by Irene Brand
Stopping at a deli in the shopping center, Autumn ordered cheese and turkey subs with all the trimmings, cole slaw, baked beans, apples, cheesecake, and a container of tea with lots of ice. Today’s heat had about parched her throat, and she was thirsty.
When she arrived at Woodbeck Farm, there was no sign of Nathan. His truck was parked in front of the house, so he probably hadn’t come out of the fields for the night. She went to the paddock behind the barn and tried to make friends with Beauty, but the filly lifted her proud head, ignored Autumn and continued to graze on the far side of the field.
She heard the steady hum of a tractor on the other side of the creek. If Nathan intended to work until dark, the food would spoil. She went to her car and took the deli bags and headed in his direction. A narrow foot bridge provided passage to the other side of the creek and she saw Nathan’s tractor coming toward her. He was baling hay, and she inhaled deeply of the pungent aroma of new-mowed alfalfa.
She set the bag of food on the ground, waited in the shade until he was near where she stood. When the baler dropped one huge round bale of hay behind it, she stepped out of the shadows cast by the lowering sun disappearing behind silver-lined thunderheads in the west. Nathan didn’t see her at first, but when he did, startled, he braked and stopped. Jumping from the tractor, he ran toward her and grabbed her in his arms.
Momentarily, she sensed that he smelled of sweat and diesel fuel, but what did it matter? She lifted her arms and flicked back the brim of his straw hat so she could have a full view of his face. His gray eyes glowed with pleasure. He was happy to see her! He’d made the first move, so she hooked her arms around his neck and snuggled into his embrace. Happiness burst from her in a quiet, quavery laugh. Her blue eyes offered an invitation.
Nathan lifted one hand and pulled the band from her hair and loosened her hair by threading the curly tresses with his fingers. He drew her face closer to his. With the first touch of his lips, Autumn’s eyes closed and as his kiss intensified, she experienced a symphony of sensations. Exultation. Joy. Pain. Sorrow. Peace. Happiness.
When she thought her heart would burst with emotion, Autumn broke the caress and leaned her head on Nathan’s muscular shoulder, sensing the dampness of his sweat-soaked shirt on her face. His arms tightened until she could barely breathe as his lips slid down the side of her face to her throat, nibbling her ear on the way by. They’d bridged eight long years in a few blissful moments.
Half laughing, half crying, Autumn murmured, “Oh, Nathan!”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. When I looked up and saw you standing there, I couldn’t believe you were real. I had to get you in my arms to be sure you weren’t a mirage.”
“I’d left a message on your answering machine that I’d come out this evening and bring food. When I got to your house, I heard the tractor running, so I headed this way. Perhaps I shouldn’t have interrupted your work.”
Nathan had intended to work late tonight to finish baling the hay before it rained. Without a glance at the lowering clouds to the west, he released Autumn, went to the tractor and turned off the engine.
“Forget the work! I’m hungry for food and you. Let’s eat.” He knew later on he’d have second thoughts about letting a field of hay get wet and tell himself he was still too poor a man to pursue a relationship with Autumn. But he saved those warnings for the long night hours when he lay awake with his memories of Autumn, knowing he had to be content with those. Savoring her response to his kisses, did he dare hope there was a future for them?
Autumn picked up the bag of food. “Why don’t we eat here? Then you can go back to work, and I’ll go home.” She picked up a handful of alfalfa and sniffed. “This hay is too good to risk getting it wet. I thought we could work on the cart tonight, but this hay is more important.”
“Not many women would be aware of that. But you’re Landon Weaver’s daughter and you’d have learned a lot from him.”
He took a cushion off the tractor’s seat and dropped it on the ground for Autumn. As she spread out the food, he thought what a great wife she’d make for a farmer. But he couldn’t think that far yet. It would be years before he’d be out of debt.
She handed him a cup of iced tea, and he drank it greedily. He lounged on one elbow and noticed how neat she looked compared to his dirty, sweat-stained clothes. There was a dark smudge on her pink T-shirt, and he was sure it hadn’t been there before he’d hugged her.
Grinning tenderly at her, he said, “Sorry I got your T-shirt dirty. Should I apologize for grabbing you so unceremoniously, dirt and all?”
“No apology needed sir,” she replied with a grin.
He straightened when she placed his food on a napkin and handed it to him.
“Say! This food is good,” he said, making short work of the sub.
“The best Martin’s Deli has to offer.”
“What kind of cook are you?” he asked with a grin.
“I have no idea. I’ve never had a chance to find out. Mrs. Hayes and Mother did all the cooking at home. Miss Olive waits on us hand and foot. And when I was in vet school, it was cheaper and faster to eat in the cafeteria. I did learn a lot about opening soup cans though.”
He finished the rest of his food and stretched out on the ground, hands behind his head. Autumn packed all the utensils and papers into the bag and sat close to him. She patted her legs. “Want a more comfortable pillow?” she invited.
He rolled closer to her and rested his head on her knees. She pushed his damp hair back from his face and brushed soft fingers across the roughness of his beard.
“I haven’t shaved for a couple of days,” he said, “as you can probably tell. I’ve been working day and night to get this hay baled. I rented the baler, and I want to return it as soon as possible.”
“Then I should leave and let you get back to work.”
“Not just yet. I’ll rest a while. I only have another hour’s work, and according to the weather report, the storm won’t arrive until late tonight.”
She wiped his sweaty face with a napkin.
“I saw Daddy this morning.”
“And?”
“I spoke to him and he walked by as if he hadn’t seen me.” Her lips trembled. “If heartache was fatal, I think I’d have died right then. I suppose I’ve always held out hope that he wasn’t really mad at me. I don’t doubt it now.”
Nathan’s lips tightened, and he took her hand and kissed her fingers. “He has no right to treat you that way.”
“I suppose he thinks he does. But it hurt. I was almost sorry I’d come home and I wanted to leave.”
Nathan’s grip tightened. “But you won’t?”
“No. I’ve stopped running away. I’ll stay until Ray gets home as I promised. After that, I can’t tell.”
“I don’t want you to leave, but that’s all I can say now.”
Autumn leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I don’t want to leave either, but I don’t know how I’ll feel when I have to make that decision. Right now, I’m going back to Greensboro so you can go to work.”
He unlimbered his sturdy frame, stood and stretched.
“Thanks for breaking the monotony of this long day, Autumn. I’ve been working here since daylight, and I hadn’t eaten any lunch.”
“Is there anything I can do at the barn before I leave?”
“Well, since you asked, you might check to see if Beauty has enough grain, and put some hay down for the two cattle I have in the barn. They’ve been sick, and I want to be sure they don’t have anything contagious.”
“Consider it done.”
Nathan pulled her into his arms again, and he marveled at how well she fit into his embrace. Could Autumn Weaver be his for the asking? Did he dare hope again?
Chapter Twelve
Saturday morning, the clinic phone rang and Trina answered.
“Just a minute,” she said, and rolling her eyes with a hand on her heart, she handed the phone to Autumn.
&
nbsp; From Trina’s actions, Autumn figured the caller was Nathan, and she smiled as she answered.
“I’m going to an auction this afternoon,” Nathan said. “Want to go along?”
“Sure do. What time?”
“The auction doesn’t start until two o’clock, but I want to be early. There’s a hay baler for sale, and I want to look it over before I bid on it. What time can you leave?”
“We close the clinic at noon.” Trina was making frantic, waving gestures at her, which Autumn took to mean, she was to go sooner than that. “But I can leave early. You set the hour.”
“It’s a thirty-minute drive, so if we leave a little before noon, I’d have plenty of time. We can eat at the auction.”
“I’ll be ready. Thanks, Nathan.”
When Autumn replaced the phone, Trina lifted her clenched fist in a victory salute. “Yes! Where are you going?”
“To a farm auction.”
“A farm auction!” Trina groaned. “That’s not very romantic.”
Autumn laughed from sheer joy. “I doubt if Nathan is in a romantic mood. He’s going to buy a hay baler and that is a big decision for him. He’s short of money, and the baler may cost more than he can afford.”
Trina gave a sigh of resignation. “At least he’s invited you to go someplace. Maybe that will be the start of something.”
“Something has already started. We only have to decide how it’s going to end.”
“An auction!” Trina muttered, shaking her head. “At least, go and dress in something romantic. I can take care of things here.”
“I’ll shower and change clothes, but I won’t look any different than I do now. People wear jeans and shirts to auctions. We’re in farm country, Trina.”
After she washed and dried her hair, Autumn started to brush it away from her face and neck to the top of her head, but she paused with the brush in her hand. She shook her hair free. Nathan had never said, but she knew he liked her hair loose around her shoulders. As thick as her hair was, she was uncomfortable on hot days, but she could stand a little discomfort to make Nathan’s eyes light up.
Which they did when he stopped before the Wheeler home. Autumn came down the walk to meet him, wearing a blue shirt and lightweight denims. He opened the door for her.
“Don’t ever cut your hair, Autumn. I like it that way.”
She laughed at him and lightly pinched his arm through his denim shirt as he pulled away from the curb.
“If I didn’t cut my hair, I’d be sitting on it in a few years.” She pushed back his wide-brimmed hat. “What if I asked you not to cut your hair?”
“That’s different,” he insisted. “I like your hair that way.”
“I know you do, and so do I, but it has to be trimmed occasionally, or I’d look like a red tumbleweed. I wore it down to my shoulders today because I wanted to please you. Isn’t that enough to satisfy you?”
“Yeah,” he assured her with a lazy smirk. “So that will be the least of my worries today.”
“What’s worrying you?”
He handed her a sale bill. “I don’t know how much I can afford to pay for that baler if I buy it. Read the description and tell me what you think.”
“If you brought me along to advise you on this piece of equipment, you wasted your time. Horses, I know. I don’t have any knowledge of machinery.”
“That wasn’t the reason I invited you.”
“Do I dare ask why?”
“I hadn’t seen you for a couple of days.”
“I guess that’s reason enough. What else are you going to buy besides the baler?”
“Nothing. And I may not buy it. My uncle had lots of machinery, and although most of the pieces are old, I’m getting along with them. But I need to upgrade when I can.”
They followed the sale signs and came to a wide field, filled with automobiles and trucks, and with various pieces of farm machinery grouped next to a large barn.
“Is this just a machinery sale?” Autumn asked.
“No. Turn the sale bill over. There’s quite a lot to buy.”
“I see there are antiques and old glassware. I might buy something for Miss Olive. She’s been very good to us this summer, and I’d like to buy a gift for her.”
“Then I’ll get a card for you so we can keep our bidding separate.”
After they registered and got two numbered cards for bidding purposes, Nathan stopped by a food stand. “The selling will be at the house, but I’ll look at the hay baler and see what I think.” He handed her some money. “Will you buy some food for us while I check out the machinery?”
“What do you want?”
“Whatever you buy, I’ll like.” He arched his eyebrows at her. “You know my tastes pretty well.”
Was he talking about more than food?
She bought hot dogs, wedges of apple pie and large cups of iced tea and waited for him when he returned.
“What do you think of the baler?” she asked as they waded through the trampled grass toward the two-story house.
“It’s in good shape. I’d like to buy it if the price isn’t too high.”
They sat on the grass to eat their lunch, then walked among the tables holding items for sale. Books, dishes, bedding, household equipment and boxes of junk.
“It’s an estate sale,” Nathan explained, “and everything goes. We’re going to be here a long time. Are you in a hurry?”
“Not at all. Stay as long as you like.”
Six hours later, they started home hauling a hay rake behind the truck. Nathan had bid on the hay baler, but when the bids reached ten thousand dollars, he’d had to stop bidding. He also bid on a tractor, but it had sold for more than the hay baler. He’d successfully bid on the hay rake for twenty-eight hundred dollars, but he thought he’d gotten a bargain. As they rattled and bumped over the unpaved road pulling the hay rake behind them, Autumn said, “I’m sorry you didn’t get the baler.”
“Don’t be. I’ve been getting along renting a baler. It would be more convenient to own one, but I don’t have that kind of money. Actually, Autumn, I’m land poor. I own a good farm, but my operating money is limited and it will be for many years. I don’t want to go in debt for machinery if I don’t have to. I had the money to buy the rake, so I’ll be content with it.”
Autumn had bought an antique wooden butter mold for Miss Olive, and a porcelain figure of a Belgian horse for Nathan.
“This horse is a present for you. The only part of your house I’ve seen is the kitchen and bathroom, but you don’t have one decorative item.”
“You know the reason I don’t have knickknacks?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“I don’t want to dust them.”
“You won’t have to dust this one either. I’ll stop by at least once a week to dust it.”
“Yes, but who’s going to do it if you leave Greensboro?”
“That will be your problem,” she said. “And speaking of purchases, you bought two items—very incongruous items, I might add. A hay rake and an empty picture frame.”
“I don’t think they’re incongruous for I need both of them. I have hay to rake and a picture to frame.”
“What kind of a picture?”
“I’ll show you when I get it framed.”
“Do you enjoy sparring with me, Nathan?”
His gray eyes flicked over her face and his lips broadened into a wide smile. “It can be entertaining, but I just like to be with you, Autumn, no matter what we’re doing.”
“Thanks for asking me to go today. It’s been fun.”
Because Nathan needed to get home and take care of his animals, they didn’t stop to eat, but it was already dark when they pulled into the driveway at the clinic. The past ten miles Autumn had sat close to him, her left hand gently massaging his neck.
After giving her a brief, tender kiss, Nathan drove on home, already scheming of some way to see her again soon.
Two days later, Summer telephoned,
and in an amused voice, she said, “Daddy is away for a couple of days and Mother wants you to come for dinner tomorrow night. She said to bring your co-worker and that child with you.”
A royal command, Autumn thought wryly, but she did want Trina to see the farm, and their sojourn in Greensboro was getting shorter all the time.
“All right, we’ll come by six o’clock if we don’t have any emergencies. If so, I’ll telephone.”
Autumn turned to Trina with a half smile on her face. “We have a dinner invitation, and I suppose I should have cleared it with you before I accepted.” She repeated what Summer had said.
Trina laughed. “Of course, we’ll accept! I thought Indian Creek Farm was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen when we came for Bert’s wedding. I’d love to see it again. I can still see you three girls approaching the gazebo on the lawn.”
Dreamily Autumn thought of that tranquil day ten years ago when the farm was arrayed in all its glory, and when she was in the good graces of her parents. Even if Clara hadn’t approved Spring’s marriage to Bert, she’d arranged a beautiful wedding for them.
The wedding procession had been unique. With regal dignity, two Belgian horses, decked out in black harness embellished with silver, pulled a shining black barouche. The horses, magnificent heads held high, tails braided and white manes flowing over their necks, masterfully lifted their large hooves and moved forward in step to a lively rendition of “Trumpet Voluntary,” played with gusto by the five-man band.
Tux-clad Landon Weaver, perched on the high front seat, held the reins of his prize-winning mares. Clara sat beside Spring, a vision of loveliness in snowy white wedding garments. Summer and Autumn were seated on the opposite side, garmented in simple, pastel dresses. Landon had often glanced over his shoulder, and it was difficult to determine the object of his greatest pride. Was it the matched Belgian horses or his three beautiful daughters?
Recalling that day, Autumn wondered how her father could have changed so much?
“I suppose Mother has heard that Dolly looks like Nathan, and she wants to check it out. Wouldn’t you think she would have more faith in her daughter than to suspect me of having an affair? I was only eighteen!”
