Kitabı oku: «Autumn's Awakening»

As Autumn watched Nathan take charge, she compared him to what he’d been when they’d first met.

Then, he’d been less sure of himself. Now he was strong, assured and capable. His eyes met hers and held for a few brief moments. As if he could read her thoughts, he started toward her, paused and turned away.

To hide her confusion, Autumn got some medication for the injured horse.

“You’ve done a good job on this, Autumn. Having the courage to admit you lack expertise in this situation probably saved the horse for a productive future. You’ve done a great job, in my opinion.”

Dropping her gaze, she said, “Thanks. Your opinion is important to me.”

He ignored the children nearby, who looked on with interest, and drew her into his arms.

IRENE BRAND

This prolific and popular author of both contemporary and historical inspirational fiction is a native of West Virginia, where she has lived all her life. She began writing professionally in 1977, after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself full-time to her writing.

In 1984, after she had enjoyed a long career of publishing articles and devotional materials, her first novel was published by Thomas Nelson. Since that time, Irene has published twenty-one contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles with publishers such as Zondervan, Fleming Revell and Barbour Books.

Her extensive travels with her husband, Rod, to forty-nine of the United States and thirty-two foreign countries, have inspired much of her writing. Through her writing, Irene believes she has been helpful to others and is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her truly inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters of strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187.

Autumn’s Awakening
Irene Brand

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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.

—Matthew 5:23-24

With special thanks to

Bill Crank, DVM (a former “A” student in my

United States history class), and his staff at the

Animal Hospital, West Virginia, for their help

and

Jim and Jackie Kessinger,

owners of Green Valley Farm, Ohio,

and their Belgian draft horses

that provided the inspiration for this book

Dear Reader,

The underlying theme of this book is forgiveness, and during the writing I gave a lot of thought to the subject. As my characters wrestled with their need to forgive and be forgiven, I considered the wonderful news of God’s grace and how willing He is to forgive our sins. Perhaps the hardest words for anyone to say are “I was wrong,” and/or “I’m sorry.” However, before the cleansing power of forgiveness can transform our lives, we must be sincerely sorry for our sins, whether they’ve been committed against others or against God.

We often seek forgiveness from others by doing things for them—giving them something, as in the case of Landon when he gave Nathan a filly to replace the one he’d lost. The Bible teaches that it is sometimes necessary to make a tangible restitution to those we’ve wronged (Luke 19:1-10). Yet there’s absolutely nothing we can do to receive God’s mercy.

Consider a verse from the writings of the apostle Paul. “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved” (Ephesians 2:4-5). If you have not yet received the grace of God into your heart, I pray that this book will point you to Jesus, and His power to forgive.

My next Love Inspired book will continue the Weaver tradition through Summer Weaver, a sister to the heroine in this book. If you want to contact me, my address is: Irene B. Brand, P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Prologue

When daylight filtered through the open window, Autumn Weaver slipped out of bed, dressed hurriedly and walked quietly down the stairs of her family’s Victorian farm home. She laid a restraining hand on the head of Spots, her border collie, when he rushed to greet her as she stepped out on the back porch. The white barn, housing her father’s prize-winning Belgian horses, was barely visible through the layer of dense fog hovering over Indian Creek Farm in central Ohio.

Autumn hurried into the barn, stroking the long faces of the huge draft horses as she made her way slowly to the tack room. She heard Nathan walking around in his upstairs apartment, and she waited breathlessly until his footsteps came nearer. Nathan picked up a couple of halters before he saw her standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I wanted to see you.”

He brushed by her into the main passageway of the large barn. She stopped him by placing a hand on his arm.

“After your date with Dr. Lowe last night, I didn’t think you’d want to see me again,” Nathan said harshly.

“I didn’t have a date with him. Mother invited him to dinner. I didn’t even know he was coming.”

He turned to face her. “It doesn’t matter anyway, Autumn. You know there can’t ever be anything between us. If I can work here until the end of the month, I’ll have enough money to enroll for the fall semester at the university. I’ll leave then, and until that time, we’ll have to stay away from each other.”

“I thought you liked me, Nathan?”

He avoided her beseeching eyes. “That has nothing to do with it. Your father has made it plain that his daughters are off-limits to his hired hands. I don’t blame him. In his place, I’d feel the same way.”

“But we’ve had so much fun this summer.”

“Fun we had to steal when your parents were gone. It just won’t work, Autumn. Go ahead and date Dr. Lowe. He’d make a good husband for you.”

“How can I date him when it’s you I want?”

Her quivering lips, and the blue eyes filling with tears melted Nathan’s defenses, and his determination to avoid her disappeared as though it had never been. Even as he prayed for the strength to leave her, Nathan drew Autumn close and covered her shapely mouth with his. Autumn put her arms around his neck and snuggled into his embrace. When he released her lips, she dropped her head to his shoulder with a sigh of contentment.

“I shouldn’t have done that, Autumn, but I’m only human. I couldn’t resist you any longer.”

“Then you love me?” Autumn asked. Before he could answer, she felt a strong hand jerking backward on her shoulder. She looked up into the angry face of her father, Landon Weaver, who swung his fist and hit Nathan on the jaw.

Nathan grabbed a barn pillar to break his fall.

“Pack your things and get off this property,” Landon shouted. “I’ll figure out what I owe you and send it to your uncle’s farm. Don’t ever let me see your face around here again. I told you to stay away from my daughter.”

“Tell her to stay away from me. I didn’t ask her to come here this morning,” Nathan protested. “This hasn’t happened before.”

“That’s a likely story,” Landon said. “My daughters don’t pursue farmhands.”

Nathan faced Autumn, and she was touched by the distress in his voice.

“Tell him! Tell him I’ve never kissed you before.”

Autumn looked from Nathan’s bruised face and troubled gray eyes to the father she loved more than any other person in the world. As long as she could remember, she’d tagged her father’s heels until she knew as much about the Belgian horses and the farm operation as Landon himself knew. Always before, Landon had given her everything she wanted, but from the belligerent gleam in his eyes, she knew he wouldn’t let her have Nathan.

She looked again at Nathan, whom she adored with all the fervor of an eighteen-year-old’s first love. She’d only known Nathan Holland a few months. Could she choose him over her father? Without considering the far-reaching consequence of her action, Autumn took one last look at Nathan and walked out of the barn without saying a word in his defense.

Chapter One

Blinded by the sudden onslaught of water across the windshield, Autumn braked sharply when an eighteen-wheeler passed her. She flipped the wipers to the highest speed and straightened in the car seat. Numb from hunching over the steering wheel for hours, she considered asking Trina to drive, but it was too risky to stop and change drivers on the interstate. Besides, Trina was asleep, and she was wide awake. Thoughts of the past had kept her wakeful since they’d passed Indianapolis.

When Autumn Weaver left Ohio eight years ago, she hadn’t intended to return to Greensboro. She couldn’t imagine why she’d allowed Ray Wheeler to talk her into taking over his veterinary practice for two months. Was it possible that she hoped for reconciliation with her family? To ask forgiveness for her misguided decisions? To atone for the way she’d disillusioned and disappointed her parents and had caused Nathan Holland to lose his job at Indian Creek Farm?

More than once since she and her closest friend, Trina, had left Wisconsin, Autumn had been tempted to telephone Ray and tell him she’d changed her mind. The bitter incidents that had caused her to leave home had dominated her thoughts for years, but Autumn realized that sometime she would have to deal with the past. Perhaps that time had come.

When she caught herself nodding off, Autumn reached a hand and touched Trina lightly on the shoulder. Trina was a sound sleeper, and when she didn’t stir, Autumn shook her gently.

Trina stretched. “Are we there yet?”

“Not for another two or three hours. I should have telephoned Ray that we’d be late, but by that time, he would already have left for the airport.”

“What time is it?” Trina asked, riffling in her purse for her glasses.

“Midnight.”

“Maybe we ought to stop for the night. There should be a motel at the next exit.”

“Do you have enough money for a motel bill?” Autumn asked.

Yawning widely, Trina said, “I’ve got a hundred dollars.”

“I have about half that much, and I don’t want to spend it on a motel when there’s a free bed waiting for us in Greensboro. We’d better go on.”

“Do you want me to drive?”

“I’ll be all right if you’ll stay awake and talk to me. Otherwise, I might fall asleep and run off the road.”

Trina ran a pick through her short brown hair and took a swig from a water bottle. She handed Autumn a granola bar. “Eat this, and it’ll perk you up.” She glanced at her six-year-old niece curled up on the back seat of Autumn’s old car. “Dolly is sound asleep.”

Trina inserted a tape in the player and the music of her favorite gospel singer filled the car. Through the words of the songwriter, the singer asked God to forgive her if she had wounded anyone with her wilful ways.

As Trina hummed the lyrics, Autumn considered her friend’s strong Christian faith that had kept both of them optimistic during years of difficulties. Trina’s daily prayers on her behalf had brought a semblance of peace to Autumn’s life, and calmness out of the chaos the two friends shared as they worked their way through the veterinary school at the University of Wisconsin.

“Sorry I went to sleep and left you alone with your thoughts,” Trina said. “Have they been pleasant?”

“Not particularly. I’ve been thinking about the summer I left Ohio, wondering why I was foolish enough to return.”

“I believe it’s the providence of God. It wasn’t a coincidence that we met Doc Wheeler at that veterinarians’ convention. Whether you were right or wrong, you can’t have peace of mind and experience the full love of God in your heart until you come to terms with the past. Our temporary jobs as Wheeler’s assistants will give you time to make up with your family and set things right with Nathan Holland.”

“I don’t even know where Nathan went to when he left Greensboro.”

“Did you ask Doc Wheeler about Nathan?”

“No. Doc surprised me so much when he told me he was taking a world tour, I didn’t ask any questions. To my knowledge, he’s never traveled overseas. Before I recovered from my surprise, I agreed to take over for him. He has a large practice, so I’m glad he wanted you to come along, too.”

Conversation ceased and the tires hummed as they hit the concrete in steady rhythm. The lyrics of the song once more infiltrated Autumn’s thoughts: “If I have wounded any soul today.” It’s not “if”, God. You know how many people I’ve wounded.

“The things Ray told me about my family are worrying me. I can’t believe they’ve changed so much since I left home.”

“You’ve been gone eight years! A lot of things can happen in that time.”

“But I can’t imagine Mother as an invalid, confined to a wheelchair. And it’s hard to believe that the six years she’s been sick, Daddy has lost interest in the farm. If Ray is right about how run-down the farm is, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have told me if he hadn’t known, it’ll hurt me to see it.”

“Didn’t he say your sister is living at home? Maybe she’s taken over.”

“Not Summer! She’s a quiet, shy person, who prefers indoor activities. I was the tomboy who followed Daddy around the farm.”

Punching a button to clear steam from the windshield, Autumn looked at the highway markers. “We leave the interstate at the next exit, then it’s a short drive to Greensboro.” She handed Trina the granola wrapper to put in the trash bag. “That did liven me up. Let’s stop at a restaurant for a cup of coffee, and I’ll be okay until we get to our destination.”

“Not a very lively town,” Trina observed as they drove along Greensboro’s main street an hour later. The rain had lessened somewhat, but dense fog obscured the streetlights and the business section resembled an eerie scene in a Hallowe’en movie.

“It never has been,” Autumn agreed, but she looked fondly at the stores and office buildings. They passed the high school where she’d graduated, and she remembered the years she’d been the star of the girls’ basketball team. Her sisters, Spring and Summer, had been cheerleaders, but because of her height, she’d considered herself too gauche to try out as a cheerleader.

“Things haven’t changed much, except for the new shopping mall we passed on the outskirts of town. Apparently, it hasn’t hurt the downtown merchants, for most of these businesses are still operating.”

“Where’s your home?” Trina asked. “Did we pass it?”

“No. Indian Creek Farm is south of Greensboro about ten miles.” They crossed a bridge, and the headlights illuminated a muddy creek, running bank full. “Apparently, it’s been a wet spring. The grass looks lush and green. Every year while I’ve been away, I’ve thought of how the farm would be changing with the seasons. I liked spring best of all.”

Yes, she liked spring, although she had to admit that winter was also a favorite time because she’d first met Nathan in the midst of a snowstorm. Every mile she’d come closer to Greensboro rapidly brought memories of Nathan to the foreground of her mind. Things about him she hadn’t remembered for years had surfaced. Coming home may have been the greatest mistake of her life.

Autumn turned into a driveway beside a two-story frame house with a low, long building attached to the rear of the residence. “Here we are,” she said. “That’s the animal clinic in back.”

“The house is dark,” Trina said. “Maybe we aren’t expected.”

“Ray and his sister, Olive, live together, but she’s probably gone to bed.” Flashing her car lights on bright, Autumn said, “There’s a note on the door. It’s probably for us. Wait in the car until I find out.”

Pulling on her raincoat, Autumn got out of the car and ran up the steps. The note was addressed to her, so she pulled it off the screen and hurried back to the car.

“Dear Autumn,” Olive had written. “It’s midnight, and I’m going to bed. The door is unlocked, and your two rooms are upstairs on the right side of the hall. You and your friend will share the bath between your rooms. Make yourself at home. Wake me if you need help. Olive.”

Using a flashlight, taking only two small bags, and supporting the drowsy Dolly between them, Autumn and Trina moved into the central hallway of the house.

“Should we lock the door behind us?” Trina whispered.

“Not many people in Greensboro lock their doors, so don’t bother.” Tiptoeing quietly up the wooden stair treads wasn’t easy, but they didn’t awaken Olive. “You and Dolly take the rear bedroom,” Autumn said.

“Okay. Wake me in the morning when you want to get up.”

“It’s almost two o’clock now, so let’s sleep late if we can.”

For weeks Autumn had been dreading the return to her childhood haunts, and now that she was finally here, she doubted she would sleep, but an antique wooden bed with white sheets, covered with one of Olive Wheeler’s handmade quilts, looked inviting. Autumn pulled off her denim shorts and cotton shirt, slipped into a cotton nightshirt and snuggled beneath the fresh scented covers.

God, she prayed, I feel sort of like Jacob in the Old Testament, who’d run away to escape the wrath of his brother. Jacob returned a rich man, and I’ve come home penniless. So maybe I’m more like the prodigal son, who came back home wanting his father’s forgiveness. Will Daddy be as willing to forgive as the father in the parable? Will I have the nerve to approach him and ask forgiveness? Maybe I won’t be able to make up with my family, but I want to. You know there’s never been a day I haven’t missed them. Even if I can’t be received back into the good graces of my parents, it still feels good to be home.

In spite of her unpleasant memories, incessant rain dripping on the tin roof soon lulled Autumn into a sense of peace, forgetfulness and sleep.

“Autumn! Autumn!” A quiet voice intruded into her thoughts, and she sat up in bed, momentarily forgetting where she was. A soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in!” she said, and Olive Wheeler opened the door. Autumn blinked when she turned on the ceiling light.

“When did you get in, Autumn?” she asked. “I didn’t hear you.”

“About half-past two. What time is it now?”

“Four o’clock. I hate to bother you, but I’ve had a call from one of Ray’s good customers, so I think you or your friend ought to check it out.”

Swinging out of bed, Autumn said, “I’ll go. Trina doesn’t know anything about this country, and she’d never find her way tonight. Besides, we brought her niece with us, and Trina should be here if Dolly awakens in a strange house.” Pulling a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt out of her bag, she asked, “What’s wrong, and where am I going?” Olive answered the second question first, and her words, “Woodbeck Farm,” halted Autumn with one long leg in her jeans, the other still bare. Matthew Holland, Nathan’s uncle, owned Woodbeck Farm! Why was the first call as Ray’s assistant to a place that dug up best-forgotten memories?

She finished dressing and followed Olive downstairs to the clinic. “What’s wrong?”

“The boy who called said the cow had fallen down in the pasture field, and Mr. Holland thinks she has grass tetany. This happens to cows lots of times in a wet season.” She unlocked a large refrigerator. “Ray keeps all his drugs in there. Do you know what to take?”

“Yes. A lot of my clinical work was among dairy herds in Wisconsin. You go back to bed, Miss Olive, I’ll manage all right.”

Olive opened a desk drawer and handed Autumn a set of keys. “The truck’s in the garage.” Before she left the room, the angular woman peered up at Autumn, eyes compassionate, above a long, bony nose. “I think Ray put you on the spot to ask you to come back here, Autumn, but now that you have, I hope everything works out for the best. They may not admit it, but your family needs you.” She gave Autumn a quick hug before she went back to bed.

Autumn had often helped Ray Wheeler with his veterinary work, and she’d been in and out of the Wheeler house often. Apparently Olive and Ray had remained Autumn’s friends when her family and other neighbors had been quick to judge her, for Ray had been friendly when she’d seen him last month. Now Olive’s compassion brought a lump to Autumn’s throat. But she’d become adept at stifling her heartaches, so she gathered up several bottles of drugs and dropped them in a plastic bucket. Ray’s work clothes hung in the garage, and Autumn stepped into a pair of none-too-clean coveralls, took off her sneakers and pulled on a pair of Ray’s rubber boots. She found a wide-brimmed rain hat to put on when she got to the farm.

This wouldn’t have been an easy assignment under any circumstances, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to meet Nathan’s uncle. She’d hoped, while she was in Greensboro, to learn what Nathan had been doing since she’d seen him, but was she ready to learn that he was married and had a family? The thought had ruined her peace of mind for years. That knowledge would hurt, but on the other hand, if, as Trina insisted, Autumn needed something to put a lid on the past, Nathan, happily married, should do it.

Autumn drove carefully to avoid ponding water on the narrow secondary road. After she’d driven for eight miles, a large sign at the roadside pointed the way: Woodbeck Farm, half mile. When she reached the farm buildings, a boy emerged from the shelter of a shed. Stifling a yawn, he stood by the car door when she got out.

“I’m Tony Simpson. Mr. Holland’s out in the field with the sick cow. He told me to fetch you.”

Autumn took the bucket of supplies out of the car, and carrying a flashlight, she followed Tony into the darkness.

She heard Indian Creek tumbling along its course, but so far, the stream hadn’t overflowed its banks. The soil beneath the grass was soft and spongy, and when they reached a muddy, grassless area, Autumn’s feet flew out from under her. She sat down suddenly in the muck. Tony didn’t even know she’d fallen and he plodded onward.

After a quick examination, Autumn decided that nothing was broken, so she struggled to her feet in the slick mud and hurried to keep the boy in sight. All in the life of a vet, she figured, remembering the times they’d called for Doc Wheeler to come to Indian Creek Farm in the middle of the night.

A lantern burned in the distance, and Tony shouted, “The doc’s here.”

Covered with a hooded raincoat, a man knelt in the mud beside a cow. The large animal’s wet black coat glistened in the dim light as it bellowed and struggled with severe paddling convulsions.

“I believe your diagnosis of grass tetany is right, Mr. Holland,” Autumn said, observing the symptoms of a disease found in cows that fed on luxuriant, rapidly growing pasture in the spring, leading to a chemical imbalance. She pulled a stethoscope from the bucket and knelt beside the large animal. “I’ll listen to her heart.”

The farmer quickly lifted his head and peered at her from under the hood. The lantern’s light shone on his face. For a few breathtaking moments, Autumn was speechless, then she whispered, “Nathan?”

“Autumn!”

She pushed back the brim of her hat, and the rain streamed over her face. The cow forgotten for the moment, each stared at the other. Autumn’s heartbeat swelled with wonder, thankfulness and affection as she laid her hand tenderly on the shoulder of this man she couldn’t forget. A man she never expected to see again.

“So you became a vet after all?”

She grinned slightly. “Just last week. And I’ve got a little piece of paper to prove it.”

He reached out his hand and she placed hers in it.

“Welcome home, Autumn,” Nathan said, and Autumn felt that she really had come home.