by Janet Dean
“I’ll be praying for your rheumatisn’t.”
“’Preciate it.” He steadied himself with a hand on the pew. “I’m sorry Joe and Lois had to sell that house. I’m praying for ’em. Reckon you could use prayer too.”
Cecil shuffled out the door, leaving her alone for that chat with God.
As long as Abigail could remember, she’d prayed. Read Scripture. Yet she’d fretted over bills. Over Joe and Rafe’s compulsions, Joe’s gambling debts, Seth’s future. The list was endless. Why hadn’t she seen that trying to save the day for everybody wasn’t in her power? Or even in God’s will.
“Lord, You are in control of this world. Forgive me for trying to rip control out of Your capable, powerful hands.”
Her faith was shaky. Why?
The answer—she’d wanted a rosy world, a world without trouble, pain or sorrow.
“Lord, I’ve been afraid You would give me more than I could bear. Yet Cecil accepts life as it comes, handling his troubles and pain by keeping his eyes fixed on You.”
If she didn’t trust God, what did she have?
A miserable existence. Fear, worry.
The words of the Twenty-third Psalm filled her mind. Her heart. Sheep follow their Shepherd. God didn’t promise a life without troubles. He promised He’d walk through the Valley with His children. He’d never forsake her, any more than she could forsake her family.
“Forgive me, Father, for not trusting You.” She slid off the pew onto her knees, weeping tears she’d bottled up for years.
When she raised her eyes, a beam of sunlight had broken through the clouds, coming through the stained-glass window behind the altar, shooting prisms of color through the sanctuary. She felt cleansed. A blessed peace enveloped her. The love of God. God loved her even when she was most unlovable. He didn’t love according to what she deserved. He loved according to who He was.
He loved her, loved her family.
He loved Wade. George.
All mankind.
If only she could love like God did. Yet how could she forget the hurt Wade had caused? How could she trust him when he’d tossed her away years before?
She rose and left the church. The rain was a mere shower now. As she popped up her umbrella, a smile sprang to her lips. Across the way a rainbow hugged the heavens, the sign of God’s promise to never flood the earth again.
As if God had planted the thought, she knew what to do.
She’d give Wade a chance to explain why he’d declared his affection one moment and walked away the next. Would his explanation enable her to forgive how he’d hurt her?
Or drive them apart forever?
Chapter Nineteen
Even getting soaked to the skin, a ride into the country had restored Wade’s flagging hope. Lord, if it’s in Your will and what’s best for Abby, have her come to me.
Filled with peace he couldn’t explain but knew came from God, he rubbed down Rowdy and watered both horses, then turned them out to graze.
He scrubbed debris off the bit then tackled the bridle and saddle. Once they were clean and dry he rubbed heated oil into the leather. Dry rot could break a cinch, sending a man to the ground. Or sever the reins, losing a man’s control of the animal.
The oil penetrated the thirsty cinch. Once he’d wished for an ointment to make him soft and pliable like this leather. He’d taken a while to learn the balm he sought could only be found in God’s Word and in the power of prayer.
As his thoughts drifted with the repetitive action, he released the shop—his dream—to God. Whatever happened, he trusted Him with the outcome.
Tonight he’d get his father’s answer. If George accepted Wade’s offer, they’d return the farm to the Wilsons. And restore the Cummingses’ tarnished good name. Only then could they truly move beyond the ugliness of the feud. And find harmony, even if that harmony came at the cost of his dream.
He’d still instruct Seth, pay him too. Perhaps one day he’d help Seth open a shop of his own.
Not that Wade would quit crafting furniture. Transforming wood into objects of function and beauty was as much a part of him, as vital as the air he breathed. Yet the prospect of spending his life behind a desk didn’t distress him as he’d expected.
The difference—he’d made the choice, not had his path mandated. He’d made the decision out of love for Abby. Out of fairness to the Wilsons. Out of obedience to God.
Maybe if the farm was restored to the Wilsons, his future could include Abby. He’d fought his feelings for her, afraid of traveling the same road his parents had, but no longer. He loved Abby, completely, totally, with every particle of his being. He’d fallen for her years ago at a high school picnic. Back then too much stood in the way. Now, he’d ensure nothing did.
His father’s mistakes had taught him the importance of establishing priorities. He’d never put anything ahead of God, ahead of Abby, if she’d allow him in her heart. Yet he wouldn’t push. She’d have to want him as much as he wanted her.
A cricket chirped from somewhere in the straw. An owl hooted from his perch in a nearby tree. All was tranquil. Yet a sudden death grip on the rag in his hand shot tension into his neck and shoulders. What if everything he’d done to prove his love to Abby wasn’t enough? What if—?
He gulped a calming breath and reminded himself the outcome was out of his hands and in God’s. God had a plan for Wade’s life. For Abby’s too. A plan that would be best for them both. If he wasn’t what Abby needed, he’d be man enough to let her go. Or so he hoped.
He felt her presence before he saw her.
Abby.
Silhouetted against the overcast nighttime sky, she waited in the open doorway, as if asking permission to enter.
His pulse hammered in his temples. God had answered his prayer.
Heart in his throat, he walked toward her, meeting her halfway, thanking God she had come.
“I’m sorry I had to call your sister’s loan. I—”
She brushed her fingertips over his lips, stopping the apology. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I blamed you for an action you had to take. The shock of Joe and Lois losing that house hurt.” She gave a sad smile. “More me than them.”
“I know.”
“Wade, I haven’t put my trust in God. I’ve tried to fix everything. Some of those things aren’t my business or even in my power to fix.” Her smile wobbled. “I’ve come from talking with God, really talking to Him, listening too.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I confessed my sin, asked for His forgiveness and turned my life over to Him.” She sighed. “Knowing me, I’ll be tempted to snatch it back, but the only thing I’m to manage, with God’s help, is me and my classroom.”
Wade lifted a hand to her hair, touching her, wanting to pull her to him with a desperation that left him shaken. “Oh, Abby, I love you.”
At his declaration she stiffened, silencing him as effectively as a muzzle. He’d let her have her say.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Wade, but trusting God isn’t the same as trusting you.” She looked away, then back. “Why did you toss me aside in high school? Were you only pretending to care?”
“No! Please believe me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Then why?”
The owl hooted again. Time ticked to the beat of his racing heart. “Some things are better left in the past.”
“Nothing stays in the past, Wade,” she said gently. “Those things creep into the future. I have to understand.” She swallowed hard. “Be honest and tell me why.”
She was right. If they had any chance for happiness, they had to face facts and share their feelings. The reality—he hadn’t been honest with her or with himself. He’d convinced himself he had to protect Abby from the ugly truth. But another reason kept him silent. Mistrust. Underneath, he’d feared telling her the truth would shatter the last hope of a future with Abby. Yet that fear revealed a lack of confidence in Abby and God to work it out.
He took her hand an
d led her to the bale of straw, tugging her down beside him. “The reason I broke up with you…” he inhaled, exhaled, breathing a silent prayer “…involves your father.”
“My father? How?”
“Frank found out we were spending time together. You know small towns—everything’s public knowledge.” She nodded, so he went on. “On the way to school one morning he stopped me. Livid at me for what he called sneaking around behind his back. He…warned me to stop seeing you.”
On her face surprise changed to shock then shock to horror. If only he could take back his words, but he couldn’t. The truth stood between them, stark and cold.
She bit her lower lip, then sighed. “Go on.”
“He said that if I didn’t stop seeing you, he’d send you back East to live with relatives.”
“To Aunt Gertrude’s?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
That question had sat on his chest for a long time. “I grew up without a mother. I knew how much you loved yours. I couldn’t take the risk that your father was bluffing. Or be the wedge between you. Lest one day you’d hate me for what I’d cost you.”
Her eyes turned distant, focusing over his left shoulder. “Pa died three years ago. Why didn’t you explain this then?”
“You loved him. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
The tears welling in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “He would’ve done it. He would’ve sent me away.” She shivered.
He drew her close, wanting to ease her pain.
She pulled away from his arms and scrambled to her feet. “I have to go.”
“Abby—”
“If I don’t get home to help with the picnic preparations, Ma will send a posse to look for me.” She laughed but the sound held no humor. “We’ll…talk about this later.”
With that flimsy excuse she shot out the door.
He wasn’t fooled. Abby was running from the information, from him, from the future they could have.
Despite all she’d said, she still didn’t trust him. Like a blow to the chest, that truth walloped him hard, shattering the hope he’d clung to. As he’d feared, the truth about the breakup had cost him Abby. Frank Wilson had won, even from the grave.
Wade had his father’s answer. Now he needed Abby’s. And he would get it today.
After he’d had time to think and pray about Abby’s reaction last night, he’d realized he shouldn’t have expected her to fall into his arms when she’d just been told the tough truth about her father. She needed time to digest the facts. To see how she felt about her father’s actions, how she felt about Wade keeping the truth from her.
The congregation of New Harmony First Christian spilled out of church, carrying picnic baskets and blankets, abuzz with speculation about what had happened to end the long-standing feud between the Wilsons and Cummingses. The two families had sat in the middle of the church, not shoulder to shoulder, but separated by only a few pews.
Oscar Moore sidled up beside Wade and his father, grinning like a Cheshire cat with a secret. Tugging on his suspenders, he leaned in. “Glad to help you out today,” he said in a stage whisper then with a wink, he ambled on.
“What’s that about?” his father asked.
“A plan. A plan for my future.”
George grinned. “I hope that plan includes Abigail.”
Wade hoped the same. But where was Abby? She hadn’t come out of the church.
Before he could go inside to look for her, Joe stopped in front of his father, both men leaning on canes.
With a wide smile on his face, Joe shook George’s hand. “I’m beholden to you for saving my life, Mr. Cummings.”
“The Lord put me there at the right time and the right place for that very purpose.”
“I’m mighty grateful for His care and for yours. If I can do anything for you, ask.”
Across the way families carried baskets to tables constructed from sawhorses and boards, dropping off dishes, then spread out, searching for shade. He needed to set his plan in motion before the picnic began.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, I have a lady to see,” Wade said then took the church steps two at a time.
With Wade’s assertion that he loved her roiling inside, Abigail sat beside Ma. Her hand sought her neck, then she remembered she’d removed the baby ring she’d worn on a chain all these years. She still loved her father but she saw him and herself more clearly. She wasn’t Pa’s baby girl anymore. She was a grown woman at a crossroads. She fiddled with her skirt, pleating the folds with shaky fingers.
Ethel covered Abigail’s hand with her own. “Tell me what’s on your mind before you ruin your Sunday best.”
Would what she had to say hurt Ma as it had hurt her? Her breath caught. Or did Ma already know? “Wade said Pa threatened to send me to Aunt Gertrude’s if he didn’t stop seeing me.” Her eyes filled with sudden tears. “I can’t believe Pa would have been so cruel as to send me away.”
“Abby girl, what your father did, he did out of love.”
Ma had known all along. The knowledge pressed against her lungs.
“He truly believed Wade Cummings would break your heart.” She lifted Abigail’s chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. “With all that happened, can you understand why he felt he had to do everything in his power to protect you?”
“Was that love? Or revenge?”
“Your pa never stopped loving you, Abigail Louise. He believed the Cummingses couldn’t be trusted.” Ethel squeezed her hand. “He laid his feelings about the father on the son.”
“But Wade was just a boy when Pa lost the farm and the railroad money.”
“I know. What Frank believed isn’t the gospel truth. Trust your heart, Abby girl.”
Abigail wasn’t sure what her heart was telling her. She only wanted to get through the picnic, to escape the anguish of seeing Wade.
Ethel motioned to the back door. Wade stood in the opening. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she said then marched up the aisle, said a word to Wade then left the church.
As Wade’s long strides ate up the distance between them, Abigail’s heart pounded in her chest with every step. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He sat beside her in the pew and took her hand. “Are you hiding from me?”
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Maybe.”
“Why? You have nothing to fear from me.”
Desperate to make him understand, she said, “Love brought terrible heartache to my mother and sister. You and your dad were hurt by love too.”
“You’re afraid to love me.”
“The problem isn’t you. I believe with all my heart that you’re a good man. I’m the problem. I’ve spent my life half living, fretting. I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“I know what life is like without love. It’s empty, Abby. Lonely. Is that the life you want?”
Shaking her head, she studied her hand wrapped in his.
“I’ll risk pain over that awful emptiness.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Love is stronger than fear. When we love God and each other fear is defeated.”
Hadn’t she seen that yesterday when she’d talked to God right here in this church? Felt the peace that truly loving God brought her. Rachel had suggested God might’ve brought Wade back to her, a man to his woman. Wasn’t giving herself permission to love part of trusting God’s plan for her life?
“Do you believe that?” he asked gently.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“I think you’ll appreciate this,” Wade said then reached inside his suit jacket.
Her heart tumbled. Was Wade going to give her a ring?
He pulled out a document. Not a ring.
She bit back a sigh laden with disappointment. Perhaps she wasn’t as afraid to love as she’d thought.
“Abby, this is the deed to the Wilson farm.” He handed it to her. “It’s legal, free and clear. Harrison looked it over.”
Had
she heard him right? “You want us to have the farm?”
“The land rightfully belongs to your family.”
“Your father agreed to this? Why?”
His expression turned evasive.
“We’re going to be honest with each other, remember?”
“I told my father I’d work for him, give up my shop, if he’d return the farm.”
She shoved the deed away. “I won’t let you do that. You’re talented, a craftsman—”
“I didn’t have to.” His voice clogged. “Dad wouldn’t hear of my giving up the shop.”
Her jaw dropped.
“I can barely believe it myself. He says he’ll ask Regina’s husband to run the bank. I hope he agrees so they’ll move back.”
“I think he’ll agree once Lawrence sees your dad’s changed.”
“You’re a big part of the reason.” His fingers curved around her cheek. “Abby, don’t ever doubt I’d give up my dream. I’d give up anything on this earth for you.” His gaze darkened. “I saw what happened when my father put the success of business above my mother’s happiness. I won’t make that mistake.”
He took her hand. “Joe can work the Wilson land and provide for his family. For your mother.”
Momentarily unable to speak, Abigail squeezed Wade’s hand, fighting tears. “The farm is the perfect place for five boys to grow up. I see God’s provision in all of this. Your dad’s willingness to give us the farm isn’t the business decision he usually makes.”
“He feels guilty about the railroad deal. Returning the land to your family is his way of an apology.” He grinned. “Likely the only apology you’ll get.”
“As cantankerous as George can sometimes be, your father owns a piece of my heart.”
“I’m hoping I own the largest piece.” He gulped. “Do I?”
With a teasing grin, she cocked her head at him. “What do you think?”
“I think we’re missing the auction.”
“What auction?”
“Wait and see.” Eyes twinkling, he pulled her to her feet then tucked the deed back in his jacket. “I’ll keep this for now.”