An Inconvenient Match (17 page)

Across the way Seth, eager to help the burned-out families, cut the slats for the beds. The peaceful look of concentration on the boy’s face reminded Wade of the contentment he found creating furniture.

“Wade, why veneer the top of the buffet instead of using a solid piece of cherry?” Seth asked, glancing at the finished piece.

“With the uneven heat in many homes a veneered surface reduces the likelihood of cracking. Poorly dried wood increases the possibility. The mill supplying my lumber has gone out of business. I’m planning a trip to the Sullivan Lumberyard in Waterloo. Would you like to go along?”

“Yes, sir, I would,” Seth said, a big smile on his face.

“Speak to your father. We’ll go once we finish the beds.”

“I will.”

Wade wondered if Seth had a good solid bed to sleep on at home, but wouldn’t insult him with the question.

Seth turned to Wade with troubled eyes. “Miss Wilson’s been kind to me but now she’s upset.”

Seth called Abby kind. Wade had seen her kindness with George, the gentle way she spoke to Seth. Upon occasion, he’d even heard that tone connected to his name.

“Well, if that’s true, Seth, she’s upset with both of us.”

The boy tilted his head, his expression puzzled. “Sometimes you and Miss Wilson sound like you’re fighting over who you are, not over me.”

Wade blinked. His grip on the saw slowed. Why hadn’t he seen that? How could he and Abby find harmony and give Seth the help he needed?

Not that Wade wanted anything permanent with her.

Not that the Wilsons would allow it if he did.

He’d concentrate on his work, on Seth, and try to ignore the spitfire of a woman who occupied too many of his thoughts.

Yet he understood Seth’s dismay. How could he ease the boy’s mind? “I don’t think Miss Wilson’s so much upset with you as she is with your decision. She cares about you.”

“Reckon you’re right. I don’t know much about ladies.”

Wade chuckled. “You’re not alone. Few of us men understand women.”

“I figured you, ah, having a sister and all… Maybe you could help me understand Miss Wilson.”

“Can’t say that I can, but I’m willing to give it a try. What’s bothering you?”

Earnestness rode Seth’s features. “She takes care of her ma. Since the fire, she’s providing for her whole family.” His brow furrowed, as if trying to fit a piece into a puzzle that didn’t fit. “So why doesn’t she understand me wanting to look after my pa?”

No wonder Seth was confused. Abby’s behavior contradicted her stance. “She probably does understand, underneath.”

“Then why is she set on me going to college?”

“She believes college is your best chance for a good life.”

The boy raised baffled eyes to Wade. “But that’s what I don’t understand. My life is good.”

Not one whit of deception lurked in those blue eyes. Yet surely the boy’s life wasn’t easy with a father who drank too much. With a father who barely made ends meet. With a father who kept the community at arm’s length. Except for an occasional appearance at church or the feed store, Rafe was a recluse.

Was Seth deceiving himself? Or did he even know what constituted what most would call a good life? “What’s the best thing about your life?”

“Pa’s always been good to me, drunk or sober, but he hasn’t been himself since Ma passed.” Seth sighed. “He looks…lost. Each morning, he gets down on his knees and prays to be a good man, pleading with God for strength to not take that first drink. Pa doesn’t want to let me down.” Tears filled the boy’s eyes. “Even though he fails time after time, he never stops trying. One day, he won’t fail. One day, my pa will win.” Seth gave a dazzling smile like the sun bursting through an overcast sky. “Knowing with God’s help, Pa will defeat this thing, that’s the best.”

The backs of Wade’s eyes stung. This boy was like no other. Seth Collier loved his father. Believed Rafe didn’t want to fail him. Believed his Heavenly Father would help Rafe find the courage and strength to stop drinking. That faith never wavered. Seth stood by his father as flawed as Rafe was, not out of duty, but because he loved his father totally, without conditions.

Wade was teaching Seth to know wood, to craft furniture, but Seth was teaching Wade something far more vital.

“You know, Seth, I want to be just like you—a man with God’s own heart.”

Instead of a man with a heart too damaged to love.

Sunday morning Abigail sat with her family in their usual pew, grateful to be back to church as a family, to know the days of uncertainty would soon end. Billy slept in his mother’s arms. Ma held Donnie on her lap while the twins and Peter sat wedged between the adults.

Heart overflowing with thankfulness for God’s healing and the town’s support of those who lost everything, Abigail scanned the parishioners, asking God to bless each one as they’d blessed the Lessmans.

One of Joe’s blessings had come from an unlikely source. George Cummings had insisted he no longer needed his wheelchair, a generous loan considering her employer still struggled with shortness of breath. Ma had been wary of George’s motives, but when Joe hobbled down the stairs that morning, eager to get outside and into that wheelchair, Ethel had changed her mind.

Another blessing—Pastor Ted had set aside this Sunday to bring in used clothing, furnishings and items for those who’d lost everything in the fire. Chests of drawers, hall trees and chairs dotted the churchyard. A huge stack of linens, countless bags of clothing and several boxes of tableware all but filled the vestibule, proof of the congregation’s generosity. The ladies auxiliary would meet Monday to divide and distribute the bounty.

As Orville Radcliff rose to lead the singing, everyone stood. A movement out of the corner of her eye drew Abigail’s attention. Wade followed his father down the aisle to their pew on the far side of the church. The dark hair at Wade’s nape, damp and curly from a dousing, broad shoulders back, head high, he was an imposing figure, turning young ladies’ heads.

Abigail’s breath caught. Including hers.

A familiar cough proved the short walk from carriage to pew had taxed George’s lungs. Why had Wade’s father insisted on lending a wheelchair he obviously needed? Was he trying to assuage his guilt over calling the Wilson loan?

If so, God must be working in his life.

Her grip on the hymnal tightened. She prayed daily, read the Scriptures, loved the Lord with all her heart. Yet had she allowed God to work in her life, had she surrendered her will to God’s? Had she trusted Him in everything?

Unable to examine that now, she tamped down her uncertainty, forcing her attention on the words swimming on the page then lifted her voice in worship.

At the close of the last song, the congregation settled onto the wooden pews. As Peter watched a fly crawl on his arm, Sam snuggled against her. Hugging him close, Abigail smiled down at him. Within minutes Sam’s eyes closed and he slept. Children were such a blessing. The only reason she’d risk marriage.

Pastor Ted climbed the steps to the pulpit and asked them to turn to the fourth chapter of Ephesians in their Bibles. As he read the verses on unity, Abigail’s heart stuttered in her chest. God didn’t approve of strife among believers. That meant forgiving.

If she could forgive, how could she forget?

When George Cummings took the farm, his heartless actions changed Frank Wilson from a caring, fun-loving man into an unresponsive shadow. George made money selling Wilson land to the railroad while destroying her father, in essence killing him. How did George live with himself?

Her gaze traveled to Wade. The wide gap between father and son revealed their relationship. Was Cora correct when she said the day Ernestine left shattered Wade and George’s fragile bond? Or did Wade’s aloofness come from disapproval of his father’s business practices?

With every particle of her being, she forced herself to concentrate on the sermon and not on the man across the way.

After the closing song and announcements, people poured into the aisles, greeting one another and Pastor Ted.

In the foyer of the church, a cough slowed Abigail’s steps. She turned to face the Cummings men. Two pair of indigo eyes looked back at her. Only one pair kicked up her pulse a notch. As Wade’s dark regard rippled through her, her heart tripped in her chest then tumbled. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t be indifferent to Wade.

“I’m pleased you felt up to coming this morning, George,” she said though her gaze remained on his son.

Wade’s eyes twinkled. “Does that include me?”

“Are you feeling ill?” Abigail arched a brow.

“If sickness stirs your interest, I feel a cold coming on.”

The corners of Abigail’s lips turned up. A sudden longing to let go of the feud, to put that ugliness behind her, slid through her.

Orville Radcliff stopped beside them. “I was about to summon the feud police till I saw those smiles. If Cummingses and Wilsons sit in the middle pews next week, God will have worked a miracle in our midst. What I’ve been praying for.”

That their behavior necessitated prayer scorched Abigail’s cheeks.

George snorted. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

Orville grinned. “Good to see you out, Mr. Cummings.”

With dogged steps, Lois pushed Joe with Billy on his lap up the aisle. Ma herded the bigger boys along behind them. They stopped near George. What was this about?

“Thanks for the loan of the wheelchair, Mr. Cummings.” Joe offered his good hand. “I feel less like a caged lion.”

George took Joe’s hand gingerly in his bandaged palm. “Does that make you his zookeeper, Mrs. Lessman?”

To Abigail’s amazement, Lois and Joe chuckled along with Wade and his father. Ma didn’t crack a smile.

“We men take exception to being laid up,” George said. “I’m sure Abigail can verify I’ve been cantankerous.”

A flash of antagonism sparked in Ma’s gray-blue eyes. “
That
hardly needs confirmation, Mr. Cummings.”

“Well, we’d better be going. The children are restless,” Lois said then pushed Joe’s wheelchair toward the vestibule. Everyone followed her out.

At the door the pastor talked to Seth. Rafe stood at a distance, turning his hat in his hands, eyes glued to the floor. They must’ve sat in the last row for Abigail not to have seen them.

Oh, this gave her an opportunity to speak with Rafe. “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading toward the door.

With long strides, Wade circled her, blocking her path. “Rafe hasn’t been to church more than a couple times since his wife died. This isn’t the time to waylay the man.” His gaze softened. “Instead of pushing Seth to put his trust in education, why not assure him that God will take care of him, his dad too?”

Heat climbed her neck. “Are you implying I don’t believe that?”

“I’m suggesting you could give that impression.”

Abigail inhaled a shaky breath. He’d implied she didn’t trust God. Yet he’d never had to trust God for one bite of food, one unpaid bill. She’d seen that God helps those who help themselves. “You believe preparing oneself for the future shows a lack of trust? What would you know about providing for your family? Seth’s life is far more like mine than yours.”

Wade reached out a hand and cupped her chin. She yearned to lean into the warmth of his touch, but she’d learned not to rely on anyone.

“Oh, Abby, you’ve had to carry a heavy load.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Because of my family. I’m sorry.”

Unable to speak, she covered his hand with hers and soaked up the comfort he offered, and then stepped away.

“Well, my dad’s waiting. I’d better go.”

Wade returned to his father, who was sitting in the back pew of the now-deserted church. As the Cummings men moved through the open door, the Baggett sisters met them on the stoop. The sight of Wade surrounded by three gushing females sliced through her.

Why did she care?

Unable to examine the question, she skirted the circle of Wade’s admirers and hurried down the steps as Seth and his father pulled away in their wagon. Wade had been right. Church was not the place to talk to Rafe.

Rachel strolled over. “Looks like the Baggett sisters are determined to reel in Wade.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Really? You look upset.”

“I’m…confused.” About Wade. About Seth. About most everything, but she couldn’t say that, not even to her best friend.

As they walked toward Rachel’s house, Abigail sighed. “I don’t understand why Seth is in such a rush to grow up.”

“You were just like him.”

Abigail blinked. True, she’d pushed hard to attend Normal School so she could teach in the one-room schoolhouse. Summers she took additional classes enabling her to teach English at the high school. “But I finished twelfth grade first.”

“Maybe Seth’s desperate for money now.”

If so, Seth hurried to reach his goal for the exact same reason she had. Their families needed their income. She understood Seth perfectly. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t want more for him.