by Irene Brand
“What about the Bible class? Nathan is one of our finest teachers, although he was hesitant about accepting the position. He’s very busy at his farm.”
Trina darted a look toward Autumn. “It was a good lesson,” Trina said slowly. “All of us need to hear what the Bible says about forgiveness.”
“I hope you’ll continue worshiping with us.”
“I intend to,” Trina said, “as long as we’re here.”
Autumn knew that Elwood would have noticed Nathan’s reaction to their presence on Sunday. If she and Nathan spent much time together as she hoped, the pastor might as well know why.
“I’ll attend church as much as possible,” she said. “Nathan and I knew each other several years ago, and we had some problems. I disturbed him when I came to his class Sunday.”
“We have other adult classes if that doesn’t work out. Can’t you and Nathan resolve your differences?”
“I imagine so, but it may take some time.”
Wisely, Elwood let the subject drop. “If I might ask, where are the two of you on your spiritual journey?”
“I’m still a fledgling,” Autumn said. “My parents didn’t go to church, and I was almost twenty when Trina led me to the Lord. The verse in the book of Hebrews that says, ‘you need someone to teach you the elementary truth of God’s word all over again. You need milk,’ describes me exactly. I had to start out like a baby, and it’s been a slow process. I have a long way to go before I reach spiritual maturity.”
“Don’t we all?” Elwood said. “We never reach spiritual perfection in this world, but we can keep praying and striving to become closer to our Lord.”
“I’m trying,” Autumn said, “but I’m never satisfied with my growth.”
Trina patted her on the shoulder. “She’s come a long way, Pastor Elwood.”
He shoved his chair back from the table and stood. “If there’s anything I can do to help either of you, please let me know. Thank Miss Olive for the pie.”
After the pastor prayed and left, Trina asked, “Are you going to the class picnic Saturday?”
“Maybe. It depends on how much work we have to do.” Although she was in the habit of confiding in Trina, Autumn hadn’t told her that she’d spent most of Sunday afternoon with Nathan and had eaten with him last night.
“Dolly wants to go because the Simpson children will be there, so I suppose I’ll go, too. I want her to have a good time this summer. My culinary skills are lacking, as you know, but I can bake a box cake.”
With a laugh, Autumn said, “You won’t have to. Just mention that you and Dolly are going to a picnic, and Miss Olive will prepare something for you to take.”
“I’m afraid we’re taking advantage of that dear woman,” Trina suggested.
“Not at all,” Autumn assured her. “She’s proud of her culinary skills and loves to bake.”
Saturday morning, Trina was sick with a stomach virus, too weak from vomiting to get out of bed. When Autumn got up, Olive was fluttering around giving her medications. “It’s a twenty-four-hour virus,” Olive said. “Lots of people are sick now.”
“I can’t be sick that long,” Trina moaned. “I’ve promised to take Dolly to the picnic. This would have to happen when we’ve got a full schedule.”
“Don’t worry about the work,” Autumn assured her. “I’ll handle the morning office calls and take care of the home visits this afternoon. You’ll be better by then.”
But when Autumn closed the office at noon, Dolly drooped, sniffing, on the back porch step. Autumn sat beside her.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Autumn said, gently tugging her long brown hair.
“Aunt Trina is still sick. I can’t go to the picnic.”
“Maybe you can hitch a ride with the pastor and his wife.”
Dolly shook her head. “I’ve already asked. Pastor Elwood is making a hospital visit in Chillicothe and might not be back in time for the picnic. Mrs. Donahue isn’t going.”
Autumn went upstairs and looked in on Trina, who sat on the side of the bed, head in her hands.
“I thought I could make it, Autumn, but every time I sit up, my head whirls.”
“I’ll drop Dolly off at Woodbeck Farm while I’m making my vet calls, and then go back to pick her up later,” Autumn offered.
“That will be okay, if you don’t mind. I’ll ask Sandy to look out for her. I’ll tell Dolly to watch for you and be ready when you drive by to pick her up. I appreciate it.” She lifted her head and peered at Autumn. “It might be a good idea for you to attend the picnic anyway.”
“And again, it might not be a good idea.”
Autumn had a call to vaccinate a couple of 4-H sheep a few miles from Greensboro, so she took care of that right after lunch. It was almost three o’clock when she got back to the Wheeler home. Olive came down the walk carrying a picnic hamper and Dolly pranced at her side.
“Miss Olive fixed cookies and a pot of baked beans,” Dolly said. Olive set the basket on the floor of the cab, and Dolly hopped into the seat.
“Mmm, they sure smell good,” Autumn said. “I hope she saved some for me.”
Olive handed her a bag of coconut macaroons. “Here’s something for you to munch on,” she said, and added, meeting Autumn’s eyes in a piercing gaze, “I think you should go to the picnic.”
“Too busy, Miss Olive. Ray isn’t paying me to neglect his customers. I’m going forty miles out in the country to a turkey farm. The farmer thinks his flock is taking coccidiosis, and I’m going to administer a round of sulfa drugs.”
“Harrumph!” was Olive’s only answer, and she turned toward the house as Autumn drove away.
“What’s ‘cockadosis’?” Dolly stumbled over the big word as Autumn picked up speed.
“It’s an intestinal disease caused by a parasite, sort of like what Trina has.”
“Poor turkeys!” Dolly said.
“You might save some of your pity for me. I won’t have a pleasant afternoon. The farmer has a big flock of turkeys.”
Sandy and Debbie were watching for them when Autumn pulled into Nathan’s driveway. Autumn handed the picnic basket to Sandy.
“Thanks for looking after her, Sandy. Trina is still very sick. What time should I come after Dolly?”
“Anytime after seven o’clock will be okay,” Sandy said. “Wish you could stay.”
Waving to Dolly, Autumn released the break on the pickup and drove away, not even looking around to see if Nathan knew she was there.
Nathan stood in front of the barn, directing his guests to a hickory nut grove a quarter of a mile away on the creek bank where tables and chairs had been set up for the picnic. Disappointed, his eyes followed the white vet truck until it was out of sight. Although he’d seen her several times this week, he’d looked forward to seeing Autumn again.
When Dolly and the Simpsons gathered around him, he said to Dolly in an offhand manner, “You came all by yourself, huh?”
“Yes. Aunt Trina is sick and Autumn had to work. She’s going to stop for me when she gets finished.”
Ignoring the guests around him, Nathan watched Dolly walk toward the creek, suddenly struck by the many physical characteristics he shared with the girl. If Autumn and I had gotten married, we could have a daughter like that, he thought. He shook his head to erase what might have been.
Although he’d resented the Weavers’ determination to keep him and Autumn apart, a marriage between them would probably have ended in disaster. They were too young. There were too many differences in their cultural backgrounds. Autumn had never wanted for anything. He’d never had all he wanted or needed. The gulf between them had narrowed considerably when he’d inherited Woodbeck Farm, but were their circumstances similar enough now that he could start dreaming again?
Autumn drove into the barnyard at Woodbeck Farm promptly at seven o’clock, but the place looked deserted. Had the guests already gone home and she’d missed Dolly? There were lots of parked cars so she decided
they must still be at the picnic area. Two men she’d seen at Community Chapel came around the corner of the barn, and she stepped out of the truck and approached them.
Replying to her query, one of them said, “Nathan took the guests on a hayride, but they’ll be back soon. The wagon was crowded so we stayed behind. We’ve been down in the pasture looking at Nathan’s Belgian horse.”
“Oh, I didn’t know he had horses.”
“Just the one, I think.”
She still had some work to do, and Autumn knew she should leave and come back for Dolly later, but she found herself walking toward the field the man had indicated. Grazing a short distance from the fence was a filly, her coat glimmering as brilliant as a sunset. The Belgian lifted her majestic head and looked at Autumn suspiciously.
Keeping her ears open for the sound of the returning tractor, Autumn took a handful of grain from the bucket hanging on the post, climbed up on the board fence, and whistled to the animal. The filly was still skeptical of the stranger, but Autumn cajoled her in the soft tones she’d learned to employ when working with her father’s draft horses. Sniffing at Autumn’s outstretched arm, the animal picked her way gingerly across the green grass, stretched her neck and nibbled the oats from Autumn’s hand. Autumn laid her hand on the filly’s shoulder. The animal switched her tail and quivered slightly, but Autumn slipped her arms around the filly’s neck and buried her face in the soft mane.
“Oh, you’re a beauty!”
Wondering how well the filly was trained, Autumn took hold of the halter, tugged gently and led the animal around the paddock a few times. The past returned like a tidal wave as she recalled her youth on Indian Creek Farm and the days she’d spent with their Belgians before Clara decided Autumn had to become a lady.
Engrossed in the pleasurable interlude, Autumn was oblivious to the passage of time and what was happening around her. She didn’t realize that she was no longer alone until the filly snorted and threw up her head. Nathan leaned on the gate watching her! How long had he been there?
Slowly, she led the filly to the gate, picked up a curry comb and started grooming the animal’s flanks.
“I know enough about training horses to know I shouldn’t have bothered her without your permission, Nathan, but I couldn’t resist.” Without looking at him, she added, “I miss the Belgians so much. I’ve never gotten over having to leave them behind.” He opened the gate, entered the paddock and she handed him the curry comb. “I shouldn’t have been trespassing.”
“It’s all right, Autumn,” he said quietly.
“How long have you had her?”
“She’s about two years old. I bought her a year ago from a farmer in Indiana. She’s almost ready to enter competition. I bought an old cart, and I hope I can restore it in time to use it for some shows later on this year.”
Forgetting her resolve to go slow with Nathan, Autumn said, “If you’re pressed for time, I’d love to help you.” She patted the Belgian’s sleek rump. “I’m so happy you have the filly, Nathan. I remember your dream to own some Belgians. My grandfather started with one animal, you remember.”
One of my dreams, Nathan thought, as she stopped petting the animal and turned away reluctantly.
“I could use some help with the filly, if you have any time, Autumn. And with repairing the cart, too. I know you’ve had a lot of experience with horses.”
“I’ll find time to help you,” she cried eagerly. “It will be relaxation for me.”
“I want to be ready to enter her in competition at the county fair. I try to work with the filly every evening after supper, but I haven’t started on the cart. Come anytime you want to.”
“Great! I’ll be here so much you’ll get tired of my company.”
“I doubt that,” he said meaningfully, and his expression brought a blush to Autumn’s cheeks.
“I’ll have to go,” she said. “I suppose the children are back from the hayride now.”
“Yes. Dolly was looking for you and someone told her you were in the pasture. I came to get you.”
He closed the gate, and Autumn peered through the bars for a last look at the Belgian. As they returned to the barnyard, she knew the tension between them had lessened considerably. Perhaps their mutual love for draft horses was another tie to bring them together.
God, if only this moment could last forever, Autumn prayed. The past is gone—nothing matters except that we’re together.
The barnyard was almost empty of vehicles when they rounded the corner of the barn. Pastor Elwood and Dolly sat on the house steps.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I delayed you, Pastor, but thanks for waiting with Dolly.”
“It was a pleasure,” the pastor said. He rose lazily from the step. “Now I have to go home and study my sermon for tomorrow. Thanks for hosting this picnic, Nathan. Everyone enjoyed it. Sorry I was late getting here.”
The pastor drove away and Nathan lifted Olive’s picnic basket into the cab of the truck. He helped Dolly negotiate the high step while Autumn slid under the steering wheel.
“Thanks, Mr. Holland,” Dolly said. “I had a good time. We don’t have farms in Wisconsin.”
“I doubt the Wisconsin dairymen would appreciate that remark,” Autumn said with a laugh. “You’d better say, there aren’t any farms in Milwaukee.”
Dolly shrugged her shoulders. “Well, whatever, but I’ve never been on a farm like this before.”
Nathan closed the door beside Dolly and stood looking in the open window. He wanted to tell Autumn how much he’d enjoyed talking to her, but he couldn’t find the words.
“Oh, I forgot to ask,” she said. “What’s the filly’s name?”
“It’s not as original as the name you chose for yours. I call her Beauty.”
“That’s a fine name. It fits her.”
“That’s what came into my mind the first time I saw her.”
“I think it’s a wonderful name. You’re on your way, Nathan. You’ll soon have several horses.”
Chapter Nine
Usually Dolly’s chatter amused Autumn, but tonight as she rattled on about the picnic, Autumn wished for peace and quiet. She needed time to think about the subtle change taking place between her and Nathan. She couldn’t settle her mind while Dolly talked a mile a minute. When they arrived at the clinic, Autumn carried the picnic basket into the kitchen and asked Olive about Trina.
“She’s a lot better now.”
“Any calls?”
“No. The telephone hasn’t rung all afternoon.”
“I have to leave now, but I won’t be gone more than an hour.”
Autumn drove out of town, heading east on a gravel road, without any destination in mind. When she came to a path that led to Indian Creek, she pulled to the side of the road and parked the pickup, walked to a secluded part of the creek and stared at the rippling stream flowing by.
She wanted to savor again the meetings she’d had with Nathan this week. They’d shared a closeness, a completeness different from before. Could it be a new beginning for them? This afternoon, he’d been the Nathan she’d dreamed about for years—kind, compassionate, friendly. If she stayed on as Ray’s assistant, could they overcome disagreements of the past and make a new beginning?
God, she prayed, for some reason, the alienation I’ve had from Nathan has prevented a close fellowship with You. Truth of the matter, I’m all mixed up in my mind. My yearning for Nathan often conflicts with my commitment to You. Help me to make decisions that will be right for Nathan and me. I believe he wants my companionship. And what about my parents? Am I the one who’s been wrong all this time? Am I the one to make restitution? I need Your guidance now more than I’ve ever needed it. Help! Amen.
Autumn walked slowly to the truck and drove into Greensboro in the twilight. She wanted to go to Nathan again tonight and talk out her frustrations. Had she read too much into his friendliness the past week? Perhaps he’d been so kind this afternoon because he hosted the picnic, and he was exh
ibiting his company manners. Her heart was too tender from his kindness to withstand a rejection so she stopped at the clinic and entered the week’s work into the computer records. She’d wait a few days before she went out to the farm. She’d learned one thing from past mistakes. Move slowly.
She had an emergency at the clinic the next morning, so she missed his Sunday school class, but she did go for the worship service. Nathan smiled at her across the sanctuary, and her heart skipped a beat. At the close of the service, he came to her side and shook hands with her.
“I missed you in class this morning. Trina said you’d had an emergency. Everything go okay?”
She nodded happily. “The case wasn’t too serious. A cat with distemper, which could have waited until tomorrow. But the owners were worried.”
Sandy stopped by them. “Trina said that Miss Olive went visiting today, so I invited her and Dolly to the farm for a cookout. Why don’t the two of you come, too? Tony’s going home with a friend, so, Nathan, you can keep Ralph company in an otherwise all-female gathering.”
Nathan looked at Autumn.
“I loafed last Sunday while Trina stayed on call, so it’s my turn to work if necessary. I’d like to come, but I’ll have to bring the telephone.”
“Thanks, Sandy. I’ll come, too,” Nathan said.
“It won’t be anything fancy,” Sandy warned them in her breezy manner. “Hot dogs, hamburgers and the fixins’.”
“Sounds great,” Autumn assured her. “Anything you want us to bring?”
“Just an appetite.”
At the Wheeler home, Autumn changed into a pair of green cotton shorts, white knit shirt and a pair of brown sandals. She pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a wide green band. The thought of sharing a meal with Nathan exhilarated her, and happiness shone from her eyes when she took a last look in the mirror. Trina and Dolly were already in the car waiting for her.
The weather had turned hot and dry, and the shade of the widespread oak tree in the Simpson yard was welcome. Ralph carried several lawn chairs from the porch of the two-story farmhouse. He lit the gas grill and spread hot dogs and hamburgers on it. Autumn and Trina helped Sandy carry out the other food—bread, potato chips, cole slaw, melon balls, condiments for the sandwiches and a large chocolate cake. The aroma of cooking meat tantalized Autumn’s appetite, and she remembered that she’d only taken time for a slice of toast and coffee that morning.
