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
