Janet Dean

An Inconvenient Match


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       “Yes, along with five other families. The reason for this fundraiser.”

       “The fire isn’t your only problem. Everyone in town knows Joe’s up to his neck in gambling debts.”

       The sudden flash in her eyes promised she’d support her brother-in-law with her last breath.

       “Joe found the Lord and turned his life around. I couldn’t be prouder of anyone.”

       Family loyalty, they were both drowning in it.

       “So I heard. But his faith in God hasn’t solved his financial mess, has it?”

       Her gaze dropped to her hands. “If he had an education, Joe could pay off his debts faster, but all he knows is farming.”

       “Joe’s a hard worker. If he were able-bodied, he’d climb out from under that mountain of debt eventually. But he’s banged up and unable to work for what…weeks, maybe months? Add the loss of everything in the fire and money’s got to be a problem.”

       Eyes sparking with fresh indignation, she scrambled to her feet. “Do you get some perverse pleasure out of enumerating my family’s troubles?”

       In an attempt to point out the gravity of her situation, he’d gone too far and ruffled her feathers. Not an approach that would gain her cooperation. “I couldn’t be happier that Joe’s turned his life around.” He laid his plate aside, his appetite gone. “I’m not the villain you make me out to be.”

       Those crystal-blue eyes hardened until they glittered like multifaceted diamonds. “You and your family have—”

       “Does everything have to come back to that?”

       Her hands fisted on her hips as she bent toward him. “Pretend you’re faultless if you want. Pretend nothing stands between us if you want. Pretend the feud between our families is juvenile if you want. But that doesn’t change the truth.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t care about our relationship. But I do care what your father’s done to my family. Thanks to George Cummings calling our loan we lost our farm, land that had been in my mother’s family for two generations.” Her voice broke. “Losing the farm destroyed my father.”

       Abby’s allegations gnawed at Wade. His father maintained he’d done nothing illegal, nothing any good banker wouldn’t have done. Wade had been at the bank long enough to believe his father spoke the truth, but Abigail saw smart business decisions as treachery. To make things worse, she hadn’t forgiven him for breaking off their brief courtship years before.

       Whether Abby realized it or not, he’d done her a favor. Not that he could ever explain.

       “I’m sorry you lost your farm,” he said, “but I can’t undo the past. None of us can.” Wade plowed a hand through his hair, seeking some way to get past the feud. “Will you sit down and hear me out? Please?”

       Her mouth narrowed into an uncompromising line, but then she gave an almost imperceptible nod.

       Once she’d plopped down as far from him as she could get, he said, “The night of the fire my father entered a burning house trying to save someone trapped inside.”

       By the startled look on Abby’s face, she was as surprised as he’d been that George Cummings would risk his life trying to save another’s. How well did he know his father?

       “I assumed he’d been injured fighting the fire.”

       “Turned out he was mistaken. The house was empty. But during the search, he burned his hands and inhaled smoke that damaged his lungs. He’s getting his strength back and dealing with the pain. But he can’t feed himself, can’t hold a book, can’t do anything but stare out the window. The lack of activity is driving him crazy.” He let out a sigh. “Along with what little staff we had. Our housekeeper comes once a week but refuses to enter his sickroom. Cora got so upset with his behavior that she left and won’t return.”

       Everyone in town loved the Cummingses’ cook, Cora. If she couldn’t abide the man after years in his employ, who could?

       “So hire a nurse.”

       “We did. She quit.”

       “Take care of him yourself.”

       “I’m overseeing operations at the bank and other holdings in town. He needs more attention than I can give.”

       “If he wasn’t such a—” She sighed. “I’m sorry. The fire and Joe’s injuries have me as jittery as a new teacher on the first day of school. What your father did was heroic.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Why not ask the Moore brothers? They’re footloose.”

       “My father would prefer a beating over their homilies.”

       “Pastor Ted might know someone.”

       “Actually, I have someone in mind.”

       “Who?”

       In her eyes he saw no sign of awareness. She had no idea, even yet, what he wanted.

       “I’m looking at her.”

       Abigail’s jaw dropped. Wade wanted her to nurse the man who’d destroyed her father? “That’s ridiculous.”

       “Think about it. School’s out until September. You need money to help your sister’s family. I’ve got money to pay you.” He leaned toward her. “What do you have to lose?”

       Everything. Her family’s approval, her sense of loyalty to those she loved, her certainty that working for the Cummings would fuel town gossip—

       Shouldn’t Wade share the same concern? Why did he want her of all people? She couldn’t stomach the idea of being in George Cummings’s presence and knew he’d feel the same. “I’m the last person your father would want in his sickroom.”

       “Perhaps, but I know you can handle him. I saw you walk between those hotheads about to throw a fist. From what I’ve heard, you managed the one-room schoolhouse with students of every age and temperament and tolerated no sass. And you’re equally proficient in your classroom at the high school.”

       Apparently Wade had kept tabs on her. Why not be honest, her ears perked up whenever his name was mentioned. Not that she cared. He wasn’t a man she could trust.

       “That makes you the perfect companion for my father.”

       At the prospect of overseeing George Cummings’s needs, she gave a derisive laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

       Frustration rode his face. Closing his eyes, he battled for control until his features softened, as if he’d corralled them to do his bidding. Had he counted to ten or higher, as she’d trained herself to do in the classroom?

       He met her gaze. “This isn’t a joking matter.”

       Abigail couldn’t agree more. Perhaps George Cummings had another side if he’d risked his life looking for a victim of the fire, but he hadn’t shown mercy in his business dealings with her father. Losing the farm had destroyed Frank Wilson and impacted all their lives. A day didn’t go by without thinking about the penalty the Wilsons paid for George Cummings’s greed. Nothing could make her spend time with that heartless man. “I wouldn’t look after your father,” she said, forcing the words between clenched teeth, “if it was the last job on earth.”

       Unable to abide Wade’s presence a moment longer, she struggled to rise but caught a heel in her hem. He leaped to his feet and strode to her, reaching a hand of assistance, his eyes pleading, as if…

       As if he needed her.

       She backed away, avoiding his gaze. She wouldn’t be needed by a Cummings. Not by the father. Not by the son who’d tossed her aside as if she were unworthy of him. The only explanation for the abrupt, cruel way he’d broken off the relationship.

       “Are you sure about that, Abby?”