An Inconvenient Match (12 page)

He belonged to the family that had destroyed her father.

He opposed her over Seth’s future.

He’d tossed her away like a useless trinket years before.

And no doubt would again if given the opportunity.

And
now
he claimed to need her? Asking her to overlook all that stood between them?

She shook her head. “Too much has happened. Too much happens still.”

“If it would help make things easier, I’ll stay away, work late at the bank. Return home after you’ve left for the day.”

Had he read her mind? Knew she dared not risk being in his presence? Or was he as uneasy in her company as she in his? With every fiber of her being she resisted his entreaty. He was asking too much of her.

And yet…

Deep down she knew no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much she should, she couldn’t refuse. Not that she trusted Wade, but his loyalty to his father—the same loyalty she felt toward her father, bridged the chasm of their past.

“Please,” he said.

What choice did she have? They needed the money and she couldn’t refuse to help an injured man. The parable of the Good Samaritan made God’s position clear. She was to love her neighbor. Even if that neighbor was an adversary.

“Not seeing you at every turn would make my job easier. I’ll stay.”

His eyes warmed with gratitude. “Thank you.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “For what it’s worth, I suggest you take a long hard look at yourself. At the first sign of conflict with your father, you run. Running doesn’t solve a thing.”

“I may run from trouble. But isn’t it possible you see trouble where none exists?”

With that he left the kitchen.

The front door opened and closed.

Wade had gone.

Was he right? Was her anger over Seth not about his welfare? Her stomach clenched. Her temper defeated her good sense and God’s teachings.

Lord God, I’m sorry. What have I become?

As soon as she could, she’d apologize to Wade.

She hoped her hostile attitude wouldn’t get her fired.

Chapter Eight

A
s Wade trudged toward town, the morning sun beat down on him. He removed his suit coat and slung it over his shoulder, then gave his tie a yank, loosening the stranglehold on his neck.

Down the way, Martha Baggett hustled one of her three daughters along the walk…maybe Theresa, hard to tell from here. He suspected the family had selected him for a suitor and didn’t care which daughter he favored. Once Mrs. Baggett caught his ear, she’d delay his arrival at the bank.

He trotted across the street, weaving between passing buggies and wagons. Out of the Baggetts’ reach, he slowed his pace.

No one interested him except Abby. Perhaps he liked playing with fire. For underneath that proper exterior resided a wounded woman ready to erupt, to spew red-hot anger.

He was to blame. Why not admit it? Abby wanted nothing to do with him. She took care of his father for the pay, nothing else drew her. Not him. Not anything but money. His stomach twisted. Wasn’t that the usual reason to interact with a Cummings?

Outside the bank Wade shrugged on his jacket and tightened his tie, a vise-like grip that intensified every day he spent behind that desk. In the lobby he greeted the staff, including Leon Fitch. The man was capable enough, but lacked the initiative to advance beyond the position of teller.

What did Abby see in Fitch?

He frowned. Perhaps a man she could manage.

Outside his father’s office he stopped at the secretary’s desk. Reed thin and erect, Miss Detmer handed him the mail, opened and sorted.

“Nothing urgent.” She gave a polite smile.

He thanked her, and then turned the knob on the door with President etched on the frosted glass. A title he didn’t want, at least not here. Others did. Their cashier, Gene Bishop, was capable of handling the job. As was Regina’s husband, but tired of his father-in-law’s watchful scrutiny, Lawrence had accepted an offer in Waterloo. Perhaps he could be convinced to return, once Wade’s father understood he had no alternative.

A glance at his calendar confirmed he had no appointments until three o’clock. Dropping into his chair, he flipped through the correspondence then tossed it aside.

Leaning back in his chair, he plowed a hand through his hair. Would Abby leave? Cora had quit. His sister refused to step foot in the house.

No one stayed.

Not his sister. Not his mother.

Why had he?

He could open his cabinetmaking shop anywhere. Why did he plan to start here? In a town that sided with the Wilsons over the Cummingses. In a town where his father had the opportunity to criticize him, showing not one semblance of respect. In a town where Abby opposed him.

And made him want to disregard his vow to stay clear of women.

With all that uproar, why had he remained in New Harmony? A thought unfurled in his brain.

Love for his father did not keep him here.

Debt did.

George Cummings hadn’t shirked his parental duty to his children as their mother had. Wade owed his father, the one who stayed. Wade would stay too, as long as his father needed him.

He’d pay the debt no matter the cost.

True, Wade hadn’t confronted his father about the feud, about his mother leaving, about his father’s aloofness. That might be running as Abby claimed, but Wade wasn’t leaving.

Not that he feared going out on his own. Life would be simpler if he did. But remaining in this town didn’t mean he would give up his dream. He’d take action today. With some work their empty warehouse off Main Street would be the perfect location for his shop.

A knock at the door brought him to his feet. Harrison Carder poked his head in the door. Tall, with blond hair and beard, Harry oozed boyish charm. “Got a minute?”

Wade came around the desk. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

Harry gave a crooked grin. “Money. Why else would I bother a banker during his workday?” He closed the door behind him. “Got any?”

Chuckling, Wade clapped a hand on his friend’s back then perched on the corner of his desk, motioning to a chair. “Money I’ve got—with interest, of course.”

“Of course.” Harry took a seat, propping an ankle on his knee. “I’m in the awkward position of requiring a small loan to tide me over.”

Harry’s new law practice had a shaky start, but he’d assured Wade that every town needed a lawyer and he intended to get in on the ground floor in New Harmony. In a few months that ground floor had slid to the cellar.

“Before we discuss that loan,” Wade said, “I’m glad you stopped by. I need your services.”

“You do?” Harry straightened, his foot dropped to the floor. “Doing what?”

“I’m opening a business. I’d like you to do the legwork.”

Harry’s gray eyes lit with interest. “You’re finally going to make furniture full-time.”

“As soon as my father can direct this desk.”

“So how can I help? New Harmony doesn’t have complicated zoning ordinances or other legalities that could impede your plans.”

“True, but we’ve both heard of the mistreatment of workers in big cities. I want you to research what I can do to ensure employees’ health and safety.”

“You don’t need a lawyer for that.”

“I need advice from someone I have confidence in. That’s you. Unless you don’t want the work.”

Harry rubbed his hands together. “I want it, all right.”

“I’d like you to start today.” Wade rose. “Better yet, now. Come with me to look at the site I’m considering.”

“Glad to. If you’re paying me, I’ll postpone that loan, at least for another month.” He frowned. “You sure this offer isn’t about keeping a fraternity brother off the dole?”

“You’d take a job shoveling manure before you’d accept charity.” He raised his brows. “Actually I could use some help in our stable doing that very thing.”

Harry rolled his eyes toward the stamped-tin ceiling. “Makes a man thankful he got a law degree.”

“I wish Abigail Wilson could hear you say that.”

“Why? She got something against lawyers?”

“She’s got something
for
education, as if education guarantees an idyllic life.”

“I’d be happy to fill her in.” He shot Wade a speculative look. “Why care what this woman thinks?”

“We hold opposing opinions on what Seth Collier should do with his life.”

“I know the boy. He cleaned my office before I moved in. Did a good job. Heard his father drinks.”

“Rafe is the main reason I’ve taken Seth under my wing. Abby would no doubt like to sever the appendage.”

“Ouch.” A wide grin rode Harry’s lean face. “Sounds like you two are setting off fireworks. I noticed sparks the day of the auction.”

“Yeah, but these explosives aren’t pretty.”

“She sure is.”

Wade’s gut clenched. Was Harry interested in Abby? “I noticed you bought Rachel Fisher’s box lunch.”

Harry huffed. “Her father glowered at me all through lunch. She’s a sweet young thing but not my type.”

“Which is?” Wade forced out, feigning indifference or trying to.

“I like a woman with spirit. One who goes after what she wants.” He tugged on his neatly trimmed beard, watching him. “Someone like Abigail Wilson.”

Jaw clenched, Wade leaned toward Harry, taking his measure.

Harry chuckled. “I can see I’m treading water off your shores.”

“Your evidence is weak, Counselor.”

“The jury is still out.” Harry rose with a grin. “But I know when to rest my case. Let’s take a look at that property.”

Welcoming the change of topic, Wade grabbed a ring of keys from the middle drawer of his father’s desk. Out on the street, they turned left. A short block later, they reached the empty warehouse that Wade hoped would house his shop.

The third key Wade tried opened the door. They entered, looked around.

“If you ignore dust, cobwebs and evidence of nesting varmints, you can see the potential.” Wade motioned to a bank of windows along the right wall. “Plenty of light and ventilation. Huge elms shade the building in summer. A working pump provides water. Once I’m making a profit, I’ll modernize with indoor plumbing.” He let his gaze roam the interior. “I’ll put a showroom and small office up front. Furniture production will take place farther back.”

“Sounds like a viable plan. You’ll need an area for employees to eat their lunch and take breaks.”

“You’re already earning your wage.” Wade smiled. “I know the perfect solution for getting the place cleaned up. I’ll ride out to the Collier cabin. Ask Rafe and Seth to clean and paint.”

“From what I hear, you could get yourself killed.”

“Unlikely. But if I should disappear never to be heard from again, I expect you to prosecute.”

“You’ve got my word, ole buddy.” Harry smirked. “Don’t fret about Abigail Wilson. I’ll see she doesn’t miss you for long.”

Underneath that teasing exterior, Wade suspected Harry was dead serious. “Very funny.”

Well, he wouldn’t let Harry’s banter ruin his excitement. If Seth and Rafe took the job, in a matter of two weeks, maybe less, Wade could have the location ready. In the meantime, he’d order equipment and build those to-scale replicas. The work would be tedious and time consuming, but salesman samples would bring in orders.

Until his father healed, Wade couldn’t leave the bank, but he had set his plan in motion.

Everything would be perfect if not for the trouble between him and Abby.

Trouble he longed to ease. With God’s help and his own persistence, he’d find a way.

Not that he held any hope of a future with Abby. Yet the prospect of seeing his friend squire her around town didn’t sit well with Wade. He’d warn Abby that Harry was a charmer, a ladies’ man. Not that she’d appreciate it, but he couldn’t stand by and let her be hurt. His lungs squeezed.
Again.

Abigail leaned against the counter and let her gaze sweep the large, well-equipped kitchen. A mammoth stove, the vast work space and two enormous iceboxes could easily handle food preparation for lavish dinner parties.

Off to the side, the butler’s pantry’s floor-to-ceiling cabinets displayed silver serving pieces geared to lavish entertaining. Entertaining this house hadn’t seen. Or if it had, the Wilsons hadn’t received an invitation.

No matter how often she came in here, Abigail couldn’t get over the luxury. Proof she and Wade lived in different worlds.

Turning back to the tiled niche holding an enormous divided porcelain sink and faucets with hot and cold running water, she prepared dishwater. As she worked up suds and washed the dishes, tension eased from her shoulders and neck.

Once she’d put the dishes away, she took the dishrag and cleaned the stove and counters, working at a leisurely pace, giving George opportunity for a nap.