by Janet Dean
That morning Cora had returned to the Cummingses’ kitchen, explaining Wade had stopped at her daughter’s house on the way to the bank and announced he and George had made peace. Abigail and Cora had hugged, first crediting God, then each other for the healing between father and son. With Cora back to stay, Abigail had more time to devote to George’s physical well-being.
The sooner Wade’s father could return to his duties at the bank, the sooner Wade would be freed from that chafing bit he despised and open his cabinetmaking shop.
Not that Abigail had supported Wade’s dream in the past, but since the visit to the Collier cabin, she wanted Wade to have the freedom of choice and the happiness he deserved.
She couldn’t give Wade her heart but in many ways she understood him. Understood the importance of that peace he valued. Just as soon as Lois and Joe settled in their new home and the burden of Joe’s gambling debts was lifted from their shoulders, she’d find that peace too.
Abigail rapped on the door then entered the library. At the interruption, George’s brow furrowed, but she paid him no mind.
“Time for recess,” she said breezily. Tail wagging hello, Blue ambled over for a scratch to his ears. “I’m serving ice cream and Cora’s cookies on the back veranda.”
“Can’t you see I’m busy writing a letter?”
“Teachers have rapped knuckles for far less defiance.”
“Is that a threat?” he said, eyes twinkling.
“Indeed. But since I’m merciful, your punishment shall be fresh air and small talk.”
He grinned. “At my age being treated like a kid is fun.”
Blue followed them to the kitchen where Cora was loading a tray with goodies.
“Join us, Cora,” George said.
“Not this time. I’m off to the grocer’s. How’s pork shank and sauerkraut sound for tomorrow’s supper?”
“Delicious.” George took Cora’s hand. “I’m glad you’re back. We missed you.”
“I’ll stay as long as you treat that son of yours right.”
“I’m not sure I know how.”
“Figure it out. Or I’ll return to my daughter’s.” With that, Cora grabbed her pocketbook and sashayed out of the kitchen.
With a grin, George met Abigail’s gaze. “Bet you didn’t know anyone could be grumpier than I am.”
Abigail chuckled and reached for the tray, but George insisted on carrying it. Though the effort made him breathe harder, he no longer gasped for air. Her time here was almost over. She’d have to find another job but she wouldn’t think about that now.
On the veranda they sat side by side in wicker chairs as they ate ice cream and cookies, enjoying the gentle breeze, the call of the birds. George tossed Blue a cookie. He gobbled it down, then plodded down the steps and sniffed his way around the lawn.
“We need to get outside more if for no other reason than to give Blue exercise. He’s getting fat.”
“Better fat than sassy,” he said arching a brow, “like some people I could name.”
“Cora?” Her chuckle seemed to please him. “You’re healing, George, your lungs and your heart.”
He lowered his spoon. “Does that mean you’re quitting?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Suit yourself.” Though the cheerless look in his eyes suggested George didn’t relish seeing her go.
Maybe she’d have this job through the summer after all. That she didn’t want to quit jolted through her. Perhaps the trouble between them was healing along with George’s injuries.
Joe was healing too. He’d helped clean up the new construction, doing what he could. Soon the Lessmans would be moving into their new home. Everything was working out.
Thank You, God, for creating us with the power to mend, mind and body and soul. Thank You for saving Joe when he needed You most.
The thought of Joe broken and battered, lying at the bottom of the steps in that fire tore through her. “George, what was being in that burning house like?”
“Like hell.”
She shivered and not from the ice cream. “What did you hear that made you think someone was inside?”
George’s tongue darted in and out of his mouth like a bad liar on the witness stand.
“You must’ve had trouble seeing with all the smoke.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes.”
“With the smoke you inhaled and your burns, I’m amazed you got out alive. I keep going over and over it in my mind, trying to figure out how Joe made it out with a broken leg and arm.”
George shifted his gaze away, but not before Abigail glimpsed the uneasiness in his eyes. “Stop yapping about that fire. It’s over and done. I want to forget it.”
She understood not wanting to remember the terror of that night, but why was George getting huffy? Surely he had to wonder how Joe made it. Yet his wary expression and nervous conduct reminded her of a student with something to hide.
Her breath caught. Could it be? “You know how Joe got out, don’t you?”
George blinked rapidly. “Why would I?”
“You know because you rescued him. The cry for help you heard was Joe’s.”
George’s gaze remained on his hands. He didn’t admit it. Didn’t deny it. Didn’t say a word.
“What happened that night?”
He rose to his feet. “Recess is over.”
She blocked his path. “You’re not fooling me. Why are you so secretive? If you saved Joe, you’re a hero.”
Closing his eyes, he sighed. “I did no more than any man would.”
“You saved Joe!” She threw her arms around him. “Thank you! With the feud dividing our families, I’m…”
A sad smile sagged on his lips. “Did you believe I’d let a man die because he was married to a Wilson?”
“No! What I don’t understand is why you kept your heroism secret.”
“I didn’t want gratitude. Don’t want it now.”
“Whether you want it or not, you have my gratitude.”
Tears welled in his eyes. “A man pays his debts.”
Had guilt over the feud, over the railroad deal, kept George silent? Whatever reason he had for his silence didn’t matter.
Abigail led George back to his chair. “Tell me about that night.”
His scarred fingers trembled as he wiped the tears trickling down his face. “I heard a scream. Stayed low trying to find him but couldn’t see for the smoke. Thank God I stumbled over his body. He was out cold, dead weight. Flames lapped closer, the heat so intense I thought we’d burn alive.” He looked at Abigail. “Some supernatural strength shot through me. I grabbed the bib of Joe’s overalls and crawled in the direction I’d come in, dragging him with me.” He stopped, his eyes glazed as if seeing it all again. “A burning timber had fallen, blocking the door, jammed in tight. I shoved it aside.”
“And burned your hands.”
“Yes,” George said, sucking in a breath. “Outside, I saw two men heading toward us. I slipped away, easy with the smoke and confusion.” He coughed, as if reliving the smoke impacting his lungs.
“Joe is alive, thanks to you.” She laid a hand on George’s shoulder. “You have my undying gratitude.” He looked uncomfortable with the praise, but she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. “God brought you to rescue Joe.”
Her heart swelled with gratitude not only to George for saving her brother-in-law, but to God for using the tragedy to heal wounds.
George looked drained of energy. “I’m going in to lie down,” he said then walked off, Blue at his heels.
As she gathered bowls and spoons onto the tray, a wind kicked up, carrying cooler air. The line of dark clouds moving in from the west promised rain.
Odd she could read the clouds yet couldn’t decipher the actions of others or even her own heart. She saw now that her view of her family and the Cummingses had been distorted. The Cummingses’ sins were no worse in God’s eyes than the Wilsons’. As Joe had said, a feud wasn’t
God’s will.
How must God feel to see His children lash out at each other, instead of living in unity as His Word commanded?
Through difficult circumstances and tough times, God taught the lessons she needed to learn. She hadn’t forgiven him in obedience to God. The command to forgive others didn’t hinge on their behavior. Only hers.
Unable to wait until evening to share the joy bubbling within her, she’d go to the bank. Tell Wade about his father’s heroism and the end of the feud.
Where that would lead she didn’t know. But for the first time in years she was optimistic that her future might include Wade.
Umbrella angled against the wind, Abigail hurried along the rain-slicked walk. At the entrance to Cummings State Bank the redbrick looked solid, dependable, exactly as a bank should. She closed and shook her umbrella, then stepped inside.
As she moved through the lobby, treading carefully on the slick tile, Leon scuttled around the partition. “Abigail, may I have a word with you?”
“Certainly.”
With his auburn hair slicked back and parted in the middle, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, Leon reminded her of an owl, intelligent and watchful.
“I haven’t seen you since the auction,” he said, his tone accusing.
As if the fault was hers. “I’ve been…busy. I suppose you’re the same.”
“I heard about your job.” His eyes narrowed. “Heard you were seen holding hands with Wade Cummings. Considering the feud, I gave the rumor no credence.”
Abigail scanned the few people going about their business, paying no attention to them. Thankfully word hadn’t gotten out about Wade’s kiss. Yet.
“George Cummings pulled my brother-in-law out of his burning house. George saved Joe’s life! The feud is over.”
As if her news were of no consequence, Leon’s mouth turned down. “So the gossip’s true.”
“You and I— Well, you wouldn’t call our relationship courting, would you?”
“What would you call it?”
“I’d say we’re friends. Comfortable with each other but not romantically involved.”
“Feelings aren’t a good basis for a relationship.”
She might’ve agreed once. But now that she’d experienced Wade’s grown-up kiss—
She gulped. Those kisses had shifted her world on its axis. Romance might not be everything, even the most important thing, but those feelings mattered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you thought we were serious. I like you but not that way.”
Behind his spectacles, hazel eyes hardened. “I’d be careful. Wade hurt you once. I remember.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“If he discards you, I won’t be waiting,” he said, then stomped to the barred teller cage.
Surely Leon wasn’t in love with her. She’d never seen evidence or given him encouragement. Still she hadn’t wanted to hurt him. Not when she knew the pain of a broken heart and had struggled since with mistrust.
Lord, heal Leon’s heart.
Outside the bank president’s office, George’s secretary looked up from her desk. “Hello, Miss Wilson.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Detmer. Is Wade in?”
As if she’d conjured him up, the door to his office opened. “Miss Detmer, would you—”
Seeing her standing there cut off Wade’s words and Abigail’s breath. Remembering their last time together, remembering that kiss, heat climbed her neck and flooded into her cheeks. His warm gaze swallowed her up. In his eyes she saw proof he cared. Why had she been afraid to trust Wade?
“Hello, Abby.”
The warm caress of his tone, the scent of his essence, those indigo eyes enveloped her. She could barely find her wits to tell him. “I have amazing news,” she said, her voice tremulous with excitement.
A quick glance toward the lobby furrowed his brow. Then he stepped back with a welcoming smile, allowing her to enter the office ahead of him.
“What a pleasure to see you here in the middle of the day, with a smile that would light up a room.”
The urge to hug him, to kiss him, slid through her, but she merely laid a hand on his lapel. “Wade, the feud is over.”
His eyes lit. “What’s happened?”
“Your father—”
A knock on the open door. “Miss Detmer’s not at her—” Lois gaped. “Ab, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Lois, you’re in time to hear the best news!” She clapped her hands. “The night of the fire, Wade’s father heard a scream and went into a burning house. That house was yours. God brought George to save Joe! Can you believe it?”
Expressions blank, Wade and Lois stood unmoving, speechless, as if struck dumb.
“How do you know that?” Wade finally said.
“George told me, just minutes ago.”
Tears filled Lois’s eyes. “I wondered how Joe got out with broken limbs.”
“Isn’t that incredible? After this, the feud seems…well, trivial. I’m sure you agree, Lois, that all should be forgiven.”
Lois’s eyes darted to Wade. The expression on her face wobbled in Abigail’s stomach.
Lois should be overjoyed, not somber. Abigail moved toward Lois. “What’s wrong? Why are you here?”
“Wade, I’d like Abby to sit in on the meeting.”
Nodding, Wade ushered Lois and her to chairs opposite the desk. Why these somber faces when she’d just shared the best, most astonishing news.
Did Lois need money? “Are you asking for a loan?”
“The loan I’m here to discuss isn’t new. Two years ago bills at the grocer and Mercantile had piled up. I couldn’t handle them.”
“I thought Joe paid off those debts right before the fire.”
“He did.”
“Then I don’t understand what this is about.” Abigail laid a hand on Lois’s arm.
“When I borrowed that money, Joe was still gambling.” Lois sighed. “He found where I’d hidden it before I could pay our creditors. He…”
Abigail swallowed against the bile shoving up her throat. “He lost the money at the poker tables.”
“Yes.”
One small word tinged with sorrow changed everything.
Abigail looked at Wade. “Who made that loan?”
“I did. I was home from college that summer.”
“How could you loan Lois money, knowing Joe gambled?”
“Lois came to me asking for help. Surely you can see that with the trouble between our families and the desperation of her situation, I couldn’t refuse to loan her the money.”
Lois took Abigail’s hand. “This isn’t Wade’s fault, Abby. I should’ve gone to the stores immediately and settled up with them then and there. But Donnie was crying, needing his nap…” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I blame myself.”
The fault was Joe’s. But to say as much would only wound her sister more. “Why are you here?”
Wade rose from the desk and stepped toward her, the look on his face knotting Abigail’s stomach and filling her with dread.
“That loan is delinquent. I’m asking for payment.”
Abigail stood on shaky limbs, threw back her shoulders, ready for battle. “You know they’ve lost everything and Joe can’t work.”
“I had no choice. Please believe I didn’t make this decision out of spite. In less than two weeks, the bank examiner will inspect our books. Low cash reserves and a longstanding delinquent loan won’t meet state bank standards. That loan must be paid and off our books.”
Wade reached for her. She swatted at his hand. “How do you suggest they do that? Lois and Joe don’t have money to pay off that loan. No one in our family does!”
Lois rose and put an arm around Abigail. “Ab, folks in this town depend on the bank. Wade’s trying to protect their money.”
“Fine, but how will you pay the loan back?”
Lois sighed. “I used our house as collateral.”
“Your house burned to the
ground.”
“The new house is finished. We’ll have to sell.” Lois’s face crumpled and she let out a soft moan. “My poor boys.”
Abigail gasped.
Wade took her sister’s hand. “The new house should bring more than you owe. Perhaps you can apply the rest of the money toward rent.”
“Just like that?” Abigail’s hands curled into fists. She wanted to pound them into that broad chest, to hurt Wade as he was hurting Lois. “When they’re finally getting on their feet!”
“Stop blaming Wade. Joe and I brought this on ourselves.”
“Who’s to blame doesn’t matter.” Abigail had to persuade Wade to change his mind. If he had a heart, he’d find another way. “The boys need a yard. A room of their own. Please, Wade, please don’t hurt those children.”
Dark eyes glistening, he met her gaze. “I’d pay off the loan myself if I could.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t have a choice.”
“We always have a choice! You criticized your father for valuing money more than people, but he risked his life for Joe.” Abigail flailed a hand. “What have you done for anyone?”
At his silence she gave a strangled laugh. “I thought you cared about me.”
He jerked up his head. “I do care about you.”
She’d thought he loved her. Though until this moment she hadn’t admitted how much she cared, even to herself. Now the possibility for a future tumbled away, an avalanche she couldn’t stop.
“You can’t possibly care and be this cold and unfeeling to my family.” She closed her eyes as memories came rushing back. Memories of the pain Wade had given her all those years ago. But this time he was hurting innocent children.
The Cummingses had money. She didn’t believe Wade couldn’t help. Did greed drive him as it had his father?
She took her sister by the arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
Lois pulled back. “I need to stay and sort out the details.”
Abigail turned on Wade. His face was ashen, his brow furrowed. His eyes locked with hers.
Eyes she’d foolishly admired, gotten lost in. Those connections she’d felt between them… Wade Cummings was an actor, just like his mother. Well, she couldn’t abide one more moment working in the Cummings house. “Consider this my notice. I quit!”