Free An Inconvenient Match by Janet Dean Page B

Not everything a Cummings does is bad.”
    Abigail shivered. She’d sat in judgment of others. God would not approve. “I suppose not.”
    She’d come looking for Rachel’s support. Instead her friend had questioned the wisdom of quitting the Cummings job. Even praised Wade and commiserated with his father.
    Not what she’d wanted to hear.
    But as much as Abigail wished she had another option, as much as it went against her principles to work for a Cummings, she didn’t have an alternative.
    Maybe Rachel was right. Staying near Wade’s workshop might be her best chance to influence Seth.
    Rachel walked Abigail to the door. “I’ll sleep on the decision, but if I keep the job, it’s not because I have one iota of interest in Wade Cummings.”
    “Whatever you say,” Rachel said, her tone laced with amusement as if she doubted Abigail’s claim. “Sleep tight.”
    With Rachel’s implication churning through her mind, Abigail doubted she’d sleep a wink.
     
     
    Wade trekked past the carriage house. The sun had risen with shades of pink streaking the eastern sky. Abby’s favorite color and the reason he’d bought her that ribbon. His sister had kept dance cards, dried petals and trinkets, every memento her husband had given her. Could Abby still have that scrap of satin? With all that stood between them that was unlikely.
    Inside the stable, he inhaled the pungent odor of hay and manure, oddly comforting, and went about the task of feeding and watering the horses. His father—intolerant of the slightest mistake—had fired the groom for some lapse. Wade could’ve hired someone, but he enjoyed coming out here. Or would, if not for the quarrel with Abigail heavy on his mind.
    As he filled Beauty’s and Rowdy’s feedboxes and water buckets, he admitted the worst part of this squabble—he needed her. To need a woman who looked down her nose at his dream chafed against his pride. Yet, even if Abigail couldn’t respect him or his work, how could she believe he’d harm Seth? Had the breakup destroyed everything she’d once seen and valued in him?
    With the animals fed and watered, Wade plopped down on a bale of straw to clean tack, a job he’d put off too long.
    Across the way, Beauty snuffled oats. Rowdy shoved his water bucket along the straw-strewn planks. A dove cooed from a perch in the rafters above him. All was tranquil. Except him.
    If only an ointment existed that would soften him, keep him pliable like this leather, instead of hard and brittle. He wasn’t the man he wanted to be. But had no idea how to fix his world. Not with his father, not with the feud, not with Abby.
    Finished with the task, he hung the bridle then checked his pocket watch. He had an hour before he had to prepare his dad’s breakfast. Time enough to add the last coat to the cherry buffet he’d promised Jim Johnson, a wedding gift for his daughter.
    Odd that others appreciated his work, but his father and Abby scoffed at his passion. They’d both eat those words once his furniture was in demand all over the country. Then Abby would see that working with one’s hands could bring both financial security and contentment.
    In the shop he inspected the work Seth had done. Pleased with the boy’s sanding, Wade grabbed a cloth, dampened it with solvent and cleaned the finish.
    “Good morning.”
    Wade jerked up his head and looked into the kind face of Pastor Ted, a brawny, blond giant of a man who appeared better suited to stand behind a plow than a pulpit, but God had called him to preach. Ted had overcome gambling, led Joe to repentance of the same compulsion and never gave up on anyone, including George Cummings.
    “I figured I’d find you out here.” Ted leaned against the workbench. “How are things going?”
    “Dad’s hands are healing with no sign of infection.” Wade grimaced. “His lungs are about the same.”
    “How’s his heart? Don’t mean the organ pumping his blood.”
    “Can’t say his injuries have