woodbeck Farm, she might have returned sooner. “What did you do before you inherited the farm?”

“After the things that happened between—” he paused “—between us, I wanted to put as much space between me and Ohio as possible. I got a job in the Middle East oil fields. I’d probably still be there if Uncle Matt hadn’t died and willed me this property.”

He paused momentarily, remembering the lonely years he’d worked hard, long hours trying to force his fascination for Autumn from his heart. He’d thought he’d succeeded, but now that he’d seen her again, he knew his efforts had been wasted. The affection he’d thought was gone had only been buried, for it had surfaced the minute he’d seen her tonight.

“But I made a lot of money,” he continued. “I sent some to help my mother and banked the rest, so I had some capital to get started. Uncle Matt hadn’t been in good health for a few years, and the place was really run-down. It will take a long time, and lots of work and money, to get the farm the way I want it to be.”

Autumn remembered his dream of becoming a farmer, and she was happy that he’d reached his goal. She toyed with the coffee cup, refusing when he wanted to refill it.

“I’d better go. There’s probably lots of calls to make, and I don’t want to put the whole burden on Trina.”

“Who?”

“Trina Jackson. She’s my friend, and we went through school together. She’ll be helping out until Ray gets back.” She thanked him for breakfast and stood up.

“Sit down, Autumn. You can spare a few more minutes. I’ve told you what I’ve been doing. I’m curious about you.”

Reluctant to talk about the past, but even more reluctant to leave him, she settled back into the chair.

Without meeting his eyes, she said, “When I confessed to Daddy that I—” she hesitated, and chose different words “—was interested in you, he was so angry, he threatened to cut off all my funds until I came to my senses. My mother wanted me to marry Harrison Lowe. She was ambitious for her daughters, and when Harrison showed some interest in me, she decided I’d make a good doctor’s wife.”

“But you wanted to be a veterinarian.”

“That’s true. I’d wanted to be a vet since I was a child and had seen Doc Wheeler save one of our colts. I wasn’t surprised that Mother would disagree, but I was sure Daddy would be on my side. He always had been before.”

Autumn paused, recalling the year she’d been spent in an expensive boarding school in the East. Her parents’ plans to prepare her for a social life had ebbed when she came home for the Christmas holidays and met Nathan. By the end of the first year, she’d made up her mind that she wouldn’t return to the boarding school—a decision that had intensified when she reached the farm and found Nathan working for her father.

Wondering what Autumn was thinking that had caused sadness to overspread her face, Nathan recalled that his uncle had told him how disappointed the Weavers had been when their oldest daughter, Spring, had married a missionary and moved to Bolivia. The second daughter, Summer, was a shy girl, and Clara Weaver was determined that Autumn would be trained to carry on the aristocratic Weaver tradition. Had his appearance in her life caused Autumn to rebel against her parents? Nathan wondered how much he was responsible for changing the vivacious, laughing girl he’d known into this serious woman with a resigned look on her face.

“Harrison was all right, but I didn’t want to marry him, and I wasn’t going to fight with Mother about it. When I learned you’d gone without even saying goodbye, I left, too. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. As a matter of fact, I didn’t know what I was going to do when I drove away from Greensboro.”

She paused, and the bleak expression in her eyes deepened as she remembered vividly the lost, hopeless feeling she’d experienced that day.

“So what did you do?”

She laughed slightly and the sparkle in her blue eyes dissolved some of the fatigue lines on her face. “I decided to travel. Trina is a cousin of Bert Brown, who’s married to my sister, Spring. Trina and I met at their wedding, and we kept in touch by letter after that. She’d invited me to visit her, and when I had no other place to go, I went to see her in Nashville. I took all the money from my savings account that I’d been accumulating since I was a child, and when I got to Columbus I sold my sports car. I had enough money to last me for a while.”

“I remember that sports car! Wasn’t it hard to give up?”

“Not really. Daddy bought it for me when I graduated from high school. I wanted a pickup truck instead, but Mother objected that it wasn’t a suitable vehicle for me, so they gave me an expensive car. When I needed money, I was glad I had it. Trina was getting ready to go to a Christian youth conference in London, and since I had nothing else to do, I tagged along.”

Autumn paused, thinking about the conference that had introduced her to a whole new way of life. Trina had jokingly called her a heathen, because she knew nothing about what it meant to be a Christian. Except for a few weddings and funerals, Autumn had never attended a church service, but after she spent two weeks at that conference, she’d become a student of the Bible, trying to span her gulf of ignorance about spiritual matters. She’d come to believe the Gospel message, but even yet, she couldn’t submit wholly to Christ’s lordship. Looking at Nathan’s interested eyes across the table, she knew she couldn’t expect God to forgive her own sins until she’d received forgiveness from Nathan and her parents for the past.

“And then what?” Nathan prompted.

“After the conference, with a group of youths and a couple of adult advisors, we backpacked several months on the continent of Europe. We’d travel until we ran out of money, then we’d find work, usually on farms. Trina was a city girl, but she became interested in animals, and we decided to go to vet school. I had $5.25 in my pocket when I got off the plane in Milwaukee.”

“How did you manage to go to college? Did your father help you?”

“I’ve had no contact with my family since I left. I learned through my sister, Spring, that Daddy had disowned me, saying I would never be welcome at Indian Creek Farm again. I guess I’m as stubborn as he is, so I didn’t ask him for anything.”

“You didn’t know your mother is ill?”

“Not until I saw Ray last month. He told me she’s an invalid and also how Daddy has let the farm run down. Those are the reasons I said I might have been better off to stay away. I can’t bear to think of my home and family deteriorating when there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Where did you go to school?” Nathan asked, wanting to learn everything he could about those years Autumn had been lost to him.

“At the University of Wisconsin.”

“Why Wisconsin?”

“Trina’s sister lives in Milwaukee, and after we got back from Europe, she offered us a place to stay until we got settled. Too, it was far enough away from Ohio that I didn’t think I’d encounter anyone I knew.”

“That school has a good reputation.”

Autumn nodded. “I already had one year of college, and some of my credits were accepted at Wisconsin. By taking classes year-round, we graduated last month. There were times when I wondered if I’d ever graduate, for, to pay our expenses, Trina and I started a cleaning business. We hired other students to work for us. We cleaned office buildings at night, and we didn’t have much time to study.”

“And your father sitting here with his pockets full of money!”

“If I’d done what my parents wanted, they’d have taken care of me, but I didn’t choose to do that.” She stood up and stretched. “Thanks for the breakfast. I’ll check on the cow, and then I’ll head back to Greensboro.”

He walked with her to the barn, where they found Tony still sleeping on the hay, and the cow contentedly chewing her cud.

“You saved the cow for me, Autumn, and I appreciate your coming to help. I can’t afford to lose any livestock. I’m operating on a shoestring.” He took her hand in a firm shake. “You’re going to be a good vet. I’m glad you had the courage to get what you wanted in life.”

Not everything I wanted, she thought, for she’d never gotten over losing him. She wouldn’t meet Nathan’s gaze, fearing he could read the emotion in her eyes.

As they strolled toward the truck, Nathan said, “Hearing your story has cleared up something that’s bothered me since I came to Greensboro. It took me months to convince people that you and I hadn’t been living together the years I was away.”

Autumn stared at him. “What?”

“That’s right. And I understand why now. If you left the day after I did, and no one knew where either of us was, they jumped to a wrong conclusion. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but someone might say something to you.”

“I won’t be here very long, so perhaps I won’t have to answer questions about my past.”

Nathan watched as she got into Ray’s truck and started the engine. Before she drove away, Autumn looked directly into his gray eyes and said, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Nathan, but that day after Daddy fired you, I told him that I was to blame for what happened between us. He didn’t believe me, but as soon as I could, I came to Woodbeck Farm. By that time you were already gone, and your uncle wouldn’t tell me where you were. There was no way to make restitution, but I’ve always wanted to see you again and tell you I was sorry.”

He held up his hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Autumn. I was as much to blame as you. We were both too young to be making decisions for the future. It’s okay.”

“I hope so. Anyway, I’m thankful that God brought us together again so I could apologize.”

He nodded, and the warmth in his steady, gray eyes made her hopeful. “It’s good to see you again. Autumn.”

Chapter Three

When Autumn reached the highway, she took the long way back to Greensboro. She had to deal with this surprise meeting with Nathan before she talked to Trina or Miss Olive. In spite of the lack of sleep she’d had, Autumn couldn’t remember when she’d felt so exhilarated. After being empty for eight years, a part of her had suddenly been filled when Nathan took her hand and said, “Welcome home, Autumn.”

What had drawn her to Nathan in the first place? What had captivated her so forcefully that no other man had ever seemed worthy of her attention? With the window down, and the wind fluffing her curly red hair around her face, she drove slowly over roads that had been familiar to her in the past.

Perhaps one reason she cherished his friendship was that he’d come into her life on a Christmas Eve when she desperately needed help. Her father was returning from a Belgian horse association meeting. Her mother, Clara, and sister, Summer, had gone to the airport to meet him, while Autumn stayed at home. A freak snowstorm had delayed Landon’s flight, and Clara and Summer were marooned at the airport.

Resigned to spending Christmas Eve alone, Autumn had turned on the in-house monitoring system that Landon used to survey what was going on in the horse barns. Autumn loved watching the horses. She scanned the huge, well-lit barn with its comfortable box stalls, the huge reddish horses munching slowly on their supper of oats mixed with molasses. All seemed well until she looked at Tulip in the last stall. Instead of eating, Landon’s prize brood mare paced restlessly, acting colicky. Landon Weaver’s horses didn’t get the colic, and Autumn had known immediately what was wrong. Tulip was getting ready to foal.

Autumn had telephoned for the veterinarian immediately, only to learn from Miss Olive that Ray Wheeler was out on a call. Under ordinary conditions, the mare could deliver her foal without any assistance, but if there was trouble, it could mean the loss of the mare or foal. Autumn drew on heavy clothes and fought her way to the barn through the swirling snow. She’d helped her father many times when a mare needed assistance, but she was afraid to try it by herself.

Autumn was busily preparing the foaling stall, when a slender young man walked into the barn. Pulling a red snow-covered cap from his dark-brown hair, he’d said in a hesitant voice, “I’m Nathan Holland. I’m visiting my uncle at Woodbeck Farm, and he volunteered my assistance to clean the barns while Mr. Weaver’s been gone. Uncle was afraid this storm would delay your father’s return, and he asked me to drive over and check on the horses.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you,” Autumn said, warming to the sincerity in his slate-gray eyes and the slight smile on his sensitive, well-formed mouth. “One of the horses is going to foal, and I need help.”

He laughed lowly, and Autumn liked the sound. “Shouldn’t you call a vet? I’m a city boy. I won’t be much help.”

“I can tell you what to do,” Autumn had assured him, and the two of them had worked companionably as they padded the foaling stall and moved the large Belgian into place. Then they’d gone into Landon’s office to monitor the mare’s progress on the television screen. While they munched on snacks Autumn had found in the refrigerator, she had told Nathan of her desire to be a vet.

“Seems like that would be a good job for you,” he’d said. “I’d go for it.”

“What would you like to do, Nathan?” she’d asked, for they’d started out on a first-name basis.

“Since I graduated from high school, I’ve been working at a plant in Indianapolis,” he said, “helping to support my mother and brothers, and I haven’t thought much about the future.” He laughed, embarrassed, as he added, “But working here for your father the past few days, I’ve decided I’d like to be a farmer.”

“I can’t think of any better profession,” Autumn told him. “I’d love to spend the rest of my life here on the farm.”

“But to be a successful farmer, I’d need to go to college, and I don’t have any money for that nor to buy a farm. It’s only a dream.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she’d said. “My great-grandfather started the Weaver Belgian tradition with one filly. He didn’t have any money to buy stock, but a man gave him an orphan foal the owner thought was going to die. He nursed the filly until it was well, and the rest of the story is all around us. I’ve been taught to believe you can have anything you really want.”

Their conversation was interrupted when she’d discovered that Tulip was having trouble. Autumn had spent the next hour moving the foal into position for birth. Nathan had knelt beside her, helping and encouraging her in every way he could. Soon after midnight, Tulip had given birth to a healthy filly, a sleek auburn-brown foal with a pronounced star in the long white streak down its nose. Landon had been so grateful that Autumn had saved both the mare and foal that he’d given the foal to her as a Christmas gift. She’d promptly named the filly Noel to commemorate the day of its birth.

The next day Nathan had gone home to Indianapolis, and at the end of the holidays, Autumn went back to college. She didn’t forget Nathan, however, and during the winter, she’d made two decisions that had plunged her into conflict with her parents and had charted her future course. She would not return to the fancy boarding school, and she intended to find out where Nathan was so she could pursue their acquaintance.

Elated over her chance meeting with Nathan at Woodbeck Farm, Autumn entered the Wheeler home through the kitchen. Dolly and Trina sat at a round table, that had served several generations of Wheelers, feasting on pancakes and sausage. Autumn had hesitated about bringing Dolly, fearing Olive wouldn’t want an uninvited guest, but Ray’s sister had already succumbed to Dolly’s chatter and winning smile. Dolly was a chubby child, and her long brown hair framed a dark oval face dominated by slate-gray eyes. Dolly was cheerful and lovable.