He started to speak, but she cut him off.
“Today I met a woman named Miss Anthony, a governess who makes children into automatons. Mrs. Larson mentioned how Mama wanted this, this spirit-less, heartless, block of wood to be Janey’s teacher. I can’t let it happen, Thomas!” Her voice rose in panic and she fought to control the desperation she felt. “If that means marrying a man I do not love, if he agrees to welcome Janey, then that is what I shall do,” she ended shrilly.
Thomas reached out both hand and enclosed her shoulders in their warmth. “Allie, take a breath. Now, another.” His eyes were riveted on her face, voice low and calm.
“You can’t understand how I feel,” she began. He made a soft sound and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She could feel the strength of him flowing through her shoulders and down her arms, into her chest. The tight bands of fear around her rib cage loosened.
“I do understand, a little. I know you are afraid of losing more than you have already. I know that you will do anything to keep Janey with you.” He paused and Allie opened her eyes, searching for the unspoken remainder.
“But,” he said, “marrying a wealthy man out of convenience will not guarantee Janey’s happiness. She deserves to live with a real family, not grow up as the reason you settled for less than you deserve.”
His words hit her like a blow. She drew back, then broke away from his touch. “I would never let her know. What do you think I am?”
“Of course you would never tell her, Allie. But she knows you, like I know you. We can see when you are hurting, when you are desperate.” He leaned forward, his voice urgent. “You truly want to make Janey happy, Allie? Then don’t sacrifice yourself for the sake of your mother’s social calendar, or Janey’s comfort, or my wishes. The peace you gain won’t last forever and when it ends, it will be a bigger mess than when you started.”
Allie stared, feelings rioting inside her. What did he mean about ‘his dreams’? “But I don’t,” she stopped, then started again, “I don’t know what I want.” It was true. She only knew who she wanted, and one of the two people she wanted most in all the world was sitting right beside her.
****
Thomas felt her words sink into his heart like a stone thrown into the pond. Seconds seemed an eternity, and the ripples of pain crested again and again as he slowly came to terms with her statement. I don’t know what I want. It couldn’t be clearer. Allie was in no state to be entertaining thoughts of marriage.
He dropped his hands from her silk-covered shoulders, suddenly aware of the warmth that had passed into his palms. He wanted more than anything to bare his heart, to ask her to be his wife, how Janey would be welcome as his own child. But not now. Not yet. He clenched his jaw, willing the words to stay put when he was desperate to speak out, especially here at the edge of the pond. How many times had he imagined this moment? This second chance was a miracle, an answer to his prayers. And it would have to wait.
Her bright eyes were dim with sadness and pain. He yearned to take her in his arms and comfort her. But like the whiskey his father would drink when the war memories came back, Allie was searching for an escape. The girl he knew would never have married for less than love because she understood love made a family, not money or power. The Allie he knew took the high road and the narrow path, not whatever people told her to take. The girl he knew had faith in herself, and in God.
Thomas turned his face toward the pond. The air seemed heavy with the smell of crushed grass. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs and willed himself to be silent. It might work if he spoke convincingly enough of his love, but it would be wrong to take advantage of her confusion. She would be his bride, but at what cost? When she recovered her equilibrium, she might hate him for it.
No, the only way he could woo Allie now, would be to lead her back to God. He was the only One who mattered.
“What do you miss the most?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her start, turn her head to look at him. “I don’t understand.”
“If you had the power to bring back one item you have lost, what would it be?”
“I try not to think of what I have lost.” She said this last in a crisp tone and brushed her hair off her neck.
“Humor me.” He turned and smiled at Allie, waiting until her lips responded with a small smile of their own.
“I worked very hard, sometimes ten hours a day, to earn a living as a painter. I had clients in and out of the studio, parties to attend where I would meet new clients, other artists needed support.. We had a large group of friends, artists and singers and actors. Our lives were full and happy.” She stared at the edge of the pond where the trees stood sentry over the still water. “There was a midwife, Angela, who lived above us in the apartment building. She was a wonderful friend. Eleanor assisted her at births and I think she might have liked to be a midwife, if Matthew would have agreed. After she passed, Angela asked me to assist. I don’t think she really needed my help.” She glanced at him and shrugged a little. “It must sound very odd; a painter assisting a midwife.”
“I’ve heard stranger,” he said in a dry tone.
Allie snorted and said, “I am sure. Well, I loved it as much as Eleanor did, and there was no husband to refuse me. So, for the last four years, I assisted Angela with birthing work” She fixed him with a glare. “Don’t tell Mama. She would never understand. If she could have avoid ever bringing a child into this world, she would have. To her it’s painful and messy and an unspeakable horror. But to me, it is the most beautiful moment in the world. I miss hearing a newborn cry. I miss seeing a mother smile as we hand her the baby. I miss watching a father meet his child for the first time.” She stared off into the hazy air. “New babies smell wonderful, did you know that? They smell sweet and warm...” Her voice trailed off, a slight smile on her lips.
“So, you would bring back that time, when you assisted the midwife?”
She turned and blinked at Thomas, as if coming back from a dream. “No, I thought of the babies because that is the way I feel about painting.” She turned and chuckled. “Did you expect me to say I missed the ocean? Or the seagulls? The steamed pork buns from the Yun Chow’s shop?”
Thomas grinned and stayed quiet.
“When my vision appeared out of nothing but canvas and color, it was like a miracle. I felt close to God, the Creator of all, in that moment.” She finished abruptly and sides of her mouth drew down. “And when do you encounter God, Thomas? When you work with the horses?” She asked the question with true curiosity, and Thomas was struck by the fact that they had never talked of it before. How many years they had been friends, had loved each other, and they had never spoke of meeting God in their daily lives.
“During a hymn,” he answered plainly.
Allie’s gaze flew to his face and she laughed, as if he had made a joke. But he kept his eyes steadily on hers.
“A hymn?” she asked, the smile settling into a bemused expression.
“When voices are raised in petition, or praise, I feel Him very near to me.” Thomas felt his heart lift just speaking the words. He had always loved to hear Allie sing in church. Her pure voice seemed to bring the words to life, to elevate them from simple music to deep prayer.
“I didn’t know that,” she said, her expression softening as she considered him.
Thomas felt as if he couldn’t tear his gaze away from hers and everything within him yearned to speak now, to ask her now, to be his wife. Instead, he got to his feet and brushed the grass from his trousers. He kept his face hidden until his emotions were under control, then he held out a hand. “It’s time we got back to the house. Your mother will be wondering where you’ve been, especially if Mr. Bascomb has reported your disappearance.”
He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment on her face. She nodded. “I must put these awful boots back on my poor feet. Mama would not approve of my wandering home barefoot.”
Thomas
reached in his suit coat and offered a large cotton handkerchief to Allie. She took it gratefully, patted her damp toes, and worked at putting her silk stocking back on. Thomas turned and wandered a little further down the path so that she might have privacy. His heart ached when he saw the dark pink welts on her fair skin. How he wished Allie had been spared, that her studio had been spared. No matter how grateful he was for a second chance, the pain she endured as she adjusted to her new life, as she struggled to approach the One she blamed for her loss, Thomas still wished the earthquake had never happened. But it had.
Now Allie had to decide what sort of woman she was: a strong woman of faith who rose above tragedy, or a woman who let fear run her decisions and ran from her idea of a vengeful God. There was only one type of woman Thomas could marry, no matter how much he loved Allie, no matter how many years he had prayed for her return. Allie was here beside him, needing a husband and a protector, but he could only be that for her if it was God’s will.
The soft sound of her footsteps roused him from his reverie. He turned and said, “I was thinking Janey would love to try a little fishing. Do you think we could spirit her away, one fine afternoon?”
A wide smile spread over Allie’s pale face, lighting up her eyes. “She would love it.”
They headed back to the automobile, stepping carefully over vines on the old overgrown path, planning all the while.
***
Thomas’s car rolled to a stop as the front door burst open and Mrs. Gibson tumbled out, her round face pink and sweating.
“Thank goodness! We have been absolutely out of our wits with worry!” She trotted toward them, twisting her hands in her apron, a gesture so rare it caused alarm.
Allie scrambled out of the passenger seat, grabbing the hand that Thomas offered for support, but then quickly dropping it again.
“What’s happened? Is it Janey?” Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hardly hear herself over the din. If anything had happened to the little girl, while Allie was swinging her feet in the pond and mooning over Thomas, Allie would never survive it.
“Janey is fine. No, my dear, it is Maggie McGovern,” the housekeeper said this last bit in a shocked whisper.
Allie slowed her trajectory toward the front door, her mind working to make sense of Mrs. Gibson’s statement.
“Maggie... the servant girl?”
“Yes! She has run off, most likely to California.”
Thomas inhaled, the sharp noise against his teeth speaking more than any words could.
Chapter Twelve
“But, not to be uncaring, how does this affect us?” Allie felt her cheeks warm and glanced at Thomas. “I am sorry. It’s a terrible thing, I agree. But how...?” And then it came clear as she watched Mrs. Gibson’s gaze drop to her hands, twisting in her apron once more. “Oh, I see. Mr. Bascomb sent word of my... escape and Maggie went missing. And all the house believed that we had, what, run away together? As if two poor young women would do much better out in the world than one?” It was almost laughable. Almost, but not quite.
Thomas cleared his throat. “I am sure that Mrs. Gibson never believed you had left without Janey.”
Allie whirled on him. “But she might believe I would sneak away with Maggie and Janey?” She shook her head, disbelieving. “You are acting as if I am a thoughtless, selfish woman.”
“No, no, my dear! Please, understand. Mr. McGovern is here, at this moment, in the parlor. He is convinced that you had something to do with Maggie’s disappearance.”
“But that’s absurd. I have only spoken with the girl a few times.”
Mrs. Gibson nodded her head, loose tendrils coming loose from her bun, cheeks flushed. “Of course, we all did not believe it for a moment.”
“Except, perhaps, when Mr. Bascomb relayed our carriage mishap.” Allie could feel her face tightening. She was sure that horrible man had made it out to be much more dramatic than it was. Although, striding off into the city without a word did look peculiar. If only he was not so insufferable, so bigoted, so angry at everyone.
“I am sure you had very good reason to... walk home.” Mrs. Gibson’s gaze flicked back toward Thomas’s car, then back at Allie. There was the hint of a smile on her lips.
Of course, the housekeeper was getting ideas. She never understood why Allie had refused Thomas and left for San Francisco. And of course, Allie had never explained.
Allie drew in a breath, struggling to calm herself, aware of her pulse beating in her temples. “I found the situation untenable. Mr. Bascomb is not capable of carrying on a conversation that does not include the amount of his own fortune or the lack of another’s. He also seems to consider every problem in the world attributable to either the poor or the foreign in this city. Frankly, I had had enough.” With that, Allie stepped past Mrs. Gibson and into the entryway. She could hear a rough voice coming from the parlor.
“Miss Hathaway, please, wait,” Thomas called from somewhere behind her but she didn’t slow.
Allie entered the room without pausing. A man stood in the middle of the room, feet planted apart, arms across his chest. His face was dark with a week’s worth of beard and his eyes were murky with drink. Allie had seen the signs often enough on the docks and would have known he liked his whiskey, even without the powerful smell that clung to his clothes. Maggie’s father was partial to more than the strap, it seemed.
“Mr. McGovern. I am Alberta Hathaway. I have only spoken to your daughter a few times since I’ve arrived here. She expressed her desire to travel to California but I did not encourage her, nor did I assist her in any way.” Her tone held no argument and she barely glanced at her mother, seated rigidly on the edge of the couch.
“Well, that’s what ye say, now, isn’t it? But I have a feeling that my Maggie was unduly influ– influ– ”
She sighed, waiting for Mr. McGovern to stop swaying and finish his sentence. “Influenced,” she finally supplied.
“That’s it,” the man slurred, pounding one fist into his palm. “She was the only girl I had working. Her ma is sick and we canna live without her. I want some compen– , compen– ”
Allie wanted to slap the word out of him but spoke quietly through clenched teeth instead. “Compensation.”
“Right! You gave her the idea to go,” he pointed a dirty finger in her general direction, “with all your talk of fancy people and movie stars and―” He seemed to lose his train of thought and blinked at the ceiling. “She was a hard worker and now she’s gone.”
“I’m sorry Maggie has left without your permission. But I will not be providing any money to you or your family because she has made that decision. It had nothing to do with me.”
His face screwed up as if he was getting ready to spit. Deep color spread from his cheeks to his forehead. He took an unsteady step closer, arms hanging at his sides, hands clenching and unclenching.
Allie shivered inside, wondering how many times Maggie had seen this furious expression. She heard Thomas move behind her, felt his hand touch her shoulder, as if ready to fling her out of the way if need be, but Allie did not move.
“We do have a position open now, since Maggie has gone. Perhaps if there is another daughter who could take her place, we would be willing to interview her for the post.” Allie heard her mother’s sharp breath but didn’t drop her gaze from Mr. McGovern’s watery squint.
“Bah! Why would I put another child in this house? She would just end up runnin’ away like the first!”
Allie shrugged. “It is your choice. That is the only offer of help you will be receiving from me or my family.”
Mr. McGovern shifted his feet and made unhappy noises, but Allie already knew that he would accept the offer. Thomas was a steady, powerful presence behind her.
“I s’pose that is the best we be gettin’. If we were a family of means, I would take you to court for inter– , inter– ”
“Interfering.”
“Aye, interfering with Maggie’s education.”
He folded his arms again and tried to focus on Allie’s face.
“Was Maggie still in school, Mr. McGovern?”
“Well, not at the moment. We needed the money she made here, cause her ma is sick and all. I want to take a job but all the bosses are against the Irish, you see.”
Allie did see. One look at the man and no boss in his right mind would take a chance, no matter from what country he hailed. “Send over your daughter tomorrow. We will interview her and see if she is suitable.”
He rolled one large shoulder in his dirty coat and nodded. “She’ll come.”
She stepped to the side of the parlor, Thomas moving away from her now. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, standing straight and silent close to the door. Mr. McGovern lurched through the doorway and Thomas slipped out a few paces behind him.
Allie sagged into the couch, her temples pounding with the headache that threatened earlier. Too much exercise and too much sun, she supposed.
“Goodness,” her mother whispered. She peered toward the doorway, as if she didn’t quite believe the man had actually gone.
Thomas reentered the room. “He left without another word. I’m sorry that you had to endure such a scene. I apologize for bringing Maggie to this house. I truly thought she would find the strength to rise above her situation, if she was surrounded by good people like yourself and Mrs. Gibson.”
“You could not have known she would run away. I do not blame you, Thomas.” Her mother heaved a sigh and patted the cushion beside her. He sat down, face grim, eyes troubled.
She continued. “Tomorrow, when the sister comes, we will not give her entry. We will bar the door, and be ready to call the police when her father pays us another visit.”
Allie sat up, eyes wide. “Mama, you cannot! We have just told the man that we will interview his daughter for the post!”
She spread her hands, as if indicating the parlor where the drunken man stood a few minutes before. “Alberta, we will not have anything more to do with that family. The only thing that can be gained from that sort of people is trouble.”
All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith) Page 16