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.
Chapter Two
One of the cow’s flailing hooves struck Autumn’s leg, and remembering why she was here, she put her stethoscope on the animal’s trembling side. The loud palpitations hurt her ears. She handed the stethoscope to Nathan so he could hear the hammering heart, wondering if he could also detect her pulse beating almost as fast as the cow’s.
“I’m sure it’s grass tetany,” she explained, “but Ray has plenty of medicines, so I hope it’s not too late to save her.”
“I didn’t find her until after dark,” Nathan said, concern in his voice. “She was bawling and galloping around blindly before she fell down. I haven’t had this happen to any of my cattle before. What can you do?”
“I’ll slowly inject her with a mixture of magnesium and calcium compounds and monitor the heart carefully while I’m doing it. If she reacts favorably, I’ll administer a sedative to settle her down so we can take her into shelter. All of this rain has increased the potassium and nitrogen in the herbage, so she needs to be taken out of the pasture.”
After an hour or so, the cow seemed stable, so Autumn, Nathan, and Tony urged her to her feet and alternately led and pushed her toward the barn. After the animal was bedded down in a sawdust-littered stall, Autumn said, “You should feed her hay and concentrate for the next few days to keep the blood magnesium from falling again. I’ll come back later on today and bring some more medication for you to give her every day.”
Exhausted, the boy curled up on a stack of hay and went to sleep. Nathan grinned. “Tony’s not used to working all night. He’s a neighbor boy, who helps me occasionally. His parents are gone and he was spending the night with me, but he hasn’t gotten much sleep.” Nathan shook the boy’s shoulder. “Tony, come in the house and go to bed.” Tony didn’t stir. Nathan took a blanket off a hook and covered the boy with it. “The night’s almost over, so I might as well let him sleep here.”
The rain had ceased and daylight had come when they left the barn. “So you’re the assistant Ray hired while he took a two-months’ world tour. Wonder why he didn’t tell me you were the one?”
“I thought you were surprised to see me. Didn’t Ray tell anyone that I was helping him for a few weeks?”
“If he had, I’m sure I would have heard that the runaway Weaver daughter was coming home.”
Autumn was tired, and she didn’t like the cynical tone of his voice, wondering if Nathan had changed for the worse since she’d seen him. He’d been a shy, soft-spoken, understanding youth. She opened the door of Ray’s truck, pulled off the muddy coveralls and put them and the bucket of supplies on the floor of the cab.
“Do you want to come in for breakfast and a cup of coffee?” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.
Autumn hesitated. She’d only be in Greensboro for two months, so was it wise to open up old wounds? But she couldn’t turn down an opportunity to find out about Nathan. Was he married? Was he inviting her to eat on behalf of his wife? There was one way to find out, so she said, “Yes. I’d like that.”
She followed him up two steps to the back porch, and when he held the door open, she entered the kitchen, a large, squarish room, with an oval wooden table in the center. One corner of the room held a television, a plastic-covered lounge chair and a matching sofa. The room smacked of masculinity. Although it was neat and orderly, Autumn didn’t see any evidence that a woman lived there—no floral arrangements, no feminine apparel, no knickknacks on the shelves. At the sink, Nathan ran water into a teakettle and took cooking utensils from a cabinet, as if he knew his way around the kitchen. No wife now, Autumn was sure, but had there been one in the years since she’d known him?
Until the warmth of the room reached out to comfort her, Autumn hadn’t realized she was shaking from the dampness. Or was it a reaction to his unexpected presence? Nathan directed her to the washroom near the kitchen, and when she returned, he had two plates laid, and eggs and bacon frying.
“Where’s your uncle?” she asked.
“He died two years ago and willed the farm to me. I’ve been living here for a year and a half.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. When she was a girl, she’d admitted to Doc Wheeler that she had a serious crush on Nathan. Why hadn’t he mentioned that Nathan was now the owner of Woodbeck Farm?
Autumn watched Nathan as he worked. Above his straight, wide eyebrows, the years had marked his face with a network of deeply etched lines. His forehead ran freely into the structure of a high-bridged nose. He still wore his dark-brown hair short and his slate-gray eyes were calm but guarded when he looked at her. Nathan had been unsure of himself and exhibited a low self-esteem when he’d first come to work at Indian Creek Farm, but while they had worked with the sick cow tonight, she’d been impressed by his confidence and skill.
If memories of the slender, youthful Nathan had kept her from being interested in any other man, what effect would a brawny, mature Nathan have on her? Nathan’s shirt stretched tightly over well-muscled arms and shoulders, and his hands were quick and deft at his tasks.
God, is Trina right? Could Nathan be the