An Inconvenient Match (26 page)

“But surely, you care what Seth—”

An explosion from the gun blasted her ears. Heart pounding, she staggered, almost falling, a cry escaping her lips. The man was crazy. He’d fire his weapon near a woman who he surely knew meant him no harm. What else was he capable of?

“I’m leaving,” she said, hobbling backward, keeping her eyes on him.

Rafe Collier was unstable, a threat to anyone coming onto his property. Perhaps even a threat to his son. The reason Seth refused to leave his father might have more to do with fear than loyalty.

As she reached the sunny patch, she turned around and limped to the gate and hauled herself over it with shaking hands. As she lowered herself to the ground, she heard the sound of ripping fabric.

If she could get her hands on Rafe Collier, she’d like to shake some sense into him. Safe on the other side, she looked back from where she’d come. No sign of Rafe.

Ankle throbbing, she untied Beauty and climbed inside the rig and examined her split skirt. The two-corner tear would be hard to repair. As she headed the horse toward town, she knew what she must do. She would stop at the Sheriff’s Office and report Rafe Collier’s behavior. He was a menace to the community. And more importantly might be to his son.

Wade made the rounds of the Cummings’s rental properties, and then headed to the Carder law office. He found Harry at his desk. He released a gust of air, pleased to have paid the man for his business advice and the excuse for being in his office now. Still he had to wonder what Abby was up to.

“You look lonely without those paper dolls.”

Harry grinned then shoved a paper across the desk. “I lost interest in clients who couldn’t pay.”

A quick look at the list confirmed Harry had done his research. “These strategies should provide my employees a safe, healthy workplace. Appreciate your advice.”

“Underneath that courteous façade, I can see you’re as mad as a hornet.”

Wade harrumphed.

“Admit it. You’re upset I’m seeing Abigail.”

“You’ve seen her more than once?”

The door opened. Abby, of all people, entered the room. Hobbled, really. Her skirt was ripped, her hat askew, a smudge of dirt on her cheek. Wade lunged to his feet and covered the distance between them in three strides.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” Wade asked as Carder whipped around his desk and joined them.

“I twisted my ankle, my fault.” Abby plopped her hands on hips and glared at him. “But I could’ve as easily been killed.”

“Killed? Here, take my arm.” Wade put his other arm around her waist and eased her into a chair. “Did you fall?”

Harry turned the wastebasket upside down. “Better elevate that ankle.”

As she took his advice and gingerly propped her foot, Abby winced. “Rafe Collier is dangerous.” Troubled blue eyes rested on Wade as she explained what happened at the Collier farm. “I spoke to Sheriff Howe. He refuses to do anything.”

“That’s…ridiculous,” Harry sputtered.

“Why, the sheriff even blamed me for trespassing on private property. Said the Collier place is clearly marked Keep Out. I suppose he’d have been forced to take action if I’d been shot, but he claims firing a gun over my head doesn’t prove intent to kill.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Call me a coward if you want, but I felt threatened.”

“You’re not a coward.” Wade’s stomach tightened. What kind of an idiot brandished a gun around a woman? A moonshine-soaked recluse. “I’m sorry. I understand how Rafe frightened you, but he wouldn’t shoot anyone, especially a woman.”

She snorted.

“He
is
touchy about intruders. Not that I’m excusing his behavior. I’ll ride out there and have it out with him.”

“The man’s demented.” She glanced at Carder. “Sheriff Howe said I can file a civil complaint.”

“I can help you with that,” Harry said.

“Abby, think about this. You’re talking about Seth’s father,” Wade said, squatting on his heels beside her.

She turned troubled eyes on him. “That’s what frightens me most. I smelled whiskey. Who knows what Rafe’s capable of when he’s drinking heavily?”

Hovering over Abigail like a mother hen, Carder nodded. “If Collier’s inebriated that could affect both his dexterity and his judgment. He’s liable for a lawsuit.”

Carder practically salivated at the prospect of a court case. Wade’s image of the man slid from mother hen to bird of prey, a vulture or hawk circling overhead.

“Harrison, you know how I feel about lawsuits.”

Abby and Harry had discussed the topic? Had Carder proposed Abby sue the Cummingses? If so, that schemer needed a drawn-out dunk in a horse tank. Wade squared his shoulders, finding himself in the mood to get the job done.

“After today, I suspect fear is the reason Seth refuses to say anything against his father,” Abby said.

Wade shook his head. “Seth loves his father. He’s not afraid of him.”

Abby shook her head. “If he were, he’d never admit it.”

“Let’s address one concern at a time,” Harry said. “Collier can’t be allowed to wield a gun around a helpless woman, much less fire it, especially under the influence of spirits.”

Though Wade agreed with Carder on this, he struggled to see Abby as helpless.

“Were you afraid of him?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Rafe is out of control. He’s going to hurt someone.”

Harry took Abigail’s hand. “Why, you’re shaking. Let me get my legal pad. I’ll ask a few questions. See where that leads.”

By the time Wade returned from the café with ice for Abby’s ankle, Harry had finished his interrogation. The lawyer was beaming. “You have grounds for filing a complaint. To clarify, a complaint is not a lawsuit.”

Wade laid the towel soaked with cold water and filled with ice on Abby’s ankle. She flinched then tugged her skirt over her feet. If only he could take the pain away. Take away the worry furrowing her brow. But at least she allowed him to touch her.

She glanced at Harry. “Is there enough evidence to take Seth out of that home—at least until Rafe stops drinking?”

“Abby, don’t do that. Seth could end up a ward of the court.”

“That’s better than laid out in the church cemetery.”

“Rafe would never hurt his son.”

“Perhaps not, when he’s sober, but with enough moonshine in him, how can you be sure?”

“I’ll talk to Seth. Get him to open up.”

Harry rose and opened a file drawer, fingered the files, then pulled out a sheet of paper. He filled in the blanks then handed it to Abigail. “Read, then sign the complaint. If you wish to pursue removing Seth from the Collier house, I will file a petition in the county courthouse tomorrow.”

“I most certainly do.”

“Abby, why not think about this for a day or so. Give yourself time to calm down. I’ll talk to Rafe. Make him understand that he could have his son taken from him. That’ll frighten him enough to mend his ways.”

“And risk getting your head blown off with a twelve gauge?” Harry said. “Collier’s a hothead. Logic won’t convince him.”

“You don’t know Rafe. Since he lost his wife, he’s…”

“Off his rocker?”

“No. He’s struggling. Lost his way, but if given time, he’ll come around.”

Harry raised a hand. “Enough time and someone could end up hurt. Or worse. I can’t stomach he frightened Abigail. What man would do that to a woman? Only answer I have—a man who isn’t in his right mind.”

Abby smiled at Harry, no doubt grateful for his support. Wade wanted to slug the guy.

She leveled her gaze on him. “I’m not surprised we don’t agree on this, Wade. We rarely agree on anything. My concern is for Seth. Or for anyone who might stumble onto Collier property. Not for Rafe Collier.”

“Abby, you didn’t stumble onto Collier property any more than I did. Rafe brandished a gun at me too, but—”

“Did he fire at you?” Harry asked.

“Well, not at me.”

“Did he discharge his weapon?” Carder eyed Wade as if he were a witness on the stand.

“Only into the air.” Wade ran a hand through his hair. “I believe Rafe’s in his right mind and fired the gun to frighten Abigail off his property, not to harm her.”

“No-trespassing signs are meant to keep hunters or poachers off private property,” Abby said. “Not to keep neighbors from coming for a visit. Something has to be done.”

With that Abby wrote her name on the complaint with those lovely flourishes he admired. Her penmanship in stark contrast to the ugly intent of the document she’d signed.

Where would this lead?

One thing he knew. Rafe would rue the day he got crossways with Abigail Wilson.

Fists at the ready, Wade stood over Rafe Collier sprawled on his back in the lane. His shotgun and Stetson lay a few feet away. Rafe made no move for the weapon, telling Wade plenty.

Abby was right, but only to a point. He steered clear of confrontation—until Rafe threw the punch. Even a disciplined man like Wade had limits. Wade rubbed his sore jaw, the reason he’d reached his with Rafe.

“You treated Abby like a horse thief or worse! If you ever fire a gun at anyone again, man or woman, I’ll haul you into jail.”

Rafe lumbered to his feet. Head down, he rubbed the stubble on his no doubt aching jaw. “I didn’t mean her harm.”

The heels of Rafe’s boots were run-down. The hem of his denims frayed. The brim of his Stetson stained and worn. Rafe and his son were going through tough times. Tough times weren’t an excuse to frighten a woman.

“You’ve got trouble, Rafe. Miss Wilson’s filed a complaint against you. Worse, Harrison Carder, the lawyer in town, is looking into taking Seth away from you.”

Dark eyes widened with disbelief. “What? Why?”

“When you threaten a woman with a gun, you’re seen as crazy, even dangerous. That jeopardizes the custody of your son. What in tarnation were you thinking?”

“She’s pushing Seth to go off to some fancy college. He doesn’t want that, but no, she keeps harping on it.”

“She only wanted to talk to you. Now that stunt’s given her ammunition to take action.”

Rafe’s face fell lower than his knees. “You’re saying by firing into the air, I’ve given her grounds to take Seth from me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Don’t those no-trespassing signs mean anything? It’s my property. I say who comes on it.”

“Rafe, you’re not using your head. You haven’t since Peggy died. I should’ve knocked some sense into you when you pulled that gun on me.” Wade removed his Stetson and whacked it against his leg. “You passed up an opportunity to take a good-paying job. I suspect your drinking is behind all of this.”

Collier toed the ground, the mannerism familiar. Wade had seen Seth do the same when he felt uneasy.

“You’re a lousy example to your son of how to handle tough times. Moonshine impedes your judgment. Makes you unfit as a parent, as a man. Destroy that still, stop drinking.”

Tears welled in Rafe’s eyes. “Seth’s all I’ve got.”

“Then put that boy ahead of a jug of moonshine before it’s too late.”

Celebrating the nation’s birthday was usually the highlight of Abigail’s summer. But with George’s deceit and the complaint against Rafe increasing the trouble between her and Wade, even Rachel’s hug didn’t ease the tension swirling inside her.

Rachel twirled her white parasol accented with blue and red silk roses, festive with her blue dress and beribboned hat. “I’ve done my part by wearing the flag’s colors.”

Hands donned in her mesh gloves and wearing a plumed hat, Abigail’s lace-trimmed pale-blue-and-white-striped dress swirled around her feet as she and Rachel set off to stroll through the park.

“Abby, one day I hope to go to New York City to see the Statue of Liberty. Imagine what immigrants must feel sailing into the harbor welcomed by that impressive lady.”

“One day we both will. We’ll travel, visit the oceans and desert, see the world.”

“That takes money,” Rachel said.

“True. Have you talked to your father about attending Normal School?”

“Yes. He’s thinking about it.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around.”

As they passed the Lessman family, she and Rachel waved to Joe and Lois sitting on wooden folding chairs in the shade of a spreading elm. Lois held the baby while Ma supervised the older boys tumbling on a nearby blanket. “Lois and Joe must be excited to get into the new house.”

Abigail chuckled. “We all are.”

“After sharing your apartment for weeks, I can imagine.”

Joe hobbled to his feet, maneuvering with his crutch on the uneven ground to the row of six houses, freshly painted and close to occupation. Doors stood open, allowing the community to view the results of their labor.

“It won’t be long now,” Abigail said. “Cookstoves were installed this week. The mattresses and most of the furniture have been delivered. Wade’s finishing the last bed.”