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
