All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith)

by Carmichael, Virginia

  Allie shot a beseechingly look at Thomas, but he was frowning at his hands. She knew she could not keep silent. “Maggie told me he beats them, and the mother is too sick to care for the little ones. How can we turn our faces from those children when they are in need?”

  “Honestly, Alberta. You are making no sense. We can’t be responsible for every child that has a drunken father or a sick mother.”

  “No, Mama, we can’t. But we can provide for the ones right before us.”

  Her mother passed a hand across her brow, and Allie saw with a pang of guilt that her face was pale and drawn. “This afternoon has been too much, for both of us. I do not wish to discuss the situation at this moment, but I will say that our family cannot be connected to people like the McGoverns.”

  Allie wanted to let the words slide away, but she felt them bursting out. “What people, Mama? Poor people? People who have a brute for a father and not enough to eat?” Her voice rose in anger.

  Her mother stood. “I am retiring to my room for a rest. Please excuse me. We will discuss this later.” She turned to Thomas. “Thank you for bringing Alberta safely home.”

  He offered her his hand. “My pleasure. She was almost home when we met up on the road.”

  She nodded her head, tired eyes seeking the doorway and avoiding Allie’s gaze. As soon as she stepped from the room, Thomas turned to Allie.

  “You spoke very well.”

  “I suppose you think I should have let you handle the situation.” Allie didn’t know why she was snapping at Thomas. It wasn’t his fault that her mother was going to make her into a liar. She had offered the man’s daughter a position and tomorrow they weren’t even going to open the door. She shuddered to think of what the girl would endure when she returned home.

  He crossed to her, eyes intent on her face. “Not at all. And you were very generous to offer Maggie’s position.”

  “Generous and completely out of line.”

  His lips twitched. “Yes, that is true. Perhaps you could have consulted with your mother, or even Mrs. Gibson.”

  Allie couldn’t help smiling a little, even as her head throbbed out a tempo. “I know. But there wasn’t time. And I couldn’t let that man walk out of the parlor, knowing that there are other children in the home who will suffer from his wrath. It was all I could think of at the moment.”

  He nodded, and seemed to be trying to decide whether to speak or not.

  “I know that expression.” Allie lifted her chin and shot him a calculating look.

  “Do you now?” he said, a teasing tone creeping into his voice.

  “You want to tell me something but you’re afraid it will hurt my feelings.”

  He laughed as if it was startled out of him. “And when I have this expression, do I usually say whatever it is, or not?”

  Allie considered for a moment. “You do say it, but you are kind enough to consider the consequences.”

  The smiled slipping from his face. She was close enough to see the thick lashes that rimmed his dark eyes. She had always loved his eyes. How many times in the past ten years had she found his features appearing under her pencil? Dozens? Hundreds? Her fingers itched to sketch them right now, at this moment, as they gazed back at her.

  “Allie,” he said, his voice soft. Something in his tone made her heart skip a beat. He was not going to give her advice on dealing with drunkards.

  He reached out a hand and touched her cheek, so softly she wasn’t even sure he had. She was rooted to the spot. Then he stepped back. “Maybe it’s better if I say nothing at all. I will see you at the picnic on Saturday.”

  Allie could only stare, speechless, as he turned and left the room. She sagged down onto the couch once more, head in her hands. What did she think he was going to say? Marry me? Bring Janey into my home and make a family with me? She wanted to groan out loud in her misery. Coming home was the only thing she could see to do at the time, but now she knew that it was better for her and Janey, for them all, if they left as soon as possible.

  ***

  Thomas drove back down the long driveway from Bellevue, his mind so preoccupied that he hardly noticed where he was and what he was doing. His mind whirled with the words he wanted to say to Allie, promises he longed to make. But it was the wrong time. Maybe it would never be the right time.

  Was it possible that he could offer marriage to Allie, give her sanctuary from her mother’s matchmaking, give Janey a home, and have Allie grow to love him? Of course it was possible. He thought he sensed a softening toward him, at moments like this afternoon at the pond. They had settled old hurts, bound up wounds inflicted many years ago. It was senseless to wish that the misunderstanding had never happened. It had and she had left for San Francisco because she suspected he loved another. Thomas rolled his shoulders, seeking to ease the tension in his muscles. He would not grieve over those lost years but only look to the future.

  No matter how hard he tried, Thomas could not resist the very smallest daydream of Allie, Janey, and himself, as a family. And if God willed it to be, a houseful of children who loved horses and sketching, who sang like their mother and climbed trees like their father. He suddenly flashed on her comment about blond-haired babes and clenched his jaw. His babies would never be blond, not with his dark-haired parents and grandparents, Black Irish to the core. She had said it so lightly, as if she contemplated the beauty of Ransom Garnett’s future children every day. Thomas shook his head, clearing his mind of the images that pricked his pride.

  He turned into the cobbled street that led to his home. It was possible that she would learn to love him, but if she did not, he would never be able to live in the same house. The torture would be immense, her very presence a reminder that his heart was hers, and she did not love him. He could not trap her that way, could not force his love on her. Until she was at peace with the tragedy, until she could find consolation in divine providence, Thomas could not be sure that she would accept his proposal for the right reasons.

  Thomas parked the car before the large, stately home he had purchased. A light shone in the parlor and he was certain his mother would be waiting to hear details of his day. He never held anything back and would not today, but he knew she would not approve. There was altogether far too much time being spent with Miss Hathaway. Mrs. Bradford was proud, but Thomas also knew that his mother would welcome Allie if she became his wife. She would be determined to make her son happy, and if that meant getting along with the girl who had once broken his heart, she would do so.

  Lord, it is up to You. I leave it all in Your hands. Thomas welcomed the fact it was either going to happen God’s way, or not at all.

  ***

  Allie stared out of the carriage window at the stately homes. Her mother was still angry about Allie offering a position to Maggie’s younger sister and had continued to argue the point during the ride to the picnic.

  “Alberta, I understand that you believed you were doing right by this man– ”

  “No, Mama. I wasn’t doing right by Mr. McGovern. I was thinking only of his wife and children. I do not think it is right for us to turn our backs on such a situation.” Allie interrupted with an exasperated twitch to her skirts. The silk was a powdery blue with yards of delicate lace mesh overlay and Allie couldn’t help but admire the artistry of it. She just wished she could be as happy with the prospect of the afternoon ahead. The road to the executive mansion was crowded with carriages and Allie had never felt less like attending a society picnic. She had spent the night turning from side to side, front to back, until she swore she was wearing the mattress thin.

  “Charity is a lovely virtue, Alberta, but what if the girl is unsuitable? What then? And Jane, please sit still.”

  “We will cross that bridge when we come to it, I suppose,” Allie said, laying a hand on her niece, smiling kindly in a no-nonsense way. Janey bounced up and down as if she had springs. Her party frock was covered with more ruffles than Allie thought was really necessary but Mr. Mort
on had assured them it was a very popular style for little girls that year. Janey nodded and tried to sit quietly, although her wide blue eyes flickered with excitement.

  Allie stared out at the passing scenery. The stately homes grew larger and larger, while the street also widened considerably. The carriage finally rolled to a stop and Mrs. Leeds gave one final pat to her hair. “Please, be sociable. I know you would rather have stayed home, but it’s really in your best interests to attend this picnic.”

  “I know, Mama.” Allie had a concrete understanding of how important it was to be ‘sociable’. The longer she stayed unmarried, season after season, the less likely she would find a husband. She was already older than most new brides, and with an exotic history that wasn’t a plus. The only people who cared about her success as a painter were gallery owners and museums. And kind Mr. Morton, of course. She had to try because it was just possible that there was a husband here who might accept Janey, too. She was determined to give this a chance. That was only fair. Her future husband might be right around the corner.

  Allie couldn’t help reaching out to stroke the hair of the little girl who was like her own child. She would do anything for her, even marry a man she did not love. Thomas’s words of warning drifted back to her but she shrugged them off. It was easy for him to say she should marry for love only. He could not possibly understand that her heart was only large enough for one man, and it seemed he was ready to marry another.

  Allie straightened her back and waited for the carriage man to open the door. She could do this. She had walked through fire and watching Thomas squire Louise Lloyd around a society picnic would be nothing in comparison.

  The Georgian style mansion’s red bricks glowed in the late summer sun and Allie was thankful to see several large tents on the side lawn, ready to provide shade to the picnickers. Many guests wouldn’t find the sun oppressive, with their parasols for protection and the large oak trees giving dappled shade, but Allie still avoided the chance of irritating her sensitive skin. Mrs. Leeds walked sedately toward the entrance, Janey hopping like a rabbit in her glee, and Allie wished she could muster a little more excitement.

  “There you are, my dear!” As they entered the garden area, Sarah Dean rushed forward, grabbed Allie by both hands and kissed her soundly on the cheek. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and her cheeks were glowing with health. Sarah had only become more beautiful with the years of marriage and motherhood. “I was hoping you would come early so we can walk through the garden. The servants are passing around the most delicious lemonade with crushed raspberries. Or, if you prefer, there are tall glasses of sweet mint tea?”

  Allie grinned at Sarah’s excited chatter and let herself be tugged along, Janey holding her other hand. Her mother was enveloped in a large group of society women and lost to sight almost immediately. “Oh, lemonade sounds wonderful. Are your boys here? Janey would love to play with them again.”

  “Of course, and there are games set up for the children. The governor always has entertainments ready.” Sarah fairly dragged Allie toward a well-dressed group, and slipped her free hand into the elbow of her husband, Nathan Dean. “Darling, you remember my friend?”

  “Miss Hathaway,” he turned and tipped his hat to Allie, smiling down at Janey. “And Miss Leeds. Joshua and Joseph will be glad to hear you have arrived. They promised to win you at lawn bowling or give up their lives in the effort.”

  Janey clapped her hands. “Auntie, may I go play? I see them just there.” She pointed out the small boys, who had paused their game to wave to their new friend.

  “Of course, but please remember your manners.” Allie felt a weight lift from her heart as she watched her niece bound away. Janey had missed her friends back home in San Francisco and Allie resolved to find her more playmates before winter came.

  “Miss Hathaway,” a young woman drawled just behind Allie’s right shoulder. She knew the owner of that nasal tone before she even turned her head. And whose arm she would be gripping.

  ***

  Thomas thought the afternoon would never end. Between the carriage ride and the first hour of the picnic, he was ready to pretend he had ingested spoiled food, just to have an excuse to leave. Louise seemed blessed with the ability to speak without stopping for breath. And although the topics of her opinion varied, they never altered in their theme of irritation and dissatisfaction. He was beginning to suspect Louise could find fault with God Himself.

  Thomas caught his mother’s eye across the crowded grass lawn. Even at a distance he could see her delight at the picture of the mayor’s daughter with her son. Thomas mentioned once, during dinner, how Louise seemed very young to be marrying, even though she was of age. Mrs. Bradford’s eyes had widened in alarm at the very idea that Thomas was not happy with Louise. He decided not to say another word about it. But after today, there wouldn’t be another social outing with Louise, whether his mother liked it or not.

  They stopped for brief moments here and there, speaking the lightest and most inconsequential things to person after person. Thomas thought it very possible they would go the entire day without having any kind of intelligent conversation.

  As he greeted Mr. Grimshaw, the owner of the largest mill in Chicago, he couldn’t help wondering how many times could one man remark on the weather without going mad.

  “Mr. Bradford, what do you think of the new railroad they’re building?” Grimshaw tilted his hat back on his head and fixed his gaze on Thomas.

  Thomas thought he just might enjoy the afternoon after all. “Jeremiah Bascomb is mistaken if he believes the city will be better for it. The plans– ”

  “Mr. Bradford, we must visit with the Deans.” Louise tugged him in yet another direction, not seeming to care in the slightest that she had interrupted Thomas in the middle of a sentence.

  He gritted his teeth and nodded curtly to Grimshaw, who responded with a sly grin, his expression that said he would be glad to be ordered around by such a beautiful young woman. Thomas wished Louise had a little less beauty and a little more gentleness, especially when it came to his poor arm. Her fingers were like pincers to the inside of his elbow.

  They passed a servant bearing tall glasses of what looked like tea with mint sprigs. “Miss Lloyd, would you care for some refreshment? I am happy to– ”

  “No, I’m fine.” Louise was scanning the crowd like a cat searching for prey. Thomas fought down a sigh at being interrupted for the thirtieth time that morning. “There they are, and what a horrible dress Sarah is wearing. Clearly from last season. I never liked the pale shades and it is even less attractive on someone with her coloring.”

  Thomas tried his best to tune out the relentless drone of complaints but it was like an icy cold drip down his back. Impossible to ignore and difficult to pretend it wasn’t causing him irritation. Lord, please help me direct her kindly to something other than faults.

  “Miss Hathaway.” He barely registered Louise’s drawling voice, he was so intent on his conversation with God. One moment he was thinking of a way to keep Louise from eating away at every strand of positive feeling he had, and the next he was gazing into the eyes of the woman he loved. It was if the sun was shining just for him. He felt the earth tilt a little on its axis and he drew a sharp breath.

  Allie looked stunning. She gave the impression of angelic beauty, all she needed was a pair of wings. A delicate silk dress complemented her pale skin and large eyes. A large white silk hat with a matching blue ribbon covered the light chestnut curls which framed her face. Her bright eyes darted toward his and then away. He caught a hint of what was going on behind that pretty face and it made him grin like a fool. Bright spots of pink appeared in her cheeks and she studiously focused on Louise. If Thomas didn’t know better, he would have bet money that Allie was blushing for him.

  “– a new dress, I see. Morton’s? But of course it would be. He is quite an admirer of your painting, is he not?”

  Thomas fought to focus on the conversation. Allie seem
ed to be choosing her words carefully.

  “Yes, I suppose you could say that. And I am just as devoted to his dress making.” Allie’s lips twitched a little and Thomas wondered if she was holding back a smile, or if she was forcing herself to be civil. Probably a little of both.

  “You both have that rare talent of bringing out the greatest beauty in your subjects.” Thomas said the words lightly, but gave Allie the tiniest wink. He wanted to laugh out loud as her cheeks flamed. She understood his compliment perfectly, and it wasn’t directed at her portraiture.

  Louise’s nails dug into his arm through his light summer jacket and he winced. The woman had talons like a dragon.

  “Mr. Dean, I hear you have voiced opposition to the East Tooms railroad project,” Allie said.

  Thomas almost hooted in surprise. Perhaps they could sneak a little real conversation into the afternoon.

  Nathan nodded. “The mayor is right that Chicago needs another railroad line to the ports. The merchants are struggling to run goods to the ships and the existing railway is overloaded. But the plan is flawed.”

  Allie lifted her head, expression full of interest. “How flawed, Mr. Dean? Mr. Bascomb seems to think the neighborhood of East Tooms can only benefit.”

  Sarah looked to her husband, the smallest smile touching her lips. She obviously adored the man. Thomas wondered what it would be like to be loved like that.

  “If you visit the area, you can witness for yourself the dire poverty of the residents. A railway line could be beneficial, if the plans gave consideration to the existing neighborhoods. As it is, the path includes an orphanage, a school, and a hospital that cares for charity cases. Add in the shanty buildings so many families call home, and the railway is a morally objectionable project.”

  Thomas felt his eyebrows rise. “Well said, Mr. Dean. There is a need for a new railroad, but not at the expense of the poor.”