An Inconvenient Match. Janet Dean
As he ran the sandpaper along the grain, he admired the beauty, the solid strength of the cherry buffet. A piece that would give years of service—could be passed down through the future owner’s family, a treasured heirloom.
Once his father got back on his feet, Wade would create furniture full-time. The empty warehouse they owned off Main Street would be a perfect location for his cabinetmaker shop. Soon he’d produce functional unique pieces.
Everything would be perfect except—
He had no one to share his dream with.
His thoughts flitted to Abigail but he quickly tamped down the notion of sharing his life with her. He’d seen how a dream could evolve into a nightmare. Surely his parents had once been united in their goals. What had happened to destroy the accord of earlier days?
A knock on the door frame startled Wade out of his reverie. Seth Collier stood on the threshold.
Wade smiled. “Afternoon, Seth.”
In need of a haircut, the hem of his pants barely reaching his ankles, his shirt rumpled, the lad could use a mother’s touch. Yet shabbily clad or not, Seth carried himself with a dignity Wade found remarkable considering the boy’s upbringing.
“I could use a break. Want to take over?”
A fierce longing crossed Seth’s face. “You sure?”
“You’ve sanded enough boards to handle this buffet. You know where to find the emery cloth.”
“Yes, sir.” Seth moved toward the supply cabinet, a smile softening his angular face.
“The Johnsons have selected this piece for a wedding gift for their daughter. Once the finish is smooth I’ll apply the last coat of varnish.”
Seth bent to the job. He had a light touch. A gentle way with the wood, as if he found contentment reshaping boards into a thing of function and beauty.
In that, Seth Collier reminded Wade of himself. But the comparison ended there. Seth lived with burdens Wade could only imagine. “How’s your dad?”
The boy’s hand slowed. “Tolerable.”
Giving way more information than he probably intended, the response twisted in Wade’s gut. Seth never complained, but in the months he’d been coming by the shop, Wade had pieced together a picture of his life. A boy without a mother, though Seth’s had died, not deserted her family as Wade’s had. More often than not Seth’s father lived in a moonshine-induced haze, leaving cooking, chores and the responsibility for eking out a meager existence on their farm to his seventeen-year-old son.
Compared to Seth Collier, Wade had lived a life of ease. He tried to relieve some of the financial burden by paying Seth for his help in the shop, but Wade wanted to do more.
Knowing what to do was the difficulty. Rafe Collier wouldn’t take a handout, would as soon turn a shotgun on anyone coming on his property to—as he saw it—interfere with how he raised his son. While in reality Seth raised himself.
“Want me to talk to your father?”
“No, sir.”
An uncomfortable quiet settled between them.
“I’ve been thinking—we could use a stable hand. The pay is good.” He studied Seth’s face. “The job would mean living above the carriage house.”
Seth shook his head. “Can’t leave my pa.”
Loyal to his father—a man who barely functioned and surely didn’t appreciate what he had in this boy. “The offer stands if you change your mind.”
Seth straightened and met Wade’s gaze. “Would you make me your apprentice? Teach me to be a cabinetmaker?” Words poured out of the boy with the force of an underground spring. “I know I’m asking a lot since I’ve got no money to pay you.”
At the prospect of teaching Seth the trade, of sharing what he’d learned with someone captivated with woodworking, a spark of excitement took hold of Wade. What better way to help the boy?
“That’s a great idea. I plan to open a shop. Not a factory per se since no two pieces would be alike. I’d create the design and handle detailed work like inlays, veneers and carving. I’d teach you to handle basic construction and finishes. Then later you could try your hand at more intricate work.” His voice rose with excitement. “You’d be a big help. I’d pay you.”
A wide smile took over Seth’s face. “I’ll be your first employee. I’ll quit school. Work full-time—”
“What gibberish are you planting in this boy’s head?” Abby stood in the open door, eyes steely, cold and turned on Wade. “Hasn’t your family destroyed enough lives?” Her fisted hands tangled in her skirts as if the fabric were the neck of a chicken about to be wrung. “I won’t let you destroy Seth’s.”
Heat sizzled through Wade’s veins. A Wilson couldn’t have a rational reaction to any idea stamped with a Cummings’s approval. “How can you accuse me of trying to harm this boy?”
Eyes downcast, Seth dropped the emery cloth and stepped away from the buffet. “I need to get home,” he mumbled then sped past his teacher.
As soon as he fled the shop, Abigail reeled on Wade. “Now look what you’ve done!”
“Look at what I’ve done? You’re the one upsetting that boy with that ridiculous claim I’m trying to harm him.” Wade’s long strides swallowed the distance between them. He stopped mere inches from her skirts, catching the scent of roses, feminine, delicate—at odds with this strong-minded female. “Anyone can plainly see I’m trying to help him.”
“By suggesting he quit school?”
“That’s his idea, not mine. I don’t condone—”
“Surely you can see this apprenticeship would be a mistake.”
“Mistake? To learn a trade with good pay and a promising future? Hardly.” He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.
Slapping hands on hips, she leaned closer until they were inches apart. He’d never noticed the little flecks of gray in her eyes before. Gunmetal gray. Shooting him down. Or trying to.
“You’re luring one of my best students away from getting his high school diploma and a chance for higher education.”
“I’m doing no such thing. Seth helps out after school a few afternoons a week. He’s shown the interest and aptitude of a craftsman.”
“With your family’s wealth behind you, you can risk a new venture. But Seth has no resources to ensure his future other than an excellent mind. I won’t let you waste his potential.”
Wade’s pulse hammered in his temples to an unrelenting beat. “Are you insinuating woodworking is squandering one’s intelligence?”
She glanced away. “Well, no, but Seth’s really smart. Capable of much more than—”
“Than what?” Wade tried to tamp down the frustration roiling inside him and failed. “Working with his hands!” He raised his palms. “Do these calluses disgust you? Are you so biased toward education you have no respect for physical labor? No respect for a skilled craftsman?”
She stood mute, face flushed, eyes shimmering like sparklers on the Fourth of July. She’d never been more infuriating. Or looked more beautiful.
Every drop of his anger evaporated, leaving him with a sudden insight he couldn’t stomach. This woman he’d cared about, this lovely, intelligent, capable woman was…exactly like his father. “Well, God has given some of us the desire—the gift—to create something beautiful, yet functional.”
“You can’t see the forest for the trees. No one job can provide security. I can’t imagine what would have