Autumn Dreams

by Sharon McGregor

  After the midwife left with Bonnie, Ray and Maggie took turns checking on the baby and Ellen, who nearly had to be restrained to keep her in bed. Maggie sat beside Ellen and watched as she nuzzled the newborn. Would Maggie ever feel such joy?

  “We’re going to call him Andrew,” Ellen said. “Andrew Malcolm. Andrew after my father and Malcolm after Ray’s.” Love emanated from Ellen as she beamed down at her son. “Thanks for what you did. I know how hard it must have been to ride for Sarah.”

  “Actually, I was surprised that it went so well. I guess having something to think about other than myself helped me get over the fear.”

  “Are you? Over the fear, I mean?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable around horses, but I was in the barn this morning and patted Bonnie on the nose when Sarah was getting ready to leave, and I didn’t feel any waves of panic. So maybe I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

  The doctor made an appearance after lunch and gave both mother and son a clean bill of health. As he was leaving, he said to Ray, “I think it’s time you got that thing off.” He pointed at the cast. “If you follow me back to my office, I can take it off this afternoon and give your leg a quick check.”

  Ray didn’t need much convincing.

  Now that the excitement was over, Maggie found she had time to think about Marshall, and she didn’t like the thoughts that entered her head.

  She wondered what he was doing now. Was he really in Timber to help Josh at the yard, or had Stella’s arrival in town changed everything?

  Had he heard about the baby? Probably. In a small town, it would take more than downed phone lines and washed-out roads to stop the gossip lines.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Late that afternoon Maggie realized Emma was conspicuously absent. She had been quiet all morning and said nearly nothing during lunch. She had visited her mother and even held the baby for a brief time, but now where was she? Ray wouldn’t have taken her to town with him without saying something, would he?

  She looked at the phone, wondering if the shared service line had been fixed yet. She was trying to decide whether to start searching outdoors for Emma when it began to ring-one long and three short—not their ring, but at least it was working. She didn’t want to call Ray at the doctor’s office and raise an alarm if everything was fine, but Maggie’s thoughts kept going back to Emma’s words.

  I hope it’s a girl. If it’s a boy, Daddy won’t care about me anymore.

  She wandered down to the barn and called Emma’s name softly. She didn’t want Ellen to hear her and upset her unnecessarily. Then she thought of calling Trigger. Whenever Ellen wanted to find Emma in a hurry, she’d call the dog, and whatever direction the dog came from, that’s where she’d find Emma.

  “Trigger. Here, boy! Trigger!”

  She received no answering barks to her calls, so she checked the barn, even climbing to look in the loft. Where could she be? It was autumn and the nights came a lot quicker now. She didn’t like to think of Emma in the dark somewhere.

  Why had she disappeared? Was she looking for attention, trying to see if her parents loved her enough to miss her and come looking?

  Ray should be home shortly, but in the meantime, she’d keep looking. She could phone Marshall.

  She shuddered at that thought. She didn’t want to look like a needy woman checking up on him, but Emma’s safety was more important than her personal feelings, so she’d call anyway.

  As she closed the barn door, Ray’s truck came down the lane, followed closely by Marshall’s sedan. She ran to intercept them before they went into the house.

  “I can’t find Emma.”

  “She’ll be somewhere with the dog.” Ray didn’t sound worried.

  “I don’t think so. I’ve called Trigger and he doesn’t come either. And there’s more.” She told Ray about Emma’s reaction to the baby being a boy, and her fears about Emma running away.

  He looked at her incredulously. “That’s ridiculous! Where would she ever get such an idea?” Now he was taking Maggie’s fears seriously. He nodded to Marshall. “There’s an old well in the back forty-acre field. I’m going to check there. You follow the creek. Maggie, you keep looking around the buildings.”

  As they each headed off on their missions, Ellen peered out the kitchen window. She was probably wondering what was going on. Better for her to wonder if they were all crazy than to worry needlessly if Emma turned up safe and sound.

  “Emma,” she called again and again, trying not to raise her voice loud enough that Ellen would hear. She also called to the dog, all with no result.

  She didn’t hear Ellen until she was right behind her, holding the baby swaddled in a blanket.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, Ellen. We’re trying to find out where Emma has gone.”

  “She’s always with the dog. She won’t be too far away.” Then her face paled. “I’ve been so busy looking after the baby, I didn’t even realize she wasn’t around the house. She can’t be gone far. Trigger, come here!” she shouted in an authoritative voice.

  Then they heard what sounded like whimpers.

  “Trigger!” Ellen called again. This time the whimper was cut short, but they could tell it was coming from a haystack in the corral. There was the sound of rustling hay. The black-and-white dog emerged from the haystack and squirmed at Ellen’s feet.

  Maggie pulled away armfuls of hay to reveal Emma huddling in a cave-like hole in the haystack.

  “What are you doing, scaring everyone like that?” demanded her worried mother.

  “Trigger wouldn’t stay with me. I was trying to keep him quiet, but he wouldn’t.”

  “It was a dangerous thing to do,” Ellen said. “Haystacks can collapse around you. You scared us all. Why were you hiding?”

  Maggie waved at Ray, who was on his way back, and he broke into a wobbly run, his leg still not at its best.

  He scooped Emma up into his arms. “You silly girl, we were all looking for you. What would I ever do if something happened to you?”

  “Do you still love me, Daddy?”

  “Of course I love you. I’m just cross at you for hiding.”

  “Do you love me as much as you love Andrew?”

  Ray set her down and looked at her earnestly. Maggie and Ellen slipped quietly away in the direction of the house.

  “Why would you think a new baby would change things?”

  “I heard you and Mr. Davidson talking once, when Mom was at the doctor’s about the baby, and he said, ‘Maybe Ellen will get it right this time and have a boy.’”

  “You silly goose. That was him talking, not me. He has four girls and wants a boy. He thought I might feel the same way, but I wouldn’t exchange my princess for any boy. I love you and I love Andrew. Don’t ever think anything will change that. Now, let’s get you into the house and brush that hay out of your hair.”

  Emma did one of her quick changes back to her sunny self and ran to the house as if nothing had happened.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Marshall returned in time to witness the last part of the recovery scene. He stood beside Maggie and watched his family enter the house. “You do seem to bring drama wherever you go.”

  “Me? This had nothing to do with me.”

  “Maybe not directly, but some people are just lightning rods for action.”

  “Where have you been?” she asked and then bit her tongue, thinking she sounded like a jealous girlfriend.

  “Down by the creek.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know. I just love teasing you because you get that little flush on your cheeks. Makes you even prettier.” He was silent for a minute and then said, “I’ve been in Timber, looking after my business. Ray is fine now, so I’ll be moving home.”

  Maggie’s heart gave a lurch. Was he leaving now? Was this the end for them? Had he seen Stella? Those were the questions she wanted to ask.


  “I was also doing some work on my house and making plans to fix it up.” He hesitated but she didn’t answer. “You’re supposed to ask why.”

  “Why?”

  “I hope that’s a sign you’re going to start doing things when I ask.” He gave her another teasing grin. “I want to fix up my house because I intend to ask the woman I love to marry me, and my house is in no state for that.” He turned her to face him and tilted her chin so their eyes met. “Will you?”

  “Will I what?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “I thought…I thought you had gone to see Stella.”

  “Why would I want to see Stella? Anything between us was over when she left town.”

  “But the way you reacted when we saw her at the lake...”

  “That was just shock at seeing her again. It made me think about how I had felt about her and how glad I was that she left. If she hadn’t, I never would have met you. You didn’t seriously think I wanted her back did you?”

  “I didn’t know what to think. You acted strangely all week and then just disappeared.”

  “Maybe this will make you think more clearly.”

  He brought her into his arms, and she could feel his heart beating against her chest. Or was it hers? The two beats mingled as she felt the heat of his kiss melt any reservations she had. She answered fire with fire until she felt she couldn’t breathe any more.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “The next question is when? Would you like a summer wedding or a Christmas one?”

  “I couldn’t possibly be ready by Christmas. There’s the Christmas concert at school and then exam time. And I can’t leave the school before year’s end. And there’s my family to tell.” She finished in a rush, just wanting him to kiss her again.

  “A summer wedding, then. I don’t know if I can wait that long.” He kissed her again. And again.

  Maggie knew she’d have a lifetime of those kisses, but she greedily took every one she could get now.

  She also knew it was going to be the longest school year she’d ever taught. Then she stopped thinking and melted into Marshall’s embrace.

  Please read on to learn more about the author, Sharon McGregor, and to read a sample from another Prism Book Group title, A Secret Life.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sharon McGregor is a west coast transplant from the Canadian prairies. Her imagination and story weaving got its start when she was an only child living on a farm. She’s moved on from cowgirl dreams to romance and mystery, but hasn’t lost her love for horses.

  When not writing or reading, she’s busy with the two shops she shares with her daughter—an ice cream and candy store and a bath boutique.

  In spite of her eternal quest to escape the cold, she does spend time at ice rinks watching her grandchildren figure skate and play hockey.

  When she can summon up the nerve to get on a plane (she’s terrified of flying like Maddie in Northern Lights) she likes to visit with her son and grandchildren who are still knee deep in the prairies.

  Sharon loves endings with happy resolutions which is why she enjoys writing romance and cozy mysteries. Autumn Dreams is her second romance novella with Prism Books.

  Please enjoy this sample from A Secret Life by Lee Carver available from Prism Book Group!

  Karl struck out for yet another green grocer or meat market. So the cook was correct about all the nearby ones. There used to be a fresh market a kilometer away. Probably down Kugelstrasse. He turned right and picked up his pace.

  Shopkeepers told him the way, begrudging more than volunteering information. Queuing on the cobblestone sidewalk, he realized how much his awareness of Germany’s condition had changed this morning. Instead of the deference he had come to expect, citizens who didn’t want to share the food remaining in the city growled at him. His family’s money and profession mattered little to those who had no money, no provisions, and certainly no investments.

  The roar of two German Army trucks startled Karl from his thoughts. They pulled in front of the store, bracing the customers right and left. Soldiers waved their Mauser 98 rifles and dismounted from the cabs and canvas-covered backs before the tires stopped rolling.

  There goes the food. He stepped out of line, the urgency to escape spiking his heart rate. These men were dangerous.

  “Halt! Get back here. Where do you think you’re going?”

  A soldier with several stripes on his uniform grabbed Karl’s shoulder and shoved him toward the end of one of the trucks.

  “Show me your Ausweispapier.”

  Karl handed over his ID paper. The fellow glanced once and slammed it on the clipboard of the other soldier. That man copied the details then pushed Karl against the truck.

  Stumbling, he braced on the high floor and found men staring out from benches along the inside walls. The reality of forced conscription stabbed his lungs. They would take him away without a word to his family and send him off to die in a war against his mother’s people and his father’s politics.

  “Wait. I have a deferment. Von Steuben Investments manages Reichland funds—”

  The kick half-missed its target as Karl turned to explain, to beg, whatever necessary to return home with or without food. His rear end throbbed with pain.

  The soldier’s laugh broke from a crack in hell. “Yeah, and my son’s a lawyer but he’s serving. Get in. Now.”

  An arm jerked him upward off the street, yanking his shoulder joint hard. Dangling, he scrambled for a foothold, scraping his shins on a metal edge, until he fell into the truck on his stomach at the boots of another soldier. His rifle barrel motioned for Karl to sit with the others. Its bore, aimed at his head, killed any idea of escape.

  A man, fifty or sixty years old, climbed up at gunpoint.

  “That’s all. Let’s go.” The soldiers with the uniform stripes swung into the truck as it lurched.

  Shadowed occupants around Karl had to be too young, too old, or too sickly to fight, while his own prime condition made him a sure target. But nabbing him off the street was wrong, just plain wrong.

  The older man stared out the back with haunted eyes, his mouth open as if in a silent scream. He slapped a hand over his heart, showing a thin wedding band. A family man. With him gone, they might not have food either.

  A boy too young to shave sobbed, tears and slobber running down his face.

  Karl held back the sting in his eyes, blinking hard.

  I. Will. Not. Cry.

  He gripped the bare wooden bench as the streets of Munich passed beyond the truck’s open back. Bumping over the rough cobblestones, his bruised rear took further beating. Three times the truck stopped to nab more men and boys. Three times his heart pounded with the challenge to make a dash for it, but the guard assumed a strong stance with his Mauser assault rifle at the ready and a dare in his eye.

  Would they tell his family? Could his father find out where they took him and appeal his abduction? Most of all, he hurt for Mother, who would wring her hands and walk the floor crying. He had thought himself impervious to conscription.

  Hours later, the captive recruits passed through a security checkpoint and into a barebones camp. Was this a prison camp?

  Had they found out about Mother?

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