All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith)

by Carmichael, Virginia

  Louise waved a hand.“If we sat down and thought about it, everything we did would be at the expense of the poor. This whole picnic could be better spent on feeding the poor, starving Italian babies in East Tooms.”

  Thomas watched Allie’s eyes narrow. But when she spoke her voice was light. “There is quite a difference between millions of dollars spent on a project that will bring further misery and suffering to a vulnerable population, and a picnic for a few hundred people.”

  “The city alderman meetings have been nothing less than all-out war over this project. I am afraid the governor will take the matter into his own hands.” Thomas had no doubt which way the governor would vote.

  Allie seemed surprised by his comment. Perhaps she still thought of him as the carriage man’s son.

  “Does the entire decision rest with the city council?” she asked.

  “Well, it must be approved by a majority vote. Bascomb says the funding and the suppliers are secured. The plans call for construction to begin in April of next year.”

  “That’s plenty of time to find new lodgings. And the hospital should be demolished, no matter if the railroad runs through the neighborhood or not.” Louise shrugged and adjusted her summer gloves, pressing her body closer to his.

  Thomas shifted uncomfortably. He wished there was a way to give her a little space but she seemed determined to stick to him like tree sap.

  Sarah shook her head, a frown creasing her pretty face. “Where, Louise? Where would these people go? They can’t just pack up and find another home like you or I. Especially if they won’t receive any money from the city when their home is razed. But you are correct that the hospital should be demolished. My Ladies’ Auxiliary has been raising funds for two years and we want to build a brand new hospital.”

  “A new hospital for patients who can’t even pay the doctors for their services?” Louise rolled her eyes. “Why is that the poor have so much more handed to them than those of us who earn it honestly?”

  Thomas opened his mouth to respond but stopped when he saw Allie’s expression. He almost laughed at the sight.

  “And how do you earn your doctor’s excellent services, Miss Lloyd?”

  There was a moment of stunned silence. Thomas thought Louise made a wise choice, saying nothing, because there was no good answer to Allie’s question. Louise benefited from her father’s wealth and status. The blessing of good medical care had nothing to do with her own merit. Thomas suppressed a smile. If he had argued against the poor being given free services, it might have had more force, as he himself had once been poor. After years of hard work and struggle he was now in that small number who could say they lacked for no material thing.

  “Come, Mr. Bradford. I can see that we will only argue if we linger.” Louise smiled prettily up at him, squeezing close once more. “I want to introduce you to the governor’s wife. She’s quite as involved as any Lady Auxiliary member, but donates her time to more worthwhile causes.”

  Thomas winced, wondering how much poison could come from one pair of lips. He shook Nathan’s hand and tipped his hat to the ladies. Allie was giving him a look of such consternation that he felt the heat creep up his neck. She must think he was a fool for enduring Louise. He hoped she understood his dilemma and gave her a small smile. She did not give one in answer, but turned to watch the children lawn bowling.

  Janey looked over, saw Thomas and ran to him at full speed. “Mr. Bradford,” she shouted and launched herself toward him.

  ***

  “Janey, really,” Allie mumbled, reaching out to peel her niece off Thomas’s legs.

  “It’s all right, Miss Hathaway. Miss Leeds and I are good friends, are we not?” He directed the comment to Janey’s upturned face, her huge smile giving him his answer.

  “I saw the big horses out front. When will you come and help me ride one? Mr. Cole says that Grandmother must approve and she won’t say yes for anyone but you.”

  Allie coughed into her hand. She had no idea where Janey had gotten the idea that Mama would agree, even with Thomas. But she was absolutely correct. In fact, Allie herself would not want anyone but Thomas to teach Janey to ride.

  “You’re a little young to be riding such big horses. We should try to find you a pony.”

  Janey stepped back and crossed her arms over her party dress. “I don’t want a pony. I want a big black stallion.”

  “But even I don’t ride a big black stallion, Miss Leeds.” Thomas crouched down to her level and put hand on her shoulder. “I will come and teach you all I know, but I cannot promise you will ride such a horse.”

  Janey’s lip moved out, and her eyes seemed to glint with tears for a moment, then she smiled. Thomas had won her over. Allie shot him a grateful glance.

  “Will you come tomorrow?”

  “Soon.” Thomas stood up and nodded to Allie. “I think I know a mare that might be suitable.”

  “And bring all your instruments so we can give the horse a thorough check up,” Janey said, hands on hips.

  Sarah and Nathan couldn’t suppress their laughter. “Oh, Janey, dear. You have your father’s spirit, there is no doubt of it,” Sarah said, words tumbling out in her mirth.

  “Don’t forget, Mr. Bradford,” Janey said. She turned and walked back to the group of children playing.

  “Thomas, please,” Louise murmured, clutching his arm. He tipped his hat to the group and they strolled away.

  Allie felt her chest constrict with Louise’s words. She longed to call him by his first name, longed to wander through a society picnic with him. But she had missed her chance. Allie turned to watch the children, trying to ignore the sound of her heart breaking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I am surprised that Mary is going to be suitable. One might think any progeny of Mr. McGovern would be unfit for much other than birthing and drink.” Her mother poured herself another cup of tea and took a cautious sip. The bright sunlight illuminated the brass details of the lamps on the table and the breakfast trays gleamed and sparkled.

  Was it possible to start the morning with anything less than a debate? “That is a rather unkind. I think we can agree on what drink does to a man. His children should not bear the shame of his failing, any more than they do now.”

  “Oh, Alberta, why must you be so sanctimonious. Of course, children should not suffer the sins of their parents, but there is also the question of bad breeding.”

  Allie held up a hand, wincing. She could feel an argument brewing and wanted desperately to fend off the words that would spoil the rest of the day. Words her mother would say against the ‘wrong’ types of people, and words Allie would say to defend them. “Mama, it has been a week and all has been calm. Can we just be content that Mary is suitable for the post? If we’re lucky, we might never see nor hear of Mr. McGovern again.”

  “I fear our luck has never been all that good, Alberta,” her mother said. “It may not be tomorrow, but that man will force himself on this family again. Mark my words.”

  Allie said nothing, hoping her mother was wrong. She took one last swallow of her tepid tea and glanced out the window. The morning sun was already high in the sky. Janey was having a piano lesson in the sitting room and the sound of a clumsy tune filtered through the wall.

  “It was very kind of Sarah Dean to invite you for the afternoon. I had no idea her sons were so keen to play with Janey.”

  “Yes, I don’t know that her boys are eager to share their toys with a girl, but I am happy to be spending some time with her family. The picnic was rather chaotic and we did not have a chance to visit,” Allie said.

  “You are not connected to the gossip of this town so I must tell you Nathan Dean has quite a reputation for being a firebrand. His father is a well-regarded solicitor for Northern Lakes Bank, but his son is determined to defend the very worst criminals. He must thrive on the sordid drama of murders and thievery.”

  “Mama, I don’t think Mr. Dean gives a thought to the drama.” Allie
cringed to hear the bitter tone, combined with ungracious words. “Sarah told me her husband is concerned that poor men are more likely to be convicted, not because they are guilty, but because they lack a proper defense. He feels it is his Christian duty to offer his services to those are facing long prison terms and cannot pay for a lawyer’s assistance.”

  “That is all well and good, but he can always file papers or some such. Instead, the man stands beside the murderers, right before the judge. I do not know how he can bear to look at them.” Her mother shivered melodramatically and shook her head.

  “Accused murderers, Mama. The courts have found many of them innocent.”

  “Perhaps because Nathan Dean convinced the court. He is doing more harm than good, if he continues to set those evil men free.”

  “Mama,” Allie started, then thought better of her words. Her mother was set in her beliefs. If a man was arrested for murder, it was because he was guilty and there was no other explanation. It was better to give her a fact or two, than to debate theories of poverty and guilty verdicts.

  “He told me a story, briefly, at the picnic. He said there was a man who was arrested for murder.” Allie paused but her mother did not interrupt, so she continued. “The jury was very much against him, and there were two eye-witnesses to the crime. The poor man begged Mr. Dean to do everything in his power to prove his innocence but there didn’t seem to be any way around the eyewitness accounts. All he could do was question them during the trial. It was very close to the last day, without a spark of hope, when he asked the witnesses to describe the murder in the smallest detail.”

  Her mother leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, attention caught in spite of herself.

  “The first witness was adamant that the man he’d seen was sitting in the court room and he pointed out Mr. Dean’s client. The jury was utterly convinced and it looked sure that he would be hanged. The second witness gave the same story, right down to the large tattoo that the murderer had on his chest.”

  Mrs. Leeds winced again. Tattoos and murder trials were not the usual topics of conversation at the table in Bellevue.

  “Mr. Dean turned to the poor man and asked him to unbutton his shirt.” Allie stopped as her mother held up a hand.

  “Alberta, this is far too salacious. Let us speak no more of the trials.” She closed her eyes as if to shut out the ugly words that were filling the bright dining room.

  “But Mama, listen! The man had no tattoo.” Allie sat forward triumphantly, enjoying the look of surprise on her mother’s face, her eyes open wide again.

  “He... had no tattoo? Could he have removed it somehow?”

  “No, it was impossible. Both eyewitnesses had seen the same man, describing him accurately, but they were wrong in believing it was Mr. Dean’s client. Can you imagine what it must have been like for him? Arrested and on trial, but no way to prove his innocence? The Tribune ran his photo at least six times during the trial and it seemed every soul in Chicago believed he was the murderer.”

  There was a moment of quiet, as both women reflected on the nightmare that man endured and the death he narrowly escaped.

  “It seems Mr. Dean is doing a very important job, my dear.” And with those words her mother patted Allie’s hand. “Sarah seems very happy with him, too. Do you think they have any connections to other fine young lawyers? It is a hard business, but you would be well taken care of.”

  Allie almost laughed out loud. One moment her mother was bemoaning Nathan Dean’s addiction to courtroom drama, and the next she was wondering if her daughter could marry a man just like him. “Oh, Mama. You have only one thing on your mind.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they were wrong. Marrying was not a topic to be bandied around, as if Allie had all the time in the world. They both knew that Allie’s chances faded with every month she failed to find a husband.

  “Alberta, you may not take your situation seriously, but I do. You are young and beautiful. Life is a treat to be savored. But soon you will wake up to find that everyone else has settled and started families, and all you have left is your past.” Her dark eyes flashed, her lips were a thin, angry line.

  Allie struggled to keep her temper in check. She smiled, hoping her features showed contriteness and not the sickening jolt of alarm she felt every time her past and her future collided in the same sentence. Her mother was trying to convince her that time was wasting, that the hours slipping away might be all she had. She knew that better than her mother could guess. But asking her friends if they knew any available men was so contrary to how Allie lived, she could hardly entertain the idea.

  “I’m sorry, Mama. I did not mean to offend you.”

  Her mother was delivered from having to respond by Janey’s sudden appearance. The little girl skipped into the room, waving a bright red book in one hand. “Aunt Allie, do you see my new lesson book? Miss Havers says I show promise.” She said these last words with an extra hop and fairly landed in Allie’s lap, a swirl of golden hair and pink ribbons.

  “‘Tis true. Little Jane is quite talented.” Miss Havers smiled kindly at Janey, whose face turned pink with pleasure. The teacher’s hair was carefully arranged in a soft bun, but her dress was meticulously pressed. Allie wondered how she could sit on a bench with such a constricting corset, but then decided she probably stood during the lessons.

  “And I want to take singing lessons so I can be a stage actress and be famous!” Janey’s words dropped into the room like firecrackers. Miss Havers’s blue eyes grew so round that Allie put a hand to her mouth to cover her smile. She was obviously from the era when proper young ladies entertained their families and friends in the evenings, not strangers, and certainly not for money.

  “Janey, dear,” Allie whispered to her niece. “Remember what we discussed, about working on the stage?”

  “Yes, Auntie,” Janey whispered back in such a loud tone that it would have been quieter if she had just spoken aloud. “I forgot.”

  “Let us know how the lessons progress. Mrs. Gibson will oversee her practice.”

  Miss Havers’s gaze flicked from Allie to Janey and back. She seemed to be struggling to come to a conclusion. “Yes, I will keep you informed on her... performance,” she said finally.

  Allie nudged Janey off her lap and stood. “Let me show you out, Mrs. Havers.”

  They left Janey to recite her lesson to her grandmother and walked to the entry way.

  Mary approached them as they neared the large, oak door. Her pale face was so similar to Maggie’s that Allie would have known they were related without being told. Her expression was timid, almost fearful and Allie realized the difference between the girls. Did Maggie learn self-respect in this house? Or was she born with that spark of independence, determined to escape the tyranny of her drunken father? Either way, Mary’s pale blue eyes held none of that spark. Her freckled face was scrubbed clean but was a mask of careful indifference. Like day and night, Maggie and Mary. Allie could bet that Mary was not going to be running away to California, or anywhere else.

  “Thank you, Mary. I can see Miss Havers out.” She smiled kindly and was rewarded with a timid bob of the head. Mary scuttled back into the narrow hallway that led to the kitchen.

  “Miss Havers, I wanted to speak to you for just a moment.” Allie was taking a risk, approaching the teacher, but something in her eyes told her that she was an understanding soul. “Janey has been raised in a very different climate than Chicago. Our friends were not stage performers, but she was aware that a certain area of the city included the theater actors and musicians.”

  Miss Havers lifted her chin and leveled a gaze at Allie. She seemed prepared to hear the worst, but her eyes were clear, thoughtful.

  “Little girls get strange ideas. I wanted to be a circus performer when I was young. Of course, there were no acrobats at our dinner table nor did we know any personally. My parents did nothing to encourage me. But they also saw it as a small girl’s fanciful dream
. After a few years, it faded away.”

  “I see, Miss Hathaway. But might I say that Jane’s case is different? I don’t mean to be rude, but she is at a much greater risk of inappropriate behavior because... well, because of your history.”

  Allie kept her gaze steady but she wanted to drop her head in her hands. She had tried. Truly. She wanted to convince Miss Havers that Janey was a normal child and the more they harped on her wish to be a singer, the longer the little girl would cling to that dream. Allie herself didn’t even know what she felt about it. Would she mind if Janey became a stage sensation?

  “I understand. But I don’t want Janey to feel like she’s sinful for expressing childish hopes and dreams.”

  “Then we both have her best interests at heart, Miss Hathaway.” Miss Havers reached out and touched Allie’s hand very lightly. “I did not get a moment to tell you before, but I was very glad to hear you both had come home safely.”

  Allie blinked back sudden tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely reaching past the lump in her throat. For some reason, this woman’s gratitude touched Allie in a way that others’ had not. Perhaps because they did not know each other. It seemed there were persons she had not yet met who were thankful she and Janey made it through the quake alive.

  Miss Havers nodded and stepped out the doorway, leaving Allie struggling to keep her tears in check. She slowly swung the heavy door closed and leaned against it. It seemed every day was rife with emotions, good and bad.

  She didn’t know if speaking to Miss Havers about Janey was the right thing or not. The pressure to conform to her mother’s house was so overwhelming that Allie could hardly focus on whether she would approve this future Janey. All she could do now, all she could think, was to protect Janey from the disapproval that had dogged Allie from the moment she started to share her dream of being a painter. Dreaming of being an artist was fine. Escaping out West, to a wild city full of prospectors and actors and artists, was not. But once Matthew had gone, Allie couldn’t see any reason to stay, especially since Thomas seemed to be courting another.