Autumn's Awakening. Irene Brand

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