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Chapter One

Squinting into the morning sunshine, Autumn watched the beginner class in the dusty outside ring. The horses were carefully plodding along, raising small puffs of dust in the well-worn oval. The day's classes had started on schedule, as was her liking. As the stable manager, one of her tasks was to make sure all the horses and ponies were groomed and saddled before the 8:00 a.m. classes began. The mellow California sunshine was already warming up the day. Early riders were always glad their weekly class ended before the heat increased. After the lesson ended, the girls headed back home with their mothers to other planned leisurely activities. These usually included afternoon swimming at the country club, shopping, or lunching with friends.

Autumn turned around, beginning her mental checklist for the day. The teenage girls, who the stable employed as summer help, were all on tap and ready for their nine o'clock class. Autumn strode over to the stable's bulletin board, quickly scanning the classes for the day. Cassie, one of the teens, told her they had a mysterious request for some private lessons phoned in last week. The caller, who identified himself as Chunky, Mr. Graham's personal assistant requested an early class, private puh-lease, and on a 'spirited black stallion', Arabian if possible. Chunky had paid for the lesson in advance with a credit card and said Mr. Graham would possibly want some more lessons throughout the summer.

"Hmm," Autumn thought to herself. "A black stallion no less." Well, she would be doing a little evaluation before this request was granted! "Cassie, saddle up Nugget for the nine o'clock lesson please."

"Yes, I'll be glad to," Cassie replied with a giggle. Cassie was one of her steadfast horse-loving teens who loved to work at the stable every summer. This was partly for wages and partly for the perks--chances to exercise the Thoroughbreds and enjoy the thrill of riding.

Since the other instructors were preoccupied with teaching or assisting the smaller children in lead-line classes, Autumn knew she would be taking the mysterious Mr. Graham by herself.

"This should be a cakewalk," she figured. "Just another adult beginner."

At eight forty-five, and no sign of the student, Autumn told Cassie to lead Nugget out to the small ring in the shade side of the meadow. Soon Nugget's big sturdy draft horse hooves were clop clopping down the cement aisle. Autumn watched as he walked patiently beside Cassie. For a minute, she thought Nugget could lead himself outside with no problem; he'd done it so many times. She went to take a bottle of chilled water out of the break room refrigerator. Then she took one last look at herself in the large tack area mirror.

Trim in her riding outfit, she knew she was an attractive young woman. Long, brownish-blonde hair was pony-tailed neatly with a delicate black velvet ribbon. She knew she used to be attractive to men, so what happened between her and Chris? What was wrong with her to make him cheat on her? The pain of that day six months ago was still etched clearly in her mind. Walking into her apartment she shared with Mandy, a college student at Michigan State, the afternoon silence was strangely heavy. Usually Mandy was back from her afternoon classes and working on her computer or making a soup and sandwich snack. Autumn set her backpack down inside the front door and thought she heard some noises from the bedroom. She was home a tad early that day, due to a class cancellation at the Lansing stable where she worked. Walking down the hall she heard her fiancé Chris's voice talking in a low murmur. Thinking he had dropped by to perhaps surprise her with a birthday cake or ice cream, she tiptoed down the hall with a girlish thrill of anticipation. What she saw froze her in her tracks faster than the frigid Michigan winter buffeting the apartment building. Mandy and Chris were curled up close in Mandy's bed. Half-exposed bodies were peeking from under the blankets. Chris had his right arm thrown casually over Mandy's waist and was snuggling into her neck. His eyes were half-closed and hers were covered with mussed black curls. Autumn stood rooted to the spot unable to believe her eyes. Her friend and roommate and her boyfriend...no her fiancé...in an unimaginable position...change that to "my ex-fiancé" she thought. With her head spinning, and her stomach churning, Autumn left--but not before slamming the door.

That was six months ago and time had marched on. Autumn's heart had taken a hit, but she now possessed a steeled backbone. This would never happen to her again, she resolved. Never. She was getting on with her life, even if it meant moving to another state to start anew...

Autumn came back to the present.

"I've got to stay focused to keep this job. I want to go on with my life--to go forward," she mumbled into the mirror.

Just then, Henderson, the wiry handyman, came around the corner of the break room.

"Good morning, Missy. How are you today?"

"Just fine, Henderson," Autumn replied. She liked the old man's formal way. He had come to work for Mrs. Barnhill from the Santa Anita area many years ago.

"I've already turned Apparition out in the pasture for the day. If you want to ride him, just let me know and I'll be glad to fetch him."

"Thank you very much. I think I'll be busy with classes this morning, though."

"Alright, well he'll enjoy the grass and fresh air then!" With this, Henderson turned and walked away with his slight limp. Mrs. Barnhill had told Autumn that he had been injured as a young man by a fall from a race horse. Even though it ended his riding career, he was still a gem around the Copper Canyon horses with his extensive homespun knowledge. Autumn always liked being around the elderly man, he seemed to treat her like a daughter he never had.

She gave a long glance at her face one last time, pale grey-blue eyes fringed with long lashes. The barest of makeup covered her face; there was no real need for it in this job. Not much "fixing up" was necessary when you were around horses and hay bales and dust all day. Usually she just wore a good brand of tinted lip balm to get some color on her face. Her well-scrubbed complexion would get her through the day; it always did before. Her cheeks and the top of her nose were sun-kissed by the outdoor exposure and the same rays had put some subtle natural highlights in her glossy mane. The little children did not care if she wore makeup or not, they liked her easy attitude and the friendliness that put them at ease. Mrs. Barnhill, the stable owner, preferred their staff to keep their cosmetics minimal anyway. All good English riders were this way, even keeping their accessories plain and simple. They tended to avoid cloying perfumes or jingly jewelry. This tradition went back to the old English days.

She checked her button-down shirt to make sure she was still neat looking and straightened up her belt buckle.

Autumn watched Cassie lead Nugget down the gravel drive to the ring. In the distance, she saw a tan, tornado-shaped cloud of dust boiling behind a car. It was approaching at a fast rate of speed on the Barnhill's private tree-lined drive, obviously ignoring the posted sign of 15 mph and the international icon of riders on horseback.

"Well, it looks like my nine o'clock has arrived and is already causing trouble," she muttered with irritation. She took off her sunglasses so she could see better in the distance and tugged at the cord of her bush hat with a snap of her wrist. Autumn walked to the stable door closest to the parking area and watched the driver stop and get out.

Walking up to the car, Autumn announced, "I'll have to ask you to please drive slower next time. We have youngsters here and horses that are easily startled. You could cause a bad accident." she said through clenched teeth. Autumn glared at him, taking in his overall appearance. First there was the grubby, food-stained T-shirt. Looking farther, she wasn't surprised to see wrinkly khaki shorts. His cuticles were rough and gnawed looking. He was the epitome of male carelessness. The pudgy pie-faced driver looked at her with a blank look, as if to say, "Who me?"

Autumn then turned her attention to the car's passenger. The door swung open and a pair of long, muscular legs stretched out. This was Autumn's first sight of Logan Graham, fledgling soap opera actor. Suddenly taken aback, Autumn had to admit to herself that what she saw interested her. Definitely. His initial effect on her senses was striking. Dark brown wavy hair and chocolate brown eyes. Dangerously long eyelashes. Lashes that could almost be called feminine except for the totally male body that they were attached to. A brilliant white smile flashed at her as Logan crinkled the corners of his mouth and extended his hand with nonchalance.

"Hi, I'm Logan. And this is my driver, Chunky. I'm sorry...first time at a riding stable you know. Hope I'm not late for my lesson."

Autumn nodded curtly, extending her hand and shaking his quickly. After all, she reminded herself, he was a paying customer. But what a paying customer!

"Yes, I already have your horse saddled and ready to go. We don't have time to tour the stable, let's just go out to the ring and get started, why don't we?" Autumn said. She wanted to learn more about this man, but knew that it would be inappropriate at this time. This was a teaching situation, after all. Instructor and student. Business not pleasure, she reminded herself.

As she and Logan walked down the drive to the ring, she completely forgot about Chunky back at the car. She turned around, only after hearing the trunk lid slam. Chunky had strapped a camera around his neck and also was bringing a camcorder she noted.

"How nice," Autumn said to Logan. "He's going to take some pictures of you!" Autumn was used to this: many of the parents liked to film their young ones riding for the first time. But most adults did not, for obvious reasons.

"Yes, Chunky is my P.A. and Man Friday I guess you could say," Logan replied.

"P.A.?" Autumn looked puzzled. "Just what's that?"

"Oh." Logan laughed. "You must be new to California."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." Autumn replied. "Just a newbie I guess. Six months out here in La La Land." She was glad to have a chance for small talk that would get her mind off this man's physique!

"Most everybody gets a personal assistant once they get established out here in the industry. Usually a close friend or relative. Sometimes just a paid employee," Logan said. "I think Chunky is good for me and vice versa if you know what I mean. We're boyhood friends and I feel I can trust him in many matters."

"Oh." Autumn nodded again in a hazy sort of mind.

"Yes, besides being my P.A. and Man Friday, Chunky also runs my Web site," Logan said.

"Really?" Autumn said.

"Oh yes, an actor is nobody nowadays without a Web site, chat room and message board," Logan grinned. "Chunky also sends some leftover pictures to the soap magazines and even uploads little film snips to my site. The fans seem to love it."

Autumn said, "Perhaps we can talk about this a little later; this is very interesting. You're the first actor who has come here for lessons since I've been stable manager."

By now they had reached the ring and Cassie was waiting at the mounting block with the old Palomino. Logan looked a bit stunned.

"I thought Chunky phoned ahead with our choice of mount."

"Yes, I got the message, but it's the instructor's choice of horse for first time riders. Since I didn't know your equestrian background, I felt best if we used Nugget first time out. He's nice and safe," Autumn said. To herself she thought, "nice, safe, old and slow, too."

"Well, let's make do with old Nugget, what do you say," Logan said with a grin. "Now, which side do I mount on?" He raised an eyebrow in mock amusement.

"You can use the mounting block or you can hop up yourself," Autumn replied, eying Logan's snug jeans. She had seen jeans split unexpectedly on lesson days; she wondered what the odds were today. "Another way is for me to give you a 'leg up' as we say around the stable. But it's really better if you mount by yourself and learn the correct way."

Chunky had positioned himself at the east end of the ring, under a shade tree. "Logan, Logannnnnnn," he said. "Over here! Give me a big smile!"

"Ok, Chunky, let me get up on this hay burner," Logan yelled back at him.

"Alright, Logan," Autumn said. "Left foot in the stirrup, have the reins gathered up in your left hand. Grab a piece of mane if you wish, but not the back of the saddle." She had to admit, Logan was not only photogenic, but he definitely had a masculine aura about him. Even though he didn't know his way around a horse by any means, he exuded self-confidence. This was something she liked in a man.

"Okay, how about this?" Logan's voice trailed down to her from atop Nugget.

"Good! That's the first step in becoming a real rider," Autumn said. "Here, let me adjust your stirrups next." Taking Logan's calf and pulling it down a bit was sheer pleasure. Autumn had forgotten how good a man's muscular leg felt. This was just through jeans, but still.... Her mind drifted back to an earlier time when she allowed herself to feel the pleasures of a man's touch, something she had denied herself for more than half a year. Maybe today was a turning point in her life.

She left her hand lingering on his leg a second more than she meant to. Logan didn't notice, he was holding still for Chunky to get a good shot. By now Chunky had moved into the center of the ring to get some closer shots. The morning sun shone on Logan's cheekbones, Autumn noticed. She also noticed he didn't seem to have a bad side, either. Autumn put the bottom of the stirrup below Logan's ankle bone.

"See, this needs to be here next time". She tapped the iron stirrup directly below his ankle. "This will position your leg in the correct place on the saddle flap," she told him. "Too high and you'll look like a jockey. Too low and you may fall off. Of course next time you may have a completely different horse and saddle. For your next lesson please wear some boots or leather shoes with heels. Tennis shoes are too dangerous," Autumn put on her "teacher is right frown" so Logan would know she was serious.

"I didn't even think to have Chunky ask what to wear today. Shows our ignorance." Then he grinned that disarming grin again.

She returned his grin. "Yes, next week should go even better." She enjoyed warming to this man. His friendly demeanor was washing over her like no man before. Perhaps she needed to let her guard down a bit. "Now tell me in a nutshell why you're here today," Autumn queried, leading Nugget out to the track.

"Aw, the studio has some upcoming scenes for me where I have to ride a horse and perhaps rescue a damsel or two," was his reply.

"Is that right? And what movie will that be?" Autumn asked.

"No movie, ma'am, my soap opera. The Brandenbergs of Crystal City," was Logan's reply in a contrived Texas cowboy drawl.

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with daytime TV," Autumn replied. "Perhaps we can discuss it sometime. I stay pretty busy at the stable nowadays." Autumn thought maybe it was time for a change in her life. A drastic change. Something along the line of male and female relationships.

The lesson went on as smoothly as she could have hoped for. Nugget plodded at his slow, dependable pace for one hour. Sometimes Autumn wondered if Nugget had a built-in timer that automatically ticked off the minutes. He certainly seemed to know when the end of the lesson neared. Logan learned the simple basics every new rider needed; stopping, starting, and turning his mount in circles. He seemed to have a great center of balance, Autumn noted, even for a rank beginner. Most men were awkward at first, but Logan seemed at ease.

"Have you participated in any sports, Logan? You seem to be quick with reflexes and balance."

A quick blush crept on Logan's cheeks. "I did competitive swimming in high school," was his reply. "But not much lately. I did take a martial arts class last year for some exercise."

Autumn conjured up a mental scene of Logan flipping someone over his hip, but failed miserably. This man is better suited for bedroom scenes, she decided. "For your next lesson you should wear some boots or leather shoes with heels. Tennis shoes are too dangerous," Autumn repeated, switching to her instructor voice. She certainly knew he wasn't stupid, but she often found herself having to repeat vital information to make sure a new student followed her instructions.

"Too dangerous?" Logan asked.

"Yes, your foot could become stuck in the stirrup."

"Alright, teach, you are the expert." Once again, Logan grinned his disarming grin. Autumn wondered if it was natural friendliness. Could he possibly be so naïve about the effect he had on women? With that to mull over, she glanced at her watch. The minute hand pointed to eight fifty-five.

"I think we had better come to the center of the ring and practice a dismount."

"Dismount? You mean one hour has gone by already?" Logan quizzed.

"Yes. But you are doing fine. Next week will be stage two. I'll probably assign you Nugget again. We'll build on what we learned today."

Logan hopped from the saddle, his tennis shoes hitting the ground with a quick thump. "I certainly enjoyed my first riding lesson," he told Autumn.

"Yes, most folks find it an elegant type of recreation," she told him.

"Well, Chunky and I must be running along, so I'll say adieu until next week." With this, Logan tossed her Nugget's reins and sauntered off.

Autumn couldn't help but watch him from the back--the wide shoulders, the tapering waist. The long legs. The snug jeans. She was giving herself the momentary splendor of fantasizing about a man. Then she realized she was holding the old Palomino's reins. She should have had Logan lead him back to the stable correctly, showing him the way. It was a responsibility he needed to learn. But, she thought wistfully, it will keep until next time. Next week, as a matter of fact!

* * *

Logan opened the car door and dropped into the seat. Chunky had just slammed down the trunk with a whomp sound and came around to get behind the wheel.

"Got everything loaded up alright for the trip back downtown?" Logan asked him.

"Yep, we're set," Chunky said. "Let's head back downtown for an early lunch."

Chunky was always ready for an early lunch, Logan thought. Or a late lunch. Or an early supper. Chunky kept his mind on food too much. Even though he had potential as a stand in or walk-on with Logan's recommendation, Chunky would never be leading man material. But he knew it and was happy with the P.A. title bestowed upon him. Some people are willing to settle for less, Logan thought. But some of us want more, much more.

"Say, what did you think about Autumn?" Logan asked Chunky.

"Who?" Chunky said.

"Autumn, my instructor. She was a pretty girl, wasn't she?" Logan pretended to be annoyed with his friend.

"Oh, I didn't have much time to get her in my shots," was Chunky's reply. "I was trying to get the best light for you, Logan."

"Well, I thought she was very nice and pretty to boot," Logan told him. "Maybe the kind of girl you would want to date. She's certainly not one of the industry types we see all the time."

"Oh yeah," Chunky replied again, absent-mindedly. "More of a hometown girl, eh boss?" With this, he fiddled with inserting a new compact disk into the car's player.

"More the marrying kind I was thinking," was Logan's reply. "Somebody special for a lucky guy I think."

With that, Chunky turned the car down the drive and started to speed up.

"Hey Chunky, slow down," Logan said. "We have to obey the rules from now on!"

Chapter Two

Striding quickly up the path to Mrs. Barnhill's house for an early supper invitation, Autumn had to admit to herself that she certainly lived and worked at a beautiful place. The grounds were well-maintained, but not so much that they looked formal and imposing. The shrubs and flowers were trimmed and planted in a way that brought to mind understated flowing elegance. The landscape was like tailored designer clothing that was custom-made from the most costly and flattering fabric. A visitor's senses were never assaulted by clashing floral patterns. Rather they tended to all blend perfectly into the whole scheme of things. Whoever laid out the blueprint for this place had a subtle and artistic touch.

She had taken a quick shower and changed into some denim shorts and a pink halter top. Ditching the tall black riding boots, she slipped into some summery sandals. "Might as well be comfortable," she thought. After ten o'clock, the rest of the day had melted into a haze. She got through the remaining morning classes, and then had a quick fast food lunch in town. The afternoon classes found her daydreaming of Logan a bit, and then she would snap herself out of it. She wondered what had happened to her. "I guess I've just been without a romantic interest in my life for too long," she pondered. "I don't really have to be in mourning. After all, I am single," she admitted to herself. She was talking to herself in a soft voice as she neared the house.

From the corner of the dining room window, Mrs. Barnhill glimpsed Autumn's approaching form. A smile crossed her face; she was always cheered by Autumn's presence. Since her daughter Marie had gone off to Europe, the big house just didn't seem the same.

"Please come in my dear!" Mrs. Barnhill chirped. "How did the day at the stable go?"

"Oh it was a little different today," Autumn said with a lilt to her voice.

"And how is that, Autumn?"

"Well, let's go over the daily nuts and bolts over supper, shall we?"

Mrs. Barnhill said, "Oh, we're being coy, are we? Alright, I like a little spice with my supper!"

Mrs. Barnhill liked Autumn from their first meeting, six years ago. Marie's class was holding an open house for parents at the Redmont School in Massachusetts. The finishing school always held a weekend visitation for new students in the summer preceeding the fall semester. The older girls honed their hostess skills by meeting and greeting the parents and new freshmen. The long weekend was filled with tours of the school, the grounds, and the small but quaint neighboring town. Evenings were set aside for cocktail parties with the Redmont staff and catered dinners. The parents always left with the assurance that their daughters would get the finest education a private school could provide. Mrs. Barnhill and her husband had met Autumn's parents and were charmed with them, as they were with their daughter. Autumn's mother was the typical social butterfly combined with old school money. Her father was making his mark in the Detroit construction business.

Autumn and Marie were assigned the same room to share, and they soon found many common interests. Since they had both had their personal horses shipped to Redmont, that was naturally the first order of business. Every chance they had they slipped away to the stables to groom their horses and go on leisurely trail rides together, or with other girls. Summer vacations and long holiday weekends provided a chance for Autumn to occasionally accompany Marie home on visits.

Then, in their last year at Redmont, so many things had changed. Mrs. Barnhill's husband, Josef, had been stricken with a fast-growing cancer and within six months was gone. On the other coast, Autumn's father suffered a bad turn in the slumping Detroit economy. His company had to file for bankruptcy. Autumn's mother, used to the better things in life, had bailed out of the marriage. She then remarried quickly, rather than go down with the proverbial sinking ship. Since Autumn's tuition had been paid in advance, she was allowed to finish out her senior year, albeit without some of the luxuries she had grown accustomed to.

The two family's lives had changed rather abruptly. Marie headed back to her family's stable, ensconced in daily management duties, and helping her mother with bookwork. Autumn had also entered the world of work. She had first shared an apartment with her father, and then lived alone when he left for more lucrative job opportunities in Florida. Thinking she could cut costs by getting a roommate, she ran an ad in the personals. This is when Marie came into the picture.

Marie and Autumn had kept in touch over the last two years. When Marie had a chance to go to Europe on an art study tour, she just knew Autumn was the ideal choice for her replacement. It didn't take much persuading on her part to get her to agree to try out the combined work and living arrangement.

As the maid brought the first course to the table, Mrs. Barnhill's thoughts came back to present. She moved her hands off the maple table so the maid could set the soup tureen on the brass trivet. Autumn had been chattering on while sipping her iced tea, and spreading her linen napkin over her lap.

"Yes, Dr. Huddleston said he would be ready to come worm the stable horses next Thursday." Autumn delicately plucked the mint leaf from her glass and laid it carefully on her coaster. "And Clay will be coming out tomorrow for shoeing Teacher's Trouble and starting corrective shoes on Irish Lad."

"That's fine, Autumn, you're handling things just as I hoped you would."

Mrs. Barnhill knew even though Autumn was only twenty, she had a spunk and determination that would carry her well in life. Getting over a broken engagement and hitting the ground running were great indicators of this.

"Just get the bills from the vet and farrier and bring them to me later."

She had taken the ladle and filled bowls for both of them. The steaming broccoli soup looked so creamy and inviting, Autumn couldn't wait to dip her spoon into it. Mrs. Barnhill passed her some imported crackers which she crumbled and placed on top in a little circular pattern.

Mrs. Barnhill had to laugh at her. "What on earth are you doing, Autumn? Making crop circles in your spare time?" Autumn grinned at her.

"I guess it's too much dressage riding."

"What about Apparition? Does he like his new stall? He seemed a little nervous at first. If you want, we can get him a companion animal. A white goat perhaps. I'll be glad when the remodeling is finished in the main stable. Then he can move in there and have more company."

"Oh yes, ma'am, he's getting used to his surroundings. I think part of it is the stable looks a lot inside like his old home in Detroit." Autumn knew Mrs. Barnhill took delight in hearing of her day-to-day activities, especially where her gelding Apparition was concerned. She liked to watch Autumn exercise him in the dressage ring in the balmy California evenings. Even though Mrs. Barnhill did not ride much herself nowadays, she still admired fine horseflesh and a capable rider.

By now both of them had finished their salads and consommé. Mrs. Barnhill rang the bell for the maid to clear the plates and bowls and bring the main course. Soon, white china plates of marinated chicken and vegetable kabobs on a bed of saffron rice were placed in front of them.

"My favorite, Mrs. B.! You're always thinking of me," Autumn squealed.

"My pleasure, Autumn! And of course you know, it's one of Marie's favorite meals, also." Mrs. Barnhill began sliding one of her kabobs off the skewer. "Now, tell me the good story, the one you're saving for the dramatic finish."

Autumn moved her rice around the plate. "Oh, it's a new rider named Logan. He said his studio sent him out for riding lessons. He's a rank beginner in the horse department. Even showed up in tennis shoes," Autumn huffed.

Mrs. Barnhill laughed her sparkly little laugh. "Oh Autumn, Autumn, don't forget this is California! We're used to getting these sorts occasionally!"

"Is that right?" Autumn looked puzzled.

"Autumn, don't you watch television and movies? You always see somebody on horseback. Marie had a similar student two years ago; she even dated him for a while."

"She did?" Autumn didn't know this tidbit about her girlhood friend.

"Yes, it was sort of a short-lived romance. His show got cancelled. Then he ran out of money for lessons and the romance went down the drain. He finally left when he couldn't find work in town anymore." Mrs. Barnhill took a sip of her tea.

"But never forget Hollywood is a town of side industries, Autumn. Not everyone is in front of the camera. There are twenty people behind the scenes for every leading man. Who do you think sews their gowns and curls their hair? Hollywood is based on making people look better than they actually are. Dentists, plastic surgeons, even the nail technicians have a part to play."

"Mrs. B., you are simply a wealth of knowledge!" Autumn said.

"Come, let's go out on the patio for some coffee and dessert," Mrs. Barnhill said. "Really, Autumn, you need to get out a bit more and sample some of what this town has to offer! You are making progress professionally but not personally, if you know what I mean. So tell me, what does Logan look like?" she continued.

Autumn began her description eagerly, "Oh he's tall! And so polite! I mean, he was charming without even trying! Quite the photogenic type if you know what I mean."

"So would you consider him date material?" Mrs. Barnhill asked.

Autumn gave her a shy grin. "I guess so, Mrs. B. I have put things on hold since breaking my engagement last year."

"And you are a fetching young woman, don't forget that!" Mrs. Barnhill picked up a piece of the cheesecake the maid had brought out on a tray. "A little romance makes the world go round and all work and no play are pretty boring, too!"

"So you are saying I should become a husband hunter?" Autumn asked.

"No, not in this day and time. I think a young woman today can have it all. Now, it does take some doing. Things don't just get dumped in your lap. I see no reason why you can't mix business and pleasure. Too much of the business end can make you a pretty dull woman. Have some time in your life for romance. It adds excitement and zest. And who among us doesn't like a little spice, some sparkle in the eyes. That's what I'm getting at."

By now Mrs. Barnhill had added some sugar lumps to her coffee with filigree silver tongs. "I chose to devote my time to making this stable prosper when my husband Josef first passed away. I felt that making this place a viable business was important to my and Marie's future. After all, a woman needs to look after herself nowadays when there's no man around."

Autumn quietly sat in the patio chair, enjoying her cheesecake. The piquant raspberry sauce was the exact topping she would have ordered for herself in a restaurant.

"Now, what are your plans tomorrow, Autumn?"

"I think I'll exercise Apparition early. Maybe around seven. Then get the girls ready grooming the horses for the day."

"That sounds fine to me. I'm running into town for a quick haircut then will probably be doing paperwork in the office if you need me later on. Remember what I said about the pleasure in your life. And also remember all these students are paying customers, just that some are more handsome than others!"

With a last sip of her coffee, Autumn told Mrs. Barnhill goodnight and placed her cup and saucer on the tray. "You're always full of good advice, Mrs. B.," Autumn said, hugging her good night. "Sometimes you give me the advice I wish my mother could."

"I'm sure your mother would say something similar, dear. Don't be too hard on your mother; she's trying to rebuild her life too with her new husband."

"I know, but with her gone, Daddy gone, and now Marie in Europe, you're my sole confidant. I get tired of talking to Apparition on our rides. He's a great listener, but lousy on feedback," Autumn said with a mock frown. "Thanks again, you gave me some food for thought."

Autumn headed off the brick patio and down the walk to her cottage. It was only a five hundred yard walk. The cottage was close enough to the main house for comfort, yet with a touch of distance that could make you feel you had your own space. That was why Marie had taken it over when she returned to Copper Canyon after graduating Redmont.

"Close enough to Mummy for cooking and creature comforts, yet far enough away to become my own woman," she would tell Autumn.

Autumn let herself in the cottage's front door and slipped out of her sandals. She noticed a small pile of mail on the floor that the maid had dropped into the slot on her way home. She picked up the handful, thumbing through it. Credit card applications, a few personal letters from girlfriends in Detroit, a postcard of the Louvre from Marie. A medium-sized envelope, one with familiar lettering and a foreign stamp, interested her first. She ripped it open as she padded barefoot into the small but cozy den.

"Dear Autumn," it started. "Ronald and I are still touring England and having a wonderful time. Still on our honeymoon it seems!" Autumn quickly scanned the rest of the four page letter, noting certain references to tea rooms, business deals Ronald was handling and, of course, shopping excursions. Her mother's small, neat script written in fine-point felt pen rambled on from page to neatly lined page. Autumn could see her mother in her mind's eye, sitting in an elegantly appointed hotel suite, dashing off notes with her monogrammed pen.

This can wait for later, she thought. Same old stuff, different color hotel stationery. Something about her mother always put her in mind of Joan Crawford marrying the soft drink honcho. A step up, higher social status. Getting off planes at large airports, wearing a fur coat. Well, what about me and Dad? You bailed out on us when we could have stuck together. Made it as a family. Then she caught herself. No, don't think that way. Mom's life is separate from my life. She made her choices and I have to make mine. Let bygones be bygones. I'm not going to judge her.

As she passed the telephone, she saw the message light flashing its red eye at her. "Now who could have called me?" she said to no one in particular. A big number "two" was in the box, so she knew she had two messages. The stable phone was automatically rolled to her unlisted cottage number at six o'clock every night. Henderson had gone to his house near the highway and the teen stable workers had gone home for the day. She imagined one of the girls perhaps had called her to say she was feeling bad and couldn't come to work tomorrow. She hit the button and waited for the tape to rewind. The first message was from her father.

"Hi Princess! Hope you're doing okay. Work is going great guns here. I feel like a new man with a purpose! Will write this weekend!"

Her father's distinctive rumbling voice warmed her heart. She was glad his career was on the uptake. Good work, maybe a good woman in the future. Mrs. B.'s words stuck in her mind. It was difficult to imagine her dad with a girlfriend, but who knew what the future held? She then played the second message. A man's voice came on with a bit of attitude in it.

"This is Chunky, Mr. Graham's personal assistant." Autumn started to groan. "Mr. Graham is experiencing some muscle soreness, plus he has blisters on his hands and knees. Could you please call me immediately to let us know what to do to remedy this situation?"

Autumn had to laugh out loud; this was common in beginners. Almost everyone experienced it sooner or later. She had to admit that she had forgotten completely about it in the time she was admiring his body. So all this was new to him. She called the voicemail box back that Chunky had given and left a short message. "Tell him to take two aspirins and I'll call him in the morning."

With this little task done, Autumn hung up the phone and headed to her bathroom to wash her face and slip on a summer gown. Placing her wet washcloth over the towel rack, she changed her mind. No summer nightgown for me tonight, she thought. Was the cottage warmer, or was it just her imagination? I want to feel my skin between the sheets. Nothing else. The only thing better would be a naked man beneath the sheets with me. Before she flipped off the light switch for the night, she thought she'd browse through some fashion magazines that Marie had left lying around.

"Mrs. B. was right. I have been neglecting my romantic side. I think Femm Fashion 101 will be required reading before next week's lesson."

Chapter Three

Autumn did call Logan the next day, as she promised. Their conversation was on the light side, touching on humorous points of new rider aches and pains. Autumn wanted to be more flirtatious, but Logan strangely seemed to keep his distance while they talked. She knew a man with looks like he possessed was sexually experienced. Why wouldn't he be? This guy probably has to beat them off with a stick. Perhaps I'm coming on too strong. I sure can't tell him that I slept in the raw last night thinking about him. Still...I hope that he finds me attractive.

Logan didn't have much time to chat as he was on the studio set, so he ended their talk with a promise to be a little earlier for his next lesson. Logan was pleased that Autumn returned his call. She certainly was a pleasant young woman, and nice looking, too. Her firmness with Chunky startled both of the men, but they chalked it up to her professionalism. In their jobs, they knew what it was to work with Iron Maidens. He thought about Joan Crawford and shuddered involuntarily. Yet for Autumn's take-charge attitude and horsy attire, Logan sensed a warm, welcoming female underneath. Perhaps he was reading more into this situation than really existed.

He never was one to spend time goofing off or day dreaming. He was career-minded and he admitted it. He felt that Autumn wanted to talk more on the phone, but for the life of him he couldn't think of a single reason to continue their conversation after the initial lesson chit chat was over with. That was his problem with women--he froze up every time. If only he could overcome his eternal shyness. Put a script in front of me and I can create any scene, any atmosphere. But give me a blank slate and I'm clueless when it comes to women.

During an extra-long afternoon break, Logan found an empty bed on the set and curled up for a short nap. He soon slipped into the grey area that links the conscious and unconscious. His recurring dream began again. It was one that he had since his early teens. He was in a field, perhaps in England; he was unsure. It was a bucolic setting. His garments were rough and patched, the type common peasants wore. Sturdy brown hobnail boots, coarse black breeches and a large straw hat to protect his head from the cruel rays of the sun. The sun always beat down on him in this dream and the heat was intense. His hands squeezing the gnarled plow handles were chapped and calloused. The musk oxen pulling the ancient plow stumbled over the rough terrain, almost driven to their knees by frequent stumbles. Last year's crop of shriveled dried beans crunched underneath his heavy-soled boots. A powdery brown crust covered the field. The horizon was filled with water-laden clouds, yet the promised rain never came. The oxen were thirsty and Logan was also. Water was foremost on their minds every day.

Because the oxen's gait was uneven, the plow point always skipped and would not pierce the soil as it should. How could he plant his crops like this? Every day was frustrating. Logan looked up, paused a second and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. His boots stirred up puffs of tan dust with each step. He thought he should slap the round rumps of the oxen to drive them faster. Alas, he knew it was to no avail. Evening was drawing near and he was nowhere done with the field. He had toiled all day long and had only done a few furrows. He glanced back to see them; they were crooked and filled with lumps of cold black soil. He knew he would have to return to his task tomorrow.

He awoke with a start. It took him a moment to gain his bearings on the studio set. His hands were clenched tightly around the plows reins. He always wondered why he had this dream. He knew Freud's explanation was that dreams were wish fulfillment brought on by rapid eye movement. Perhaps one day someone could explain it to him. Perhaps he should have his eyes checked also. He'd make a note to ask Chunky to get something set up for him. He shrugged off the cobwebs of sleep and returned to the set.

* * *

The remainder of the week saw Autumn feeling a little fidgety. She couldn't quite put her finger on her feelings but they fluctuated between curiosity, giddiness, and expectation. Oh, she still kept up with her instructions and even riding Apparition on schedule. She knew if she fell behind on Apparition's canters out in the meadow, Cassie would gladly take up the slack.

Autumn always paid her in cash for the exercise sessions. Cassie admired Autumn's large grey gelding and kept a close watch on him, the same as Autumn would. Whether he was being ridden or out in the paddock, Cassie always kept her eyes open for Autumn's horse. Even though most of the paying students were from wealthy families, the teen staff was middle to lower-middle class. Most of them worked for extra income to spend on cigarettes or clothing purchases. Long-term planning was the last thing on their teenage minds. Boys yes. Parties yes. TV yes. Cassie however was saving hers for a used car, and after that, college expenses. She told Autumn that she knew she couldn't get into any of the big universities, but she did plan to take classes at a local community college when she scraped up enough for tuition. She said that her dream was still two years down the road, but she was putting money into her bank account every month. Autumn felt so proud of her for doing this; it was something she herself had never done. Others had always planned Autumn's life for her. This was the first time she was really striking out on her own since boarding school. Cassie was the most mature of the lot and Autumn could always count on her to act in her stead if the occasion arose. Cassie was an excellent student, always getting A's on her report card. Autumn was always heaping praise on the girl. Though she doubted if Cassie could go to college, considering her family finances, she was sure the girl could find work anywhere in the valley, with good references. Cassie could even be trusted to handle minor stable finances if Autumn was not around. This could be anything from accepting checks from riders or signing invoices for feed or vet and farrier bills. Her quiet demeanor and polite manners around the visitors and boarders always won her praise.

Normally after the days work was done and Apparition cooled down and put back in his box, Autumn would spend quiet evenings in her cottage. Mrs. Barnhill usually had a standing dinner invitation every day for Autumn if she chose to accept it. If Mrs. Barnhill was out of town on business, she would have her cook prepare something for Autumn anyway. As the week headed to a close, she began planning the large Saturday dinner parties she was famous for. Mrs. Barnhill had created a life for herself away from the equestrienne business after her husband's death. Elsie was glad to see this. Besides running the stable, she also had many personal and civic events she attended during the week.

Autumn enjoyed her invitations and yet she felt a need for some solitary time also. The vast library Marie had accumulated in the cottage was stuffed with equestrian and art books. Autumn always had two or three of them pulled out at any given time, some on the bedroom dresser or some on the coffee table. Yet Autumn felt something was missing. Reading was okay, but it sure didn't take the place of a living, breathing boyfriend. Something in the line of male and female relationships was amiss. She knew this from the night before. Autumn's self-imposed exile from the male sex had accomplished something at least. She learned that she could stand on her own two feet and manage a million-dollar stable rather efficiently. This in itself was a tremendous morale-booster. After the failed engagement, this was exactly what she needed.

But she felt the time had arrived to move on. The mourning period was over. Dead, gone, and buried, she thought. Get on with your life, girl. You're still young. Start a new chapter in your life.

The last week had been filled with evenings poring over glossy fashion and glamour magazines instead of watching television or listening to the radio. Autumn took note of what outfits she felt would flatter her figure. What hairstyles might be good for a night out on the town? The equestrienne world called for a pared-down and austere image. It was great for horse shows, but not the best for snagging a man!

She started paying closer attention to what the teen girls at the stable talked about daily. She listened in on their conversations unobtrusively in passing. Not to snoop, but to learn. There were just some things she had missed being an only child, she thought. Though she had been around similar-aged girls at boarding school, their interest in grooming and fashion trends tended to lean towards more matronly and conservative New England looks. Their closets were stuffed with pricey but boring fashions. Autumn had to admit she had dressed in the same way herself. Heavy tweeds, big Scottish plaids, thick knee socks and tasseled loafers were pretty much the style in her school. Haircuts were straight, blunt-cut, or sporty looking.

In California, the emphasis was on glowing health and head-turning fashions. Makeup, clothing, and jewelry were all on the cutting edge out here. Bronzed skin was in, pale was definitely out. Hair was styled, not just cut. Dainty hair ornaments were used daily, not just for special occasions like a prom or wedding.

She found she was looking at things differently since Logan had come into her life.

When she turned on the morning network news, she now took note of the women anchors, people she usually paid no mind to. She noticed their hairstyles and the makeup they wore. Truthfully, Autumn had never been one to wear much makeup in her Detroit days. But it seemed like the women in California did not subscribe to this stoic creed. Out here, whatever made you look better was all important. Even minimal touches of gold accessories like earrings and necklaces added to a woman's arsenal. They drew your eye to their better facial features and delicate ears. Gold bangle bracelets worked for emphasizing beautifully manicured nails. Autumn took many mental notes. There were certainly many ways to look feminine in a business setting! So why couldn't this translate easily to a riding stable? Even Marilyn Monroe managed to look quite sexy while wearing coveralls in an old homely aircraft factory.

She looked morosely at her nails. When was the last time she had a nice salon manicure? How about a pedicure? It would do her a world of good, she thought. Couldn't hurt. Pampering might even make me feel better. Reaching down to rub her foot, she felt the roughness of her skin. This has simply got to be remedied, she thought.

She went to her closet and took a quick inventory of her daily clothing. She shoved apart hanger after hanger with a clacking sound looking for something halfway sexy. "Hmm", she thought. "This might look good for Logan's next lesson," pulling out a white stretchy cotton shell. "It's about time I paid attention to my feminine side!"

She picked up a lined writing tablet and small wooden ruler she kept by her telephone table and quickly hopped on her bed. Then she began jotting down a shopping list. She drew horizontal lines down her tablet. At the top she wrote CHERRY WOODS MALL in bold black letters. Taking two pens, she wrote and then highlighted the heading on each of them. Column one said "Beauty Supply--nail polish (white/red/clear), manicure kit, pumice stone, mousse, hairspray, combs, brushes, hair accessories, scented shampoo/conditioner, blonde highlighter kit". Column two said "Department Store--makeup, jewelry, massage lotion, body lotion, push-up bra, assorted lingerie (thongs?), garter belt (black/white?), hose, perfume, dusting powder, bubble bath, bathing suit, cover-up, heels". Column three said "Health Food Store--vitamins, herbal teas, ginseng capsules". She had to smile inwardly at this one. A girl has got to keep up her strength. Beauty is internal as well as external, though not everybody in the world thinks so. Finally the last column she titled "Drug Store--birth control--over the counter (female), condoms, size? color? flavored?--get variety pack". This final one really made her smile.

"A girl's got to take care of herself, doesn't she?" Carefully ripping the sheet off the wired-topped pad, she put it next to her purse. "This girl is going shopping tonight. Next time Mr. Logan Graham sees me he'll be paying attention to something besides the horse."

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