An Inconvenient Match (28 page)

“We have to call a loan.”

“The question is whose?” George ran a scarred finger along a column. “Five families owe the bank considerable money. But only one loan is delinquent. Delinquent loans don’t please bank examiners.”

Wade braced himself for what was coming. “I know.”

“Lois Lessman borrowed money to pay off their creditors almost two years ago but they haven’t paid one dime.”

When Lois had come to Wade asking for a loan, she’d been desperate. Joe was gambling. Her income couldn’t feed and clothe four boys. The grocer and Mercantile had refused to extend more credit.

“The Lessmans are just now getting on their feet. We can’t add to their troubles, can’t risk enlarging the feud.”

“The feud is the reason I let that loan go unpaid as long as I did.” He studied Wade under heavy brows. “If the bank fails, the entire town suffers.” George shoved the tome aside.

“The Lessmans don’t have money to pay off the loan. Joe can’t work and he’s still in deep with gambling debts.”

“They’ll have to sell their house.”

His father’s words sank to the bottom of Wade’s stomach. Abby would never forgive him. Most likely the town would never forgive him. “That’s heartless.”

“Figure out another way if you can. But the Lessmans owe this bank hundreds of dollars. They’re in arrears. The time has come to prove you’re man enough to make the hard decisions. The bank examiner arrives in two weeks. This can’t wait.”

A knot formed in Wade’s throat.
Lord, please let there be another way.

He’d check with businessmen leasing Cummings’s properties. Talk to the owner of the canning factory. Yet even as Wade made the plan, he doubted anyone in this town had the money to purchase the property they rented. Without a miracle, he knew what had to be done.

Calling the Lessman loan would pound the final nail into the coffin of his and Abby’s relationship.

If he hoped to save the Lessman home, Wade had to bring more capital into the bank. Now. He’d saddle Rowdy and ride out to talk to Leland Owens, hoping the owner of the canning factory would have interest in buying one of the rental properties as an investment. On the way out Wade would mull over other money-making ideas.

Before he did, he’d see how Seth was getting along. A miter box was easy enough to use but Seth planned to dovetail the corners of the jewelry box, difficult for a novice.

“How’s it going, Seth?” he called as he opened the door. Silence greeted him. Motes of dust floated in a strip of sunlight streaming in the window. “Seth?”

No answer. Wade took two steps. Stopped. His heart clutched, as if a mammoth hand wrapped around it and squeezed.

Blood.

On the tool bench.

On the floor.

“Seth!”

Wade spun around, searching the space. No Seth, only Abby coming in. “Have you seen Seth?” he asked her.

“No why? What’s wrong?”

“Blood.” Wade waved a hand toward the puddle on the floor and cursed himself for leaving the boy alone. Why had he done that! “Oh, Lord, I pray he’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Then Abby saw the glimmer of crimson and let out a gasp. “Where would he go?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ve got to find him. Make certain he got that bleeding stopped.” Wade paced the floor, thinking. “Maybe he’s at Doc Simmons. Or home.”

“I’m going with you.”

He was already halfway out the door with Abby at his heels. “Taking the carriage will slow me down.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder. A touch of comfort, reason. “Wade, if Seth’s lying along the way, bleeding, we’ll need the carriage.”

No point in arguing with the determined set of her jaw, especially since she was right. “Run to the house. Get gauze and antiseptic—in Dad’s room—while I hitch Beauty.”

A few minutes later, his mind racing with possibilities, Wade helped Abby into the carriage. What if the time he’d taken to hitch the horse had been too long?

Wade snapped the reins and Beauty jerked forward. The entire way to Doc’s, Abby sat beside him, quiet, stoic, except for her white-knuckled hands opening and closing, opening and closing.

They reached the white clapboard house, Doc’s office and residence, but found the door locked. Wade clambered into the carriage, dread coiled in his gut. “Doc must be out on a house call.”

“He could be at the Colliers’,” Abby offered, no doubt trying to reassure him.

“I hope you’re right.” Wade snapped the reins and turned Beauty east toward Rafe’s farm. “What if Seth lost too much blood and didn’t make it home?” He shook his head, trying to shake loose the horrifying images running through his mind.

Abby laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “He’s going to be all right.”

“I never should have left him alone. This is my fault.”

“Seth’s a smart boy. From what you’ve said, he knew what he was doing. Accidents happen even to experienced carpenters.”

Wade turned to Abby, drinking in her quiet assurance, her soothing presence. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.”

She smiled, and the tension in Wade’s chest eased its iron grip. “He’ll be okay, Wade.”

“I pray you’re right.”

Out of town, Wade gave Beauty her head. Along the way, Wade scanned both sides of the gravel road for any sign of the boy or blood. The twenty-minute drive to the Collier farm took an eternity. But then finally the lane came into view. “The gate’s open.”

Abby looked at Wade. “Why?”

Dread squeezed his stomach as Beauty trotted up the lane. “I don’t know.”

No sign of Rafe and that gun of his. They drove through the stand of trees and into a clearing where the log cabin faced west. The logs were chinked tight. The roof was solid. The door was peeling paint, no doubt battered by rain and sun, but nothing suggested neglect. What had Wade expected? A dilapidated shanty?

As they pulled in front of the house, Rafe stepped out the door, the screen slapping shut behind him.

Wade leaped to the ground and tied Beauty to the hitching post then strode to Abby’s side. They sprinted up the path to a stone stoop where Rafe paced. Brow furrowed, face pale, he looked terrible.

“Is Seth with you?” Wade asked.

Rafe nodded. “His hand. I stopped at Doc’s. He wasn’t there. I brought him home. Did the best I could, but…” He bit his lip. “I’m glad you’re here.” Rafe swiped a hand across a stubbly jaw. “It’s my fault.”

“Your fault? I shouldn’t have left him alone.”

He lifted bleak eyes to Wade’s. “I wanted to see Seth work. I went to your shop and startled him. He cut his hand on the saw.”

“No one’s at fault,” Abby said firmly, in control, keeping a cool head.

An example of how she managed a crisis in the classroom. Anywhere. Underneath that dainty, even fragile, façade was a strong woman who didn’t fall apart. A woman he admired. A woman who had shared that calm and tenderness with him.

“Let’s see that wound,” she said.

Rafe threw open the door and they entered a small kitchen. Seth, pale with his jaw clenched, obviously in pain, slumped on a ladder-back chair, cradling his bandaged hand.

“I stopped the blood and cleaned the gash. He’s got a ragged wound. He can move his fingers and feel pain.” Rafe’s eyes filled with tears. “My boy’s hurting.”

“Good signs, all of them. You’ll be fine, Seth.” Wade peeled back the bandages. The sight of the nasty gash flopped in his stomach. As ugly as it was, the wound would heal. “You’ll have a scar to brag to your friends about.”

Seth tried for a smile that faded faster than moonlight in the morning.

Wade redid the wraps then gave Seth’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Good idea to let Doc take a look. Make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“He’s really going to be okay?” Rafe asked. “I did the right thing?”

Wade turned to Rafe, really looking at him. The lines creasing his face had eased. Color had been restored to his face. But Wade also noticed Seth’s father stood taller, had a new lucidity in his eyes. Eyes no longer bloodshot. He looked different. Sober. “You did a good job, Rafe.”

“Thank God.”

“Believe me, I already have.”

Rafe dropped into a chair. “I need to thank you folks.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Abby said. “You did all the doctoring.”

“No, I meant about what you did before.” Eyes glistening, he glanced at his son. “You…you made me see what a gift I had. Made me see I was ruining not just my life but Seth’s too.”

“Pa, I was fine,” Seth said.

“No, you weren’t. These two made me see…many things.” He rose and stood before Wade. “When you were here last week, you said some difficult things to hear.”

Wade opened his mouth to speak but Rafe put up a hand.

“Those things needed saying. After you left, I lined up and smashed every jug of moonshine then destroyed the still.”

Wade glanced at Seth. The boy nodded. “You quit drinking?”

“It’s been a week now.” Rafe crossed to his son. “Seth stood by me through the nightmares and the shakes with prayers and a bucket and cold cloths. Now that I can keep food down and sleep, I’m seeing what I’d missed in that hazy world I’d holed up in. It’s been a hard week…” Rafe exhaled a shaky breath. “But it’ll get easier.”

A week ago Wade had tried to knock some sense into Rafe. To persuade him to quit drinking; to leave his gun hanging over the door where it belonged; to treat a lady right instead of scaring her half to death. Rafe had taken those steps, had gone through torment. He’d done it for his son.

A week wasn’t long, but long enough to rid his body of booze. Question was—would Rafe be strong enough to give up moonshine permanently? “That’s a brave thing,” Wade said. “I’d like to shake your hand.”

“Not as brave as telling a man he was losing his son.” Rafe clasped Wade’s in his. “I’m grateful to you for taking Seth under your wing.”

“Seth is a special young man.” Wade glanced at his apprentice and sent him a smile. “But then you know that.”

Rafe walked to Abigail. “Miss Wilson, I’m indebted to you too. Not just for all you done for Seth. But…” He cleared his throat. “That complaint you filed woke me up. Made me realize moonshine could rob me of the only thing I cared about. I’ve never been that scared.” His eyes filled with tears. “After Peggy died, I… I wasn’t a good father. Leastwise not the father Seth deserved. If you hadn’t gone to the sheriff, I might’ve never found the courage to quit drinking.”

Though Wade had taken exception to Abby’s actions, she’d been right. Filing that complaint had spurred Rafe to straighten out his life.

Seth’s prayers had been answered. His faith in his father and in God justified. Proof nothing was impossible with God.

The silence extended between them, their concern for the boy across the way connecting them while the fire crackled in the cookstove and the curtains danced back and forth in the breeze.

Wade clung to the hope that God would answer his prayers for his father, for the end of the feud and a new beginning for him and Abby.

“I’m relieved you’ve stopped drinking, Mr. Collier,” Abby said. “You have a fine son.”

“Yes, I do. And you’re a fine teacher.” His gaze found the floor then rose to hers. “I apologize for scaring you. I used that gun to keep folks away, folks just being neighborly. I thought if someone saw the sorry state I was in, got wind of that still hidden in the woods, they’d take Seth from me.”

“I’ll drop the complaint, Mr. Collier.” Abby reached out a hand.

Rafe shook it gently, as if he thought Abby might break. “I’m beholden to you.”

“Thanks, Miss Wilson,” Seth said, tears in his eyes.

“If the job offer stands, Wade, I’d like to tackle that warehouse,” Rafe said, fighting tears of his own.

“Sure does.”

“Now that you no longer need to play nursemaid to your old man, I’m hoping you’ll have some fun, Seth.” Rafe grinned. “Invite that gal, Betty Jo, to the ice cream social next month.”

“I just might, Pa.” Seth rose then wobbled. “I feel kinda woozy.”

Rafe gently pushed his son back into the chair then filled a dipperful of water from a white enameled bucket on the counter and handed it to him. “This’ll help.”

Seth gulped the contents. “I’m mighty proud of you, Pa. All you did, all you went through made me think.” He turned his gaze on Wade. “I still want to be your apprentice, Wade, but I’ve decided to finish high school.”

“That’s a good decision, Seth.”

“Miss Wilson’s right. I might want to go to college someday. Pa has taught me a man can change his path if the one he’s on is going nowhere.”

“You both have taught this teacher a thing or two,” Abby said, eyes misty.

Wade believed the cabinetmaking shop would succeed, but whatever happened, by finishing high school, Seth wisely kept his options open.

“Truth is, son, things change. When that change hurts, a man doesn’t hide behind anything. Not behind meanness, not behind a bottle, not behind a gun.”