Break the Faith

by M. Mabie

  Sitting on the bar stool in front of Violet, I took a sip of the drink she’d poured for me. My cheeks flushed hot thinking about it.

  “That good huh?” Ashley asked.

  “Abe is the man,” Chris countered as he lifted the lid off the Crock-Pot. “I hope you made something else for you two because I can put all this down myself.” There was no way it was possible, but I didn’t doubt he’d put a healthy dent in it.

  “Must have been a quick trip if you left yesterday afternoon and got back this morning. You should have stayed tonight too.” Ashley twisted her purple hair up into a bun as she nestled herself on the other bar stool.

  I wrinkled my nose at my friend, wishing I could have stayed with Abe. “I needed to pick the machine up. Besides, he had to work. I would have gone crazy sitting in that hotel room by myself all day.”

  “I’m sure he was glad to see you.” Chris lifted Violet from her car carrier and held her, taking a seat at the dining table. “It was hell being away from these two. And that guy has been pushing, sunup to sundown, to get back home as soon as he can. I’m going in early tomorrow to get all the ripped sticks stacked and drying in the hot house, then I’m taking a load from our inventory back Monday for delivery. I imagine he’ll be bringing another truck back Tuesday or so. Especially if he keeps pushing this weekend like he has been.”

  Hearing he might be back in a few short days, even if it was only for a night, gave me some comfort.

  “I miss him a lot,” I admitted.

  “I bet you do, and we’re going to miss him when he goes full-time for himself. He’s a hell of a hard worker.” He chuckled and added, “At least we’ll be getting a customer out of the deal though. At least, that jackass better be getting his lumber from us.”

  Ashley and I both laughed. There was no doubt they’d feel his absence at the mill sooner than later, but they’d figure it out. Hire someone knew. Maybe even a few someones.

  “Have you started planning stuff for the wedding yet?” Ashley asked. “Like have you thought about bridesmaids or anything?” Her grin was full of mischief.

  I’d read a few articles online about modern weddings and how there were groomsmen and bridesmaids, but I hadn’t given it too much thought with everything else going on. The wedding seemed like the furthest thing from my mind. I was simply happy being engaged.

  “Well, I don’t know many people, but—” I began, spinning my beautiful ring around my finger.

  “Yes. I’ll be your matron of honor, but for the record, that’s not a fantastic way to butter a girl up.” She lifted her wine glass and pointed the mouth of it at me. “Let’s toast.”

  I’d never done that before, but I mirrored what she did with her glass because it felt like the thing to do. She bumped the rims together and said, “To Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway.”

  I smiled loving the way it sounded and just all around happy that others were excited for us.

  “Yay,” Chris cheered from the table in a soft voice, lifting Violets hand in the air. “And Uncle Abe will have me as his best man because me and Ash are a package deal and the furry curmudgeon doesn’t have any friends.”

  I wasn’t sure about the curmudgeon part, but he was right about being furry and not having many friends. Although, I didn’t see anything wrong with having a small circle of people. Especially if they were the right ones.

  And I was certain the people in our cabin we’re right for us.

  24

  Abe

  When I made it back to my room that night, I was bored to death. Myra sent me a picture of her and Violet earlier when I messaged to see what she was up to. She’d invited Chris and Ashley over for supper.

  So basically, I was lounging around, flipping the channels, and burning time until she called me before bed.

  It had been so nice having her there the night before, and if it weren’t for it being dangerous and all-out stupid to do tree work after dark, I’d be out there day and night to get home faster.

  The other problem was, I couldn’t quit thinking about the box of letters on the table a few feet away. I didn’t want to read them. Not without her. Not at all really.

  Still, in the solace of my hotel room, they called to me.

  Having only listened to Myra read the letter Andrew had written us, I had so many questions. Were Jacob and Andrew together? Romantically?

  Not that I felt anything against it. I believed a person was given free will by God and born perfectly who they were supposed to be, in that respect. It was just surprising.

  It pained me to think Jacob lived his life hiding who he was inside. It must have been hell for him all those years.

  Inside, I felt the guilt of leaving him. Shame for not reaching out or going back for him later. The logical part of my brain knew I wasn’t responsible for what he went through. I’d once been living in that hell myself. But as I lay there, wondering about what could have been for him, I almost missed my phone ringing.

  Myra was recusing me from myself once again.

  “Hello,” I said, looking at the ceiling.

  “Abraham.”

  In one word, my mood changed.

  “The only reason I want to hear from you is if you have Myra’s money,” I growled over the line to my father. I wasn’t wasting time on pleasantries anymore. He knew what we wanted and if the call wasn’t about him handing it over, I didn’t have anything to say.

  “It’ll be transferred in a day or so. I need your bank’s information to have it wired.”

  I sat up, unprepared for him to answer that way. Even his tone was different.

  “All of it?”

  “Two hundred and forty-five thousand.”

  Two hundred and forty-five thousand dollars. My God.

  The hair stood up on my arms and a rush of adrenaline surged through me. The past few weeks had been like a mental boxing match. Taking hits and only delivering them when I could.

  This almost felt like a win, but not the kind I craved. I’d wanted to knock him out. I’d expected to battle him, and I wanted to beat him.

  Was this hush money?

  What were the conditions? Because I wasn’t agreeing to anything.

  “And your cut?” I asked, knowing he’d pad his or the churches pockets in the name of tithing.

  “None. It’s all there. I have the paperwork to prove it.”

  Something wasn’t right. Then again, when it came to him—when it came to Lancaster—it seldom ever was.

  “I’m not playing your games. You’re not just handing it over without strings attached.”

  “Do you want it or not?” The typical annoyance in his voice was present, but I also heard an unfamiliar weakness. “Things are changing. So if you want her money, now is the time. You might not have another chance.”

  He was right. Things were changing, but I was shocked to hear him admit it. Something major was going on, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Asking questions usually only gave me answers I didn’t like. Especially from him.

  “Can’t you just write a check? Mail it?” Naturally, I wasn’t comfortable giving him my banking information. Not only that, but wouldn’t there be taxes and other hoops to jump through with such a large sum of money?

  “There’s no time for it. Call your bank in the morning and get a routing number. I’ll have it wired first thing.” I looked at the screen and noticed he wasn’t calling from home. So many factors weren’t adding up.

  “Free and clear?”

  “Free and clear.”

  The more agreeable he was, the more skeptical I became.

  “Listen. If you’re trying to pull something—if I even sense that you’re roping Myra or me into a situation we don’t want to be a part of—I will...”

  “You’ll what? Call the police? What will you tell them? That I helped your wife sell a house and collect her late husband’s insurance? Helped her settle her inheritance? Tell me, Abraham. What are you going to do?” There he was. The man I grew up with. The man
I despised.

  “Why are you handing it over now? I’m not buying it.”

  “You don’t have to buy anything. You said you wanted it. Here it is.” He sighed over the line, cooling the heated turn the call had taken. “You may not get another chance. Send me an address to have the paperwork couriered to Monday morning—you’ll see it’s all legit—and then message me your bank’s information, and I’ll get it done.”

  I didn’t trust him, but if he was willing to send proof that it was hers, free and clear, like he claimed, maybe I didn’t have to. It would all be there in black and white.

  I’d suspected she was entitled to a large sum, but I never believed he’d hand it over. Not all of it. Not like this. Not so easily.

  “Abraham, have you or Myra spoken to anyone else from here?”

  My mind went to Robbie. “No. I don’t make it a habit of talking to anyone from Lancaster.”

  “Not even Myra’s family? Matthew?”

  “No. No one. They don’t give her the time of day, and that’s their loss.” Andrew’s letter and what he said about Matthew haunted me. My father was a monster, but he never tried to hide it from me. Matthew was almost more frightening because he worked in the shadows.

  If I wanted to know more, I’d have to read Jacob’s letters.

  But after I did, would I ever be able to turn a blind eye? Would I be able to help Myra with whatever she had planned and move on? Or would I want something more?

  Would I want revenge?

  “I’ll talk to you Monday,” I said and hung up.

  It was over an hour later when Myra finally FaceTimed me.

  “She’s just so cute, Abe,” she went on about Violet. I’d never seen my girl drunk before, but from the way she was talking and flushed I’d guess she was slightly more than buzzed. Luckily, she was home and didn’t have to drive anywhere and seeing her smile and laugh made my head clear.

  “Think you’ll want one or two someday?” I asked, allowing the conversation to stay light. I didn’t want to discuss the money over the phone, and I didn’t want to get her hopes up until everything was set in stone.

  I would never trust anything my father said at face value.

  “I do. They’ll probably have your hazel eyes and dark hair. Those are more dominate traits than my blue and blonde. I learned that in science.” She blinked lazily and yawned, propped up against the headboard in our room.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and have one of each. A blond and a brunette.” Secretly, I couldn’t help but hope in the future we had boys because a baby girl would own my soul from day one. I wasn’t sure how fathers of little girls ever let them out of their sight. Knowing how evil the world could be I’d be a nervous wreck every hour of everyday worrying if they were safe.

  “Or twins. My brother Mitchell has a set. Can you imagine? Two babies at once?”

  “I don’t know about all that.”

  “Yeah, twice the diapers.” She giggled and brushed the hair out of her face. “You’re right. One at a time would be better.”

  God, what I wouldn’t give to be home. “I’m missing you.”

  “I miss you too.” She yawned again, followed by a hiccup. “The bed is cold without you.”

  As far as I was concerned, the world was cold without her. She could warm any room with that smile. “Just a few more days and I’ll be there.”

  “But I want you forever. I never want you to leave for this long again.”

  It was music to my ears. When we first met, she’d barely look me in the eyes. Now, here she was asking for exactly what she wanted. “Then after this job I won’t.”

  “Really?”

  I kicked my legs until they worked their way under the blankets. “Really.”

  “Good. I’m sleepy. Ashley kept filling my wine glass, and I think it’s making me tired.”

  Lucky for Ashley, Myra didn’t seem ill. I’d have a bone to pick with her if she’d gotten my girl wasted and then left her alone. I wasn’t too concerned though because Myra looked peaceful and just fine.

  “Let’s get some sleep and cross this day off. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I love you, Abe.”

  “I love you too.”

  “No. I really love you. I didn’t even know love existed like this. Sometimes I think I love you more than God.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was still working through her faith, in her own time, but I knew how much she’d loved God when we first met. If her love for me was even close to that big, I’d gladly take it.

  “We don’t need God getting jealous,” I told her. We needed him on our side.

  She thought I was funny and wrinkled her nose. “He’s not jealous. After all, he’s the one who gave me you.”

  Myra had that right.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I hit the ground running.

  For as many days in a row as we’d worked, the crew was still in good spirits and tackling every track just as hard as day one. So just before lunch, I sent Davie, one of the younger guys, back to Nelson to fill up the coolers with drinks and grab sub sandwiches for everyone.

  While they ate, I pulled Lindy’s card out of my wallet. She’d given me her cell number because she knew I would be out of town for work while we were sorting everything out for the building, and I hated calling her on a Sunday, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  I’d never had money wired to my account before. On top of that, I wanted her to be aware of what was going on just in case something wasn’t on the up and up. If anyone, she’d be able to give me some advice or at least insight on what I could expect by accepting that large sum of money, or if the bank would allow it.

  “This is Lindy,” she answered.

  I was tired of dealing with so much over the phone, but I needed her help. “Hey, Lindy. It’s Abe. I’m sorry for calling you on the weekend. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m just watching TV. What can I do for you?”

  I didn’t know how much she remembered about me from the first time I’d wandered into the bank or how much Myra had told her about her life before moving to Fairview, but our situation wasn’t normal. So as briefly as I could make it, I told her what was going on.

  Patiently, she listened and only stopped me a few times to ask questions.

  “Abe, I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. Of course, I’ll do all I can to help. Certainly, Myra is entitled to her insurance money from the passing of her first husband and the sale of a property.”

  That was good to hear.

  “Additionally, if she has an inheritance or family money owed to her, that shouldn’t be an issue either. Those aren’t uncommon transactions. What I would suggest is, as soon as you can, hire an attorney and a good accountant. As your banker, I don’t feel comfortable recommending any, but as a friend I’d encourage you to ask others you know if they have anyone they’ve used before. As far as the transfer goes, if he’s got paperwork for you proving where the money is being allocated from, I don’t see any issue. The smartest thing to do would be to set up a separate account and put it there to hold until you’ve spoken to a lawyer and an accountant.”

  I leaned against the flatbed and picked bark off one of the logs. “Thank you. That’s all sound advice.”

  “Well, I will warn you. If things in Lancaster are as bad as you say, there still could be issues with it. If it’s been embezzled, it could be seized, but honestly, it sounds like Myra has claim to that money, and I really hope that’s the case. I’m happy to look the papers over and set up the transfer, but I’d strongly suggest you have a lawyer look at them too as soon as you get back.”

  After the last few weeks, I’d dealt more with money than I’d ever had to. I thought not having money was stressful, but as it turns out having some isn’t a joyride either. However, I was relieved Lindy was willing to help.

  “I’ll let you get back to your Sunday, and I’ll have the paperwork send straight to you
in the morning. If you can open a new account for us to put the transfer in, I think that is a good plan. Is there anything else I need to do?”

  She hummed in thought. “I can’t think of anything, but I have your number. After I look everything over, I’ll give you a call tomorrow. And again Abe, I’m so sorry you two have been through so much. But you’re doing the right things and I see only good stuff in the future for you and Myra.”

  From her lips to God’s ears.

  25

  Myra

  I danced around the cabin, looking at the mess I’d made, but also the two cushions I’d assembled. They were far—and I mean far—from perfect, but they were a good start. My corners weren’t as neat or tight as I’d like, but I’d get better. The foam I’d used from Hobby Lobby probably wasn’t going to hold up very long, and so I’d need to do some research on where to find better quality materials. Especially ones up to the standards of Abe’s craftmanship.

  Overall, I was confident I could do it. The best part was how much fun I’d had doing it.

  I’d never made anything like that before, and although challenging, it was exciting to see what I could do. I enjoyed watching them take shape. Maybe Ashley was right and when I got better Abe and I could work together.

  I loved that idea.

  Also, I loved ice-cold water.

  After drinking more wine than I usually did the night before, I couldn’t get enough.

  I lugged a club chair—or at least, a wider, deeper style chair Abe had made and set aside in the shop—up to the cabin so I could show him what I’d made for it. The cushions would work as a sample, but they weren’t as thick and fluffy as I’d prefer.

  That led me to more research. I’d picked up a DYI upholstery book the last time I was at Hobby Lobby, so I read through it. Then I watched dozens videos, which again I found ten times more helpful, proving once more I was a visual learner. But both the book and the online clips showed tools I didn’t have.

  One video even suggested a kit with dozens of tools I could buy online. The link took me to Amazon and there I found almost more than I could ever need. It was my first time online shopping. Ashely had told me once that it was fast, and maybe I was doing it wrong, but I spent most of the afternoon setting up my account and adding things to a bottomless shopping cart.