Читать книгу Autumn's Awakening - Irene Brand - Страница 12

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.

“Come and have pancakes, Autumn,” Dolly called. “Miss Olive is a good cook.”

“I enjoyed Miss Olive’s meals before you were born,” Autumn said, ruffling Dolly’s hair. “I need a shower before anything else. Besides, I’ve already had my breakfast.”

“You’re looking decidedly cheerful for a woman who drove five hundred miles yesterday and spent most of the night out on a vet call,” Trina observed.

Olive laughed, Autumn blushed and Trina stared suspiciously at her friend.

Heading for the stairs, Autumn said, “I’ll be down soon. Do we have a full schedule today?”

“Only a few calls so far. Ray’s usual procedure is to open the clinic for surgery at eight o’clock,” Olive explained, “and go on field calls in the afternoon. Since there are two of you, it should work out well for one of you to be at the clinic all the time. We have lots of emergency walk-in customers. Ray is the only vet in the area, so he’s always busy.”

“Suits us,” Trina said. “We need to put our education to practical use.”

When Autumn got back to her room after showering, Trina was struggling up the stairs with two suitcases.

“I’ll help with that,” Autumn said, “as soon as I dress.”

“Take your time. Dolly is helping Miss Olive with the dishes.” Trina brought a bag into Autumn’s room. She admired an antique barrel-top train trunk that stood in front of the window, then sat on the side of Autumn’s bed.

“You look happier than I’ve seen you since the day Spring and Bert were married. What’s happened?”

Pulling a sweatshirt over her head, Autumn grinned. “Old eagle eye! Am I that transparent?” Her pulse quickened when she said happily, “My early-morning call was to the farm of Nathan Holland. His uncle died and Nathan inherited the property that adjoins Daddy’s farm.”

“No wonder you’re radiant! Don’t tell me you’ve already patched up the differences of the past.”

Autumn shook her head. “We’re a long way from that, for we can’t span eight years in a few hours. He did ask me to have breakfast with him, so I suppose that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Apparently that torch you’ve carried for him is still burning brightly?”

“I don’t know how bright it is, but there’s still a flicker left. It’s ridiculous, with all that’s behind me and the future I have as a veterinarian, that I can’t forget a girlish infatuation.”

“Are you sure it was only an infatuation?”

“I don’t know, but I suppose two months will give me time to find out.” Autumn finished tying her shoes. “Let’s go to work.”

Nathan jammed his hands deep in his pockets as Autumn drove away from Woodbeck Farm. He returned to the kitchen, filled the dishwasher, unlocked a drawer in his desk and took out a large envelope. Sitting at the table, he drew out a photograph that he’d mistakenly taken away from Indian Creek Farm the day Landon had fired him. As he’d angrily scooped up his possessions and loaded them into boxes, he didn’t realize he’d gotten a file folder that belonged to the Weavers.

After he arrived at the oil camp in the Middle East, he started studying the textbooks and notes he’d used at OSU, where he had studied for one semester. Among his papers, he’d discovered a folder containing several newspaper clippings of Weaver triumphs at various fairs and farm shows. Triumphs that had made the Weaver girls famous throughout the Midwest. Their names commemorating the seasons of the year had been noteworthy, but from the time they were able to walk, dressed alike in prairie dresses and sunbonnets, they’d perched on the wagon beside their father as his six-hitch draft horses won numerous trophies in parades and fairs in Ohio and neighboring states.

The enclosure that ruined what little peace of mind Nathan had mustered since the episode with Landon was a large photo of Autumn, dressed in a long, blue dress, wearing a matching sunbonnet, standing beside a Belgian mare. Nathan was angry that her image had followed him halfway around the world, and he started to destroy the picture, but he didn’t have the courage. Posting her picture over his bunk, he learned to live with Autumn’s presence, thinking he would never see her again.

“God,” he moaned, “why did she have to come back? I’ve ordered my life without her and am finally making something of myself. The things that matter the most haven’t changed. I’m still a struggling farmer born on the wrong side of the tracks. She’s Autumn Weaver, member of a socially prominent family and possible heir to great riches. Why did she have to return?”

But had he ordered his life without her? Determined to wipe Autumn’s memory from his mind, Nathan had dated several women, but none of them snagged his interest. Nathan thought Autumn was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and all other women paled into insignificance when he compared them to Autumn when she was eighteen. She’d been tall, willowy, regal. Curly chestnut hair framed her oval face like a halo, and her animated sky-blue eyes nestled in a smooth, creamy complexion, soft as a rose petal. She was even more fascinating now. Nathan shook his head to clear away the memories and locked the picture back in his desk.

He went to the barn and took the still-sleeping Tony by the arm. “Wake up, Tony. Your mother told me to bring you home early. You have a dental appointment this morning.”

“Aw, gee,” Tony said, shaking himself awake. “I wanted to stay here.”

“Your mother can drop you off on the way back from the dentist, and you can finish painting the fence around the paddock. I’ll be out in the fields, and if Dr. Weaver leaves any medicine, put it in that refrigerator here in the barn.”

After the short trip to the Simpson farm and back, Nathan got on his tractor and headed toward the fields to cut alfalfa, hoping to avoid another encounter with Autumn until he stifled his emotions, but that was a mistake. One of his most memorable incidents with Autumn had occurred when he was cutting hay.

The summer day she’d returned home from college was seared in his memory. He’d been in the alfalfa field driving a team of Belgians hitched to a mower, when he’d seen her hurrying along the path to the pasture. She’d stopped when she reached the mower, and her eyes had brightened when he tipped back his hat so she could see his face. He’d heard about her homecoming, and he wondered if he’d see her. His pulse was racing, for he didn’t suppose she would even remember him.

Her eyes had brightened. “Nathan?” she cried delightedly.

He’d grinned and stepped to the ground beside her.

“I didn’t know you were working for Daddy.”

“After Christmas I came back to Ohio and asked your dad for a job. He hired me the first of the year to take care of his young stock. I live in that little apartment over the tack room.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. I remember you said you’d like to raise Belgians.”

His dark face flushed, and embarrassed, he’d said, “That’s only a dream. I don’t suppose I’ll ever reach it.”

“You’re at the right place to learn the trade. If anyone can teach you about draft horses, it’s Daddy. I’m pleased to see you, Nathan. I’ve thought about you often this winter. I was never so happy to see anyone as I was when you showed up in the barn last Christmas Eve.”

Surprised at her candor, Nathan had felt his face flushing. “I didn’t do anything. You were the expert.”

“But you were there! If you hadn’t encouraged me, I might not have saved the foal.”

They’d been standing on a high point providing an overview of the farm. Autumn had looked around in delight as she surveyed the four hundred acres of flat fields and slightly rolling hills bisected by Indian Creek and bounded with white board fences. She’d pulled off her sandals and run circles in the dark-green alfalfa hay while a slight breeze stirred her curly hair.

“Glad to be home, are you?” Nathan had said, grinning at her exuberance.

“Oh, yes! I’m going to the pasture to see Noel. How is she?”

“Looks like a fine filly to me. Bet you can’t pick her out of the other foals.”

“Of course I can! I’ve had her picture on my desk since Christmas. How much do you want to bet?”

“Just kidding!”

“No. I mean it. If I can pick Noel out of all the other foals, you buy me dinner. If I can’t, I’ll pay.”

He shook his head. “I’m not betting.”

“I’ve got to hurry. Mother insists that I be back in time for dinner. Can you go with me to the pasture?”

When he’d heard that Autumn was coming home for the summer, Nathan had made up his mind to avoid this girl who’d dominated his thoughts for months. Now that he’d seen her again, his good resolutions had dwindled. It was one thing to say he’d have nothing to do with Autumn when she was in Massachusetts. But seeing her in the flesh, her windblown red hair framing a smiling face, her luminous blue eyes smiling at him, all of his resolutions had disappeared as if he’d never made them.

Knowing it wasn’t wise, Nathan had unhitched the reins and tied the horses to the fence, so they wouldn’t stray while he was gone. “I only have another hour’s work, so I can spare a few minutes.”

“What else have you been doing since I saw you?” Autumn asked as they walked side by side.

“I’ve been taking night classes at OSU’s agricultural college, where I’ve learned you need a lot of head knowledge, as well as experience and money to become a farmer. Uncle Matthew is helping me.”

Nathan’s father, a half brother of Matthew Holland, had never been a good provider, and Nathan had grown up in poverty. His father resented Matthew’s affluence and distanced himself from his brother, but after the death of Nathan’s father, Matthew had helped his sister-in-law and her three boys.

“So, you still think you’d like to be a farmer? That episode at Christmas didn’t discourage you?”

Nathan had shaken his head, but didn’t answer. He couldn’t think dispassionately about anything that had happened at their first meeting.

When they’d reached the pasture, Autumn clapped her hands when she saw the ten red foals grazing. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

“I think so.” Nathan had unlatched the fence, and ten sorrel heads lifted expectantly. Nathan took a halter from a fence post, and they entered the pasture and walked slowly toward the young animals, whose legs seemed much too long in proportion to their graceful slender bodies. Their chestnut coats gleamed like burnished copper, and a breeze ruffled the white manes.

“They’re used to me,” Nathan had said, “so I can usually catch them. They’ve only been weaned for a few weeks, but I’ve been breaking them to the halter all winter. Pick out Noel, and I’ll put a halter on her.”

Autumn walked slowly among the foals and looked at all of them carefully before she stopped in front of one and ran her hand over the white strip on its face. “That’s Noel,” she said, and Nathan grinned, walked to the filly and put the halter around her neck.

“How did you know?”

“Instinct, maybe. Remember I’ve grown up with Belgian colts, but mostly, because I found that red star in the middle of her forehead. That’s the clue I looked for.”

Noel had tossed her head, but she’d quieted when Autumn’s hands caressed her neck and shoulders. “Oh, she’s wonderful. Do you think I have time to train her for showing at the state fair in August?”

“I don’t have a clue, but your dad will know.”

“But I’m not sure he’ll agree to let me show Noel. He might, if Mother doesn’t interfere.” Autumn had given the filly another hug when they left the pasture.

Before they parted in the hay field, Autumn had said, “Don’t forget, you lost the bet.”

Wanting desperately to have a date with her, he’d shaken his head. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I think your father is pleased with my work at Indian Creek Farm, but he wouldn’t approve if I took you out for dinner. A few months ago, one of the workers invited your sister to go to a church meeting, and Mr. Weaver fired him immediately.”

“I’m old enough to choose my own friends. I like you.”

Nathan’s heart had leaped at her words, but trying to control the tremor in his voice, he said patiently, “You don’t understand. Just because you and I met under unusual circumstances doesn’t mean we can be friends.”

“We will, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Give me a break, Autumn. I need this job. I want to work here, so don’t get me in trouble with the boss.”

When he stepped back on the mower, she’d said, “I can handle Daddy.”

Famous last words! Nathan thought as he remembered what had happened on the day Landon Weaver had fired him.