by Lori Foster
True, every so often she created a holiday all her own. Like “Cleaned the Kitchen” day. Or “Completed a Job” day.
Or “Mother Didn’t Insult Me” day. That particular holiday earned her two scoops.
This being a Monday, she didn’t even need a fake holiday.
“Sure do appreciate it, Autumn.”
Forcing her mouth into a polite smile, Autumn turned to the man who had, over the past two years, gotten several pets that he then no longer wanted. Ass, she thought in her head, but what she said was “It’s no problem at all, Ralph.”
“Got that first pig thinking it’d be small, ya know? Like a dog.”
“Yes, I know.” He’d thought he was getting a miniature pig—then he’d found out differently.
“Got the second one to keep it company, but that first one outgrew it in no time—”
“I do understand.” And damn it, she wanted her ice cream. If she had to converse, she’d rather do it with the pigs now squealing inside the cage of the truck. “I have to get going so I can get them settled.” Trying for a speck of diplomacy, she suggested, “You should really think about gifts other than pets, don’t you think? Perhaps your kids would like a nice swing set? I could design one for you.”
“Can’t afford that.”
Smile locked in place, she volunteered her sister without pause. “Ember and I help with that, okay? But only if you promise me, no more animals.”
His face lit up.
Good. One job down. She’d tackle Ember next.
At least her sister loved animals as much as she did—which, honestly, might be the only thing they had in common other than blood.
By the time she got the pigs to the farm, it was after nine o’clock. Pavlov, their six-year-old redbone coonhound, met her in the yard, jumping around the truck in excitement. Because she lived on a farm, Pavlov didn’t have to be locked in the house while she was away. The doggy door let him in when he wanted—to her side of the house, her sister’s, or into their parents’ separate home—but more often than not, he preferred to visit with a cow or mule or even a turkey.
“Hey, buddy. Miss me?”
Too busy seeing what new friends she’d brought home, Pavlov paid her no attention. Never had a dog been so taken with other animals.
“Anxious to meet, huh?” While Pavlov bounded around, jumping into the truck and then out again, she set the pigs loose in the wide open pen.
He barked in excitement.
Noses to the ground, already rooting through their new digs, the pigs moved forward. “I present Matilda and Olivia.”
Pavlov, aptly named, went into the pen, too, only because the gate was open. With the sun splashing crimson across the sky, she waited, arms folded over the wooden post, while they got acquainted. It warmed her heart to see the pigs so happy. The smaller of the two ran circles as she explored the area. The biggest one found the shade and then rolled around, wallowing in freedom.
How often had Ralph even had them outside? She’d taken them from the basement, poor babies. Yes, they’d been fed and had straw to lie on, but it wasn’t the same. Farm animals needed fresh air and sunshine.
Here, at the Fresh Start Farm, they’d get that—and more.
“You’re home now, babies.” Stepping into the pen, too, Autumn found a grassy spot to sit, and she spent another half hour lavishing love, scratches and hugs on the affectionate animals.
Finally, as the sun sank behind the trees and mosquitoes filled the air, she headed in. All it took to get Pavlov to come along was to open the gate again.
The dog walked through every open door, every single time. That, in part, accounted for his name.
Because he’d jumped into the truck bed, she took her time driving the short distance to the farmhouse, going gently over ruts and small hills so she wouldn’t jostle him too much, and then parked on the gravel lot behind the sprawling house. Porch lights had automatically flicked on.
“Race you in,” she told Pavlov and then took off running. Ears flopping, he gave chase and they hit the door together, her laughing and him barking.
Unfortunately, two steps into the foyer, she found Ember waiting on her.
“About time!” From the couch where she’d been flipping through a design magazine, Ember stood. “Where have you been anyway? It’s late. And euewww, Autumn, you reek.”
“Nice to see you, too.” Putting the shower on the back burner, she made a beeline to her kitchen sink, where she washed her hands and arms up to her elbows.
Pavlov ate the food she put into his dish like he hadn’t eaten in a month, which was just his way, then drank noisily, splashing water everywhere. Finally, with slobbering chomps, he greeted Ember.
Laughing, Ember said, “You are such a pig, Pavlov.”
Speaking of pigs...
As Pavlov headed into the living room and his big pillow bed, Ember shook her head. “I take it he’s sleeping with you tonight?”
Pavlov varied his routine, sometimes staying at her side of the house, sometimes Ember’s, and sometimes farther away on the property with her parents or their hired man, Mike. “Looks like.”
“That dog is so fickle.”
“He loves us all.” Ignoring the reason for her sister’s visit, Autumn took the ice cream from the freezer.
“Is that going to be your dinner?”
Unwilling to debate her eating habits, Autumn pointed a spoon at her. “I volunteered you today.”
With a groan, Ember flopped into a chair at the table. She, at least, looked fresh and pretty in a sundress and cute sandals. Her dark hair, much like Autumn’s but with reddish streaks supplied by a salon, didn’t look frazzled and wasn’t soaked in sweat.
No matter what Ember did, she never seemed to sweat. If she weren’t her sister, Autumn might dislike her on principle alone.
“Ralph gave us two pigs, one miniature—maybe—and one definitely not. I just got them settled, thus the lovely aroma you noted.”
“What a jerk! Two dogs, a cat, ducks and now pigs? What part of not-animal-friendly is he not getting?”
Luckily, they’d found good forever homes for the dogs and cat. It was a little tougher with the farm animals, since they didn’t want them turned into food. “That’s why I volunteered you. I promised him we’d build a swing set for his kids, if he’d stop getting animals.”
Skewing her gloss-covered mouth to the side in thought, Ember frowned, then gave a decisive nod. “I should have enough scrap wood to make something nice. Good thinking. You draw it up and then help me put it together, and you’ve got a deal.” She offered her palm.
Autumn high-fived her. “It’s a genius plan, thought of spur-of-the-moment, but only if it actually works.” More often than not, they agreed on most everything when it came to saving animals. They were well suited to run the animal rescue together.
The rest of life? Not so much.
Using that as a perfect segue, Ember gave her a sideways look. “Speaking of genius plans—”
Autumn froze. Ember’s plans were always proof positive that they led very different lives.
“—guess who’s in town?”
Shrugging, Autumn shoved a big bite of ice cream into her mouth. She had a feeling she’d need it.
Looking much like a magician about to perform an amazing trick, Ember announced, “Tash Ducker.”
The ice cream stuck halfway down her throat. Disbelieving, suffering a mix of dread and curiosity, Autumn choked. When she finally got her breath, she asked, “Tash is back?”
Many years ago—sixteen to be exact—she’d had a ridiculous crush on him. Two grades above her in high school, and oh-so gorgeous, he made her severely tongue-tied whenever he looked her way. Even after they’d graduated, she couldn’t seem to look at him without going mute. Once he’d finished college, he’d moved away and she
hadn’t seen him since.
Going into self-survival mode, a necessity with her family, Autumn replied, “Huh,” with as much nonchalance as she could muster. To further that lie of disinterest, she asked, “What’d you do today? I tried to call you about the pigs, but you didn’t answer.”
“Now that I know it was about pigs, I’m glad.” Ember flashed the smile that made all the local guys stupid. “Actually, I had a date and didn’t want to be interrupted. I figured whatever it was, you could handle it.”
That answer, given far too often, took some of the delight from the ice cream. “So...what if it had been an emergency?”
“You didn’t leave a message.” One brow lifted. “I assume you would if it was life and death?”
“Meaning you’ll only answer my calls if someone is dying?”
“Meaning,” Ember stressed, “that just because you don’t date doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. Besides, I’d already checked in on Mom and Dad.”
Well, that was something. Hopeful that Ember wouldn’t start in on her lack of a social life, Autumn nodded her gratitude.
“They needed groceries, and I swung by to get their stuff on my way home.”
“Thanks.” A few years past, their dad had suffered a debilitating stroke, leaving him largely dependent on the care of others. Ten years older than their sixty-year-old mother, Flynn Somerset still had his wit, but not the use of one arm and one leg.
Together, she and Ember had built their parents a small house on the forty acres left to them by their grandparents. It made helping them easier and more convenient, plus Autumn liked that she could get to them in minutes if anything came up.
As a designer, she’d fashioned the house for her father’s disability, making everything wheelchair accessible and putting all handles and light switches lower so he could reach them. The walk-in tub and shower made bathing so much easier. An open floor plan kept the home airy and filled with light, and made it possible to see their dad from almost every room.
Ember, who’d learned carpentry from him, had overseen the construction—and they’d only butted heads a few times in the decision-making process. When it came to design, Autumn insisted on having her way.
That wasn’t something Autumn did very often.
Their parents loved the end result because they still had their independence but weren’t really alone.
The old farmhouse had been divided into a duplex with Autumn living one side, Ember on the other. One interior door allowed them to visit without going back outside.
Ember used the door quite often, always on the presumption that Autumn had nothing “good” going on.
True enough.
However, Autumn never dared to intrude because Ember was the opposite, meaning she always indulged in the good stuff—aka man candy.
“That’s where I saw him, by the way. At the grocery.”
Avoiding eye contact, Autumn asked, “Mom and Dad are all settled now?”
“Yup.” With a knowing smile, Ember said, “But hey, you’re changing the subject. Want to tell me why?”
“I wasn’t,” she lied. Everyone knew lying to one’s little sister wasn’t a sin. Heck, it barely counted at all. “You mentioned them so I thought I’d—”
“Avoid talking about Tash?” Ember didn’t bother to hide her amusement.
Oh, how that sisterly laugh annoyed her—enough that she gave up any pretense of disinterest.
Whispering, because seriously, this was nerve-racking, Autumn asked, “You’re sure it was him?”
Just as quietly, Ember leaned in and replied, “Yes.”
With just a tiny bit of evil hope, Autumn asked, “How’s he look?” By now he could be balding. Maybe he’d picked up a beer belly. Lost his studliness altogether. She was thirty-two, so that made him thirty-five. Plenty old enough for him to have drastically changed.
Ember leaned even closer. “He’s even hotter now.”
Deflated, Autumn sat back in her seat. “Figures.” Tucking back into her ice cream, she tried to picture him a decade older, but failed. In her mind, he looked the very same. Young, healthy, energetic—and uninterested in her. “Did he say why he’s back?”
Deflecting, Ember rolled a shoulder. “He’s moved here for good.”
Hmm. What was her sister to up to? “Settling here with his wife?” That’d maybe make sense.
“He’s not married.”
Okay, so she wasn’t married either. She knew her reasons. But what were his? “You know that how?”
“I talked with him. In fact, we talked about you.”
Lord. The ice cream must have numbed her brain, because she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Left eye twitching, she stared at Ember instead.
“I have a plan.”
Pushing back her chair in haste, Autumn put space between herself and whatever nonsense her sister contrived. With a definitive “No,” she headed for the sink. Whatever it is, ten times no. After rinsing her bowl, she stuck it in the dishwasher and tried to make a strategic retreat to the shower. “Later.”
Ember jumped into her path. Wearing an expression of extreme disappointment, she shook her head. “Just look at you, Autumn.”
“That’s a little hard to do.”
“You know what I mean. You’ve given up and just don’t care anymore. The good news is that I can fix it.”
It? They’d had this conversation too many times. Truthfully, she’d never cared that much about the things Ember obsessed over—like makeup, hairstyles and the trendiest clothes.
Crossing her arms under her boobs, Autumn said, “You mean me. You want to fix me.”
Damn it, she was the it.
Rather than deny it, Ember pinched the air. “Just a tiny bit. Like...” She looked over Autumn with obvious disapproval and lamented dramatically, “Your hair. I’m not sure if that started out as a ponytail or what, but now it’s just a mess.”
“I loaded and unloaded pigs.” She pointed at Ember. “By myself, if you’ll recall, since you refused to answer the phone.”
“I’m very glad you saved them from Ralph. That’s one thing we don’t need to work on: your compassion.”
Hallelujah. She had an asset.
“But those clothes? I’m the builder, you’re the designer, but you dress like you work—”
“On a farm? With pigs?”
“That was later and you know it. This afternoon, you met with clients.”
Autumn shrugged.
“You should wear pretty dresses that flatter your figure, not pants that look like they came from the back of Grandma’s closet.”
A slow inhale didn’t help. True, she was something of a visual mess. Inside, she mostly had it together. And damn it, she liked herself. So she dressed for her own comfort? Big deal. Everyone else could bite it. “How about you don’t dissect me, and I won’t dissect you?”
Ember gave a small flinch. “I don’t mean to be insulting—”
God save her if she ever did mean it. Every time Ember or their mother got started, her stomach hurt. She hated that she didn’t measure up, and biting back sarcasm only made it worse.
“Autumn,” Ember said, reading her thoughts, “stop that. You’re fine, really.” Ember started to draw her in for a hug, sniffed the air and changed to giving her a small shake instead. “It’s just that you’re pretty and you practically hide it. It wouldn’t take much to really make you stand out—and as an incentive, I already...” She drew a breath as if to gird herself.
For Autumn’s ire. Meaning it had to be bad.
“What?” Alarm chased circles in her gut. “Ember, what did you do?”
“You have an appointment with Tash tomorrow.”
Good thing she had a wall beside her, because Autumn collapsed against it. “You didn’t.”
“Did.” In a ru
sh now, Ember explained, “He needs a designer, Autumn, and you know you’re the best around!”
She had compassion and design skill. Hey, the compliments were piling up.
“Forget that crazy crush you had on him—”
“It was eons ago!” Heat bloomed in Autumn’s face. She hated to be reminded of her most awkward years. “Of course I’ve forgotten it. Maybe you’ve forgotten that I was even engaged after that.”
It was the wrong thing to bring up. Ember’s expression softened. “I know. Neither of us will ever forget that.”
Autumn threw up her hands. “No one died, so stop looking so grim.”
“You haven’t dated since then.”
“Choice,” she emphasized. “There’s no one here who interests me, that’s all.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Sure, some guys asked, but everyone here remembered her engagement and certain assumptions came with that, making everything superawkward. “Let’s forget all my past failures, okay? I’m over them, I swear.”
“Great.” Satisfied, Ember beamed at her. “Then it’s no problem to meet with Tash, right?”
It was a massive problem—but how could she explain that after swearing it wasn’t? She could think of only one excuse. “The thing is, you don’t set my schedule. I already had my day booked.”
Dismissing that, Ember waved a hand. “I looked at our joint calendar and, um, rearranged a few things.”
Of all the intrusive, pushy, over-the-top... Straightening, Autumn squared her shoulders. “Rearrange them back.”
“Can’t.” Turning, Ember headed for the shared door. “Tash is expecting you at six.”
“I finish work at five!”
“Yeah, see, that’s how I rearranged. Added another hour for ya. If you come straight home, I’ll have a tiny bit of time to work on your appearance before you have to head to his place on the other side of the lake.” She gave an airy wave. “Tomorrow, if any emergencies come up, I promise to answer the phone to leave you free and clear.”
