Autumn's Awakening

by Irene Brand

  Autumn picked up the raffia from a table and prepared the two stick-ups for the tail, then she proceeded to use a four-plait braid, two strands of hair and two of raffia. She checked to be sure the two stick-ups were even in height and square across the tail. When the stick-ups were braided and wrapped tightly into a small fan shape, she arranged the tail in an ordinary three-plait braid. She ended by placing a narrow ribbon bow on the stick-up at the base of the fan and stood back to survey her work.

  “That looks wonderful, Autumn. Thanks.”

  “Thank you for letting me help you. This was only a practice session, but it’s good to know I haven’t forgotten how to decorate horses,” Autumn said with gratification. “I’ll be at the fair grounds tomorrow in time to get her ready for showing,” she said, patting the Belgian’s broad rump.

  Nathan had marveled at Autumn’s dexterity. He’d failed to appreciate Autumn in the past. The woman had a rare skill with horses, a trait inherited from the Weavers before her. He couldn’t understand why her father was so unforgiving, unwilling to bring her home to give him the help he needed. But on the other hand, was he any different from Landon Weaver? He kept rebuffing Autumn, when it was obvious what a tremendous helpmate she’d be for any man who wanted to raise and show draft horses.

  Autumn stood on the stool and put her arms around Beauty’s neck. “She’s well-named. She is a beauty. I hope you win.”

  After securing Beauty in a stall, Nathan said, “Come sit on the porch before you leave. What do you want to drink?”

  “A cola sounds good.”

  Twilight fell around them as they sat in two huge rockers.

  “I’ve promised Dolly that we’ll spend the whole day at the fair. She’s a nice kid, and I’ll miss her when Trina takes her back to Wisconsin. Trina’s fiancé is coming to collect them next week.”

  Nathan took her glass and set it beside his on the wicker table beside his chair. The stillness of the night was broken by the creak of their rockers as they weaved back and forth in rhythm and by the low bawl of a calf and the cacophony of myriad insects.

  Nathan moved his chair closer to Autumn and reached for her hand. “At first, you were sorry you’d come home. What about now?”

  He caressed her hand with his strong fingers, and she lifted both of their hands together and kissed his, wondering how such a powerful hand could be so comforting.

  “No. I’m not sorry I came home.”

  They sat in silence, savoring the quietness and coolness of the night, enjoying being together. When she reluctantly made a move to leave, Nathan walked to the car with her.

  “I’m happy you came back to Greensboro, too. My memories of you were fading. I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoyed being with you. It’s like meeting you for the first time. I mentioned several days ago that God wants us to look to the future rather than the past. I’m beginning to think it’s not only possible, but God’s will for us to make a new beginning.”

  Her pulse raced, and she searched his eyes in the soft glow from the dusk-to-dawn light, observing the same yearning she felt. He wants me, she thought, but he’s afraid. He’s reluctant to risk being hurt again. God willing, she’d never disappoint him, but how could he know that?

  “I don’t know why not,” she said evenly, although she was ready to bridge the gap in one quick leap. Her heart cried out, we’ve only got a few more weeks, but she couldn’t rush him this time. She had to give him time to learn he could trust her.

  Nathan kissed her long and ardently, whispering terms of endearment he’d dreamed of saying during the years they’d been separated. Releasing her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He wanted to keep her with him forever, but now wasn’t the time to tell her so. He opened the car door, and after she started the engine, he leaned in the open window and kissed her again.

  Nathan’s caresses had done wonders for Autumn’s confidence, and she dared to believe that she and Nathan, like the mythical phoenix, could build a future on the ashes of their past mistakes.

  That night Ray telephoned from Israel, and Autumn was surprised to hear his voice when she answered.

  “Hi. How are things going?” he asked.

  “More than you’d want to hear over the telephone. And by the way, I have a quarrel to pick with you! You got me back to Greensboro under false pretenses,” she accused.

  “Not at all,” Ray protested. “Everything I told you was true.”

  “But it’s what you didn’t tell me that caused the problem. Would you believe that my first call was to Woodbeck Farm, and I had no idea about the change in ownership until I encountered Nathan out in his pasture? You’re one of the few people who knew how I felt about Nathan, so you should have forewarned me.”

  “If I’d told you he was living in the neighborhood, would you have returned?

  “Probably not.”

  “That’s the reason I didn’t tell you. How are things working out between you and Nathan? And with your parents? I hate seeing people I like and respect being miserable. This seemed like a good opportunity to get you back together. Has it worked?”

  “I’ve only seen Daddy once when he passed me on the street and wouldn’t speak to me. Mother has demanded my presence at the farm twice when Daddy was away, but she’s still angry at me. As for Nathan, I’m beginning to hope.”

  “The summer isn’t over yet.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “A little longer than we’d expected, but we’re scheduled to return to Chicago in three weeks. Do you think you can hang on until then?”

  “What other choice do I have?”

  “None,” he said, with a laugh. “Let me talk to Olive. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  Ray’s telephone call had alerted Autumn, and she wasn’t sleepy. She got into bed and picked up her Bible. Turning on the radio beside her bed, she listened to the words of a song she hadn’t heard before.

  If our memories would span the past,

  And keep love’s light aglow;

  Would they build a bridge of love,

  So the future we might know?

  Was love the only thing that could bridge the wide chasm separating her from the people she loved? Autumn’s knowledge of the Bible was still scanty, but in her most desperate days during the separation from her family, she had learned to rely for comfort on the words from Paul’s writings, often referred to as the Love chapter in the Apostle’s first letter to the Corinthians.

  Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

  She sincerely believed that she had enough of that kind of love for her parents and Nathan to build the bridge that would join them together, but she could only build part of the structure. The loved ones she’d wronged would have to meet her halfway.

  Autumn had read the newspapers during the weeks she’d been at the clinic, always pleased with the occasional news that the Belgian horses from Indian Creek Farm had won many trophies. She had no doubt that the Weaver horses would be big winners at the fair today, but she did hope Nathan would receive some recognition.

  When she and Dolly entered the fairgrounds, Autumn glanced nostalgically at the covered tents and trailers of the food vendors, at the excited children who ran from one exhibit to another, and at the 4-H members grooming their animals for showing. Music wafting from the carnival area invigorated her steps as she pointed out to Dolly all the pleasures she’d once enjoyed.

  She avoided the area where the Weaver horses were being groomed for competition. Checking the schedule, and noting that Nathan would be showing in a couple of hours, Autumn said, “Let’s see if we can find Nathan. I’ve promised to help him prepare Beauty.”

  “All right,” Dolly said. “Will I be allowed to pet your daddy’s
big horses?”

  “Not today. You’ll have to content yourself with petting Beauty. It’s better if we don’t bother the others while they’re getting ready for competition, but Nathan won’t mind our company.”

  Autumn didn’t know how much Dolly understood about the problem with her parents. She and Trina had never discussed the situation in Dolly’s presence, but the girl was intelligent. She picked up more than they expected.

  “That’s all right,” Dolly agreed. “I like Mr. Holland.”

  Tony Simpson was helping Nathan, and they’d spaced themselves a good distance from the Weaver operations. Nathan was gently smoothing the filly’s glossy coat with a curry comb.

  “Hi, Mr. Holland. We came to watch you in the show.” Dolly shouted when she saw him.

  He looked up and smiled at Dolly, but his eyes met Autumn’s, and she noted the concern in his gaze.

  “Good. I’ll need all the support I can get. I’m getting nervous.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” Autumn assured him. “That cart is as acceptable as the expensive one Daddy has, and Beauty looks great. As soon as I get the braiding finished, she’ll be in the same class as any Weaver horse. And I’m not telling you that to make you feel good. I mean it.”

  “Next to your father, I’d trust your judgment about draft horses more than anyone else. That’s not what worries me. The horse’s performance depends on the driver. I’m not sure I’m capable of handling her.” He looked directly in her eyes. “I don’t want to make a botch of this before your father. I’d like to do something that would cause him to respect me.”

  Autumn realized that her father’s denunciation of him as an individual and a prospective suitor for her had wounded Nathan deeply. She found it hard to forgive her father for that. Was that why Nathan hesitated to resume their relationship? Did he still want to earn Landon Weaver’s respect and permission before he claimed his daughter?

  “Forget Daddy for the moment. All you have to do when you’re competing is to win the approval of the judges. I have confidence in you. You’ll be great in showmanship.”

  “I hate to ask you because you’ve already been such a help, but will you do me another favor, Autumn? I’d like for you and Dolly to ride with me in the cart. If you’re with me, I won’t feel so alone.”

  Dolly clapped her hands. “Let’s do, Autumn. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

  Autumn wondered how it would affect her father to see her riding with the man he disliked and resented, but she had to consider Nathan now. Once she’d turned from him to stay with her father. She wouldn’t put Nathan in second place again. She looked down at her jeans and blue-plaid shirt.

  “I’m not dressed in the Weaver tradition for competition, and that seat is a little short for three people, but why not? I’d love to, Nathan.”

  “I’d let you drive if I wasn’t registered in the men’s division. You’d do a better job than I will.”

  She shook her head. “Not with a horse I haven’t handled much. The driver has to know the mare and she has to know you. But Dolly and I will ride along.”

  Nathan handed Tony five dollars. “Tony, you and Dolly go buy something to eat and drink. Autumn needs to concentrate on what she’s doing.”

  “My mom wants me to come to the 4-H building in an hour,” Tony said, “so I’ll bring Dolly back before that.”

  By the time Autumn had finishing braiding Beauty’s mane and tail, a loudspeaker blared out the announcement that the cart competition would start in fifteen minutes.

  Nathan felt the tension leave his body. With Autumn beside him, he didn’t have anything to fear. “Help me hitch Beauty to the cart.”

  Not until they were seated in the refurbished cart with Dolly between them did Autumn realize how much like family they appeared. Dolly’s animated gray eyes resembled Nathan’s, and he must have thought the same thing. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Autumn supposed this would refuel the rumor that Dolly was their daughter. Perhaps when Trina took Dolly back to Wisconsin in a few days, the talk would die down.

  “I hope you win, Mr. Holland,” Dolly said.

  “I’m not expecting to win. This is a tryout to prepare Beauty and me for future public appearances. Next year, I’ll be serious about winning.”

  The past came back to Autumn as they circled the large field under the eyes of the judges, waving to the spectators crowding the fence and sitting in the bleachers. Summer stood beside the fence, and Dolly said, “There’s Summer. Hi,” she called, and Summer waved to them.

  “Give me any advice you can,” Nathan said, but he didn’t need much coaching, for he had a masterful hand with the mare that reminded Autumn of her father. She was elated when Beauty came in second place to the Indian Creek Farm performance. It hurt a little that Jeff Smith drove the cart that won first place, especially since the cart was pulled by her own mare, Noel.

  Forgive me my sins as I forgive those who sin against me, she prayed.

  After Nathan stabled his mare, the three of them hurried to the bleachers to watch the Draft Horse Six-Hitch competition. Summer, dressed in a white party dress, sat beside her father when the shining black wagon pulled by six Weaver Belgians circled the ring. Moisture misted Autumn’s eyes, and she could hardly see for a few moments. She blinked away the tears to watch as Landon exhibited all of the showmanship he’d learned through the years. Nathan reached for Autumn’s hand and she clutched his fingers gratefully. He must realize how it hurt that she couldn’t take her rightful place on the wagon with Summer.

  “He hasn’t lost his touch, has he?” Nathan said in admiration of the only man in the community who wouldn’t speak to him.

  Autumn nodded her head. Her throat was too tight for words when Landon pulled his six-hitch winners to a halt before the judges’ stand and received the first place trophy. Summer’s eyes searched the crowd until she saw her sister, and Autumn sensed the compassion Summer had for her.

  Dolly took Nathan’s hand when they left the bleachers, and he said, “Since you and Autumn helped me win a trophy, the least I can do is to buy your lunch. How about a hamburger and some fries?”

  “I’m hungry,” Dolly said, with a worried glance at Autumn’s woebegone face.

  “Sounds good to me, too,” Autumn said, forcing a smile.

  Putting aside her thoughts of the days when she’d reveled over Indian Creek Farm’s achievements, Autumn enjoyed Nathan’s company as he bought their lunch, which they sat on the ground to eat. Later, he went with them to the carnival and won a stuffed bear for Dolly at the shooting gallery.

  “Thanks for being so good to Dolly, Nathan. She misses a father’s influence. Her mother does well, but a child needs two parents.”

  “I haven’t forgotten those few years after my father died,” he said. “It’s difficult growing up without a father.”

  Dolly ran ahead of them to stand in line by the Ferris wheel, and he said quietly, “Have you ever thought that if we’d made different decisions years ago, we might have had a daughter like her?”

  Autumn wouldn’t meet his eyes. “More than once.”

  Squeezing her hand, he said, “Maybe it still isn’t too late.”

  She glanced at him, wondering if he trusted her now, but she didn’t get to find out, for Dolly was with them the rest of the afternoon. She didn’t have a private moment with Nathan until she and Dolly left the fairgrounds, and he went to load his horse and equipment to return to the farm.

  Hoping to sleep late the following Sunday morning, Autumn received a call about seven o’clock to care for a dalmatian that had been hit by a car. She was so despondent when she couldn’t save the dog that she didn’t go to Sunday school. She drove out into the country where she walked for an hour. Although Trina was a good encourager, when Autumn was depressed the need to be with her father was so keen that she nearly suffocated.

  When she was a child, just a few minutes with Landon could calm all her fears and problems, so she wanted her Daddy now, but h
e didn’t want her. Nathan would understand the pain she felt when she couldn’t save an animal, couldn’t give hope to a family who’d lost a beloved pet, but she wasn’t going to bother him when he had a class to teach. She went home and dressed for worship, hoping she could spend the rest of the day with Nathan. Now that the fair competition was finished, she didn’t know what excuse she’d have for going to Woodbeck Farm so often.

  She entered the building just as Bible classes were dismissed, and she encountered Sandy and Ralph Simpson with Nathan in the foyer.

  Sandy rushed to her and embraced her. “Our horse is doing great. We’ve brought him home, and the surgeon believes the horse will fully recover.”

  Autumn hadn’t seen Ralph since she’d treated the racehorse, and he shook hands with her. “We owe you, Doc Weaver,” he said, his broad face wreathed in a smile. “The surgeon told us that your treatment and decision to send the horse to him are what kept us from losing the animal.”

  “Thanks for telling me that. I wish all my cases could turn out so well,” she answered.

  Nathan must have detected her discouragement, for he drew her aside. “What’s happened?”

  “I had an early-morning surgery on a family pet dog that had been hit by a car. I did everything I could do, but it wasn’t enough. I haven’t been able to get the little girl’s grief out of my mind.”

  Nathan laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Try to think of the many people you have helped, like the Simpsons,” he said. “You’re a good vet, Autumn, so don’t doubt yourself.”

  Elwood’s sermon text was “Forgiveness,” and when he read the text, “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother, then come and offer your gift.”

  While Elwood delivered his message, Autumn thought of the people she had wronged when she was a girl. Instead of getting mad at Nathan because he wasn’t as fond of her as she was of him, she should have been sensitive to his struggle to make a place for himself on Indian Creek Farm to alleviate his poor economic situation. Under the circumstances, she felt she was justified in leaving Greensboro, but instead of running away without a word to her parents, she should have talked to them or at least have left a note explaining why she had to leave.