Allie nodded, her gaze unwavering. She dug her fingernails into her palms and willed her tears to stay in check. Young love is so fickle, it waxes and wanes like the moon. He regretted begging her to marry him, now that he was a man who knew his own mind. It was hard to hear, but she was glad. Maybe now she could let go of these feelings for him that were planted deep in her heart, with roots a mile long like an old tree.
“Everything has changed. We cannot go back eight years and become what we were then,” he said.
Allie dropped her head, biting her lip. She knew that, had never been more certain of that. Thomas would never feel the same way about her as he did when she was hardly more than a girl. Those days of unwavering love had passed them by forever.
“It was wrong of me. I never should have asked you to give up your dreams and follow mine, no matter how much I loved you. But that is the past and it is done. We must focus on the future.” His voice wavered on the last word but he stood straight and tall, chin high. A smile touched his lips but Allie could have sworn tears gleamed in the corners of his eyes.
“Miss Allie, Mr. Bradford! Tea’s ready,” Mrs. Gibson called, coming through the kitchen.
“Please tell her I needed to return home.” He spread his hands mutely. The gesture encompassed their whole conversation and the emotions that made the air feel thick and hot.
Allie nodded, and he flicked open the latch on the screen door and walked out into the steady rain. She sat motionless, emotions raging inside her. No matter how much I loved you... I loved you... But that is the past...
When Mrs. Gibson appeared in the doorway, Allie stammered out an excuse for him.
“He left his hat in the kitchen! And he went right out into the rain without it? We would have loaned him an umbrella.” Mrs. Gibson clucked her tongue and planted her hands on her hips. “Men. They say we have no sense. Honestly!”
Allie kept silent, hoping Mrs. Gibson wouldn’t ask about their conversation. The housekeeper was much too gentle for that, although she did give Allie a few sharp glances.
After only a few sips of the strong tea she begged to go upstairs, assuring Mrs. Gibson that she was fine.
She crawled into bed some time later and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Thomas’s handkerchief was tucked into a small cedar box on her night stand. Her heart yearned to form a prayer, to pour out her confusion and misery, but she clamped down tight on the impulse. Turning from side to side, she fought for sleep, seeking peace where there was none to be had.
****
Thomas strode away from the porch, barely noticing the rain that beat against his face and clothes. The thunder rumbled in the distance and he paused as he reached the automobile, one hand on the cold metal handle. The storm was moving away and the deafening cracks of thunder would not be a problem for Allie now. Still he wrestled against the fierce desire to stay, to keep her warm and safe.
Gripping the handle with renewed urgency, Thomas swung open the door and launched himself into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door so vigorously the metal protested with a sharp bang. His clothes dripped onto the leather seats and he wiped the rain out of his eyes. Then he rested his forehead against the wheel and groaned.
All that talk about being Allie’s friend, of helping her settle in to her home again, was a lie. He needed to admit the truth to himself before he made a bigger disaster than he already had. The truth was that he had never stopped loving her. When he heard she was coming home, he told himself that it was the right thing, the Christian thing, to offer his friendship. He had done his best to be useful and offer support. But deep inside he toyed with the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, Allie would fall in love with him, too.
He gritted his teeth and raised his head, staring out into the downpour. The rain pounded on the windscreen and ran down the glass in rivulets. He had acted like a child, not a man, by saying one thing and working for another. Allie didn’t need deception or a friend with a hidden plan. She needed a man who was strong enough to tell her the truth, especially when that man intended to make her his bride.
Thomas cranked the starter and allowed the engine to warm up before he turned onto the long, dark driveway. At least he had spoken truthfully at the end. She knew at this moment, what he had hidden from her and from himself. He had not planned to declare himself or discuss that night so long ago. On the porch, her story came tumbling out and her loss of faith made his heart ache. She trusted him to hear her fears and doubts, to not condemn her. And her honesty brought out his own.
Thomas tried to recall his exact words but only remembered Allie’s eyes, wide and luminous in the candle light. She had dropped her head when he apologized for the way he had proposed that night. She did not speak, but he was glad he had told her he was planning on the future. She needed to understand that he was not going to let her be married off to Bascomb or any other man in Chicago.
Lord, be with Allie tonight. Wrap her in Your arms and give her Your peace, Thomas prayed fervently as he pulled up in front of his home. He desperately wished to make her see that God was not punishing her, but that was something that Allie must realize for herself.
Chapter Nine
“Auntie?” Janey whispered, her little head poking in the doorway and startling Allie. She was sitting at the small toilette table brushing her hair and wishing it was long and blond like it had been before.
“Yes, sweetie?” She turned and motioned little Janey inside. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just wondered if I could come in.” The little girl came in, shyly clutching a small stuffed bear, white nightgown brushing her bare toes.
“Of course, you can always come in,” Allie said. Janey had never asked permission to enter her room before. They lived in perfect comfort with each other, without shyness or fear.
Janey stood at Allie’s elbow, beautiful curls falling to the middle of her back.
“Aren’t your feet cold, Janey?” Allie cast a glance at the little toes that peeped out from under patterned edge of the nightgown. The storm from the night before had faded to a gray and rainy day.
“Sure, they are.” Janey said simply, still gazing at Allie in her fixed way.
She laughed and gathered the tiny girl in her arms. “Let’s get those toes warmed up,” she growled, pretending to be an angry mama bear. Janey had always loved that game and how Allie wrapped her in a hug and put on her lowest, gruffest voice.
In one swift movement, she plopped Janey into the deep goose down bed and snuggled in beside her. “Just keep those cold toes over there, my bear cub,” she said, snuffling into Janey’s hair.
Janey giggled and writhed, pretending that the mama bear was too big and strong to resist.
“Ouch!” Allie froze, releasing Janey from her grip.
“Auntie, did I hurt you?” Janey’s voice trembled with fear and worry.
“No, no, sweetie. I just twisted my thumb...” Allie tried to smile, but her hand ached where Janey’s little knee had connected against it with a crack.
“We shouldn’t play mama bear and baby bear any more. You’ll get hurt,” Janey said solemnly.
Allie sat up in the bed and plopped a pillow behind her back. She snuggled Janey against her side and took a breath.
“It’s true that I have to be more careful, but life won’t be any fun if we stop doing everything that we loved before, right?”
Janey grinned, a gap showing where she had lost her first tooth a month ago. “Right.” Then her smile faded a little, her gaze dropped to the embroidered quilt under her small hands.
“What is it?” Allie put a finger under the little chin and tilted Janey’s head so she would meet her eyes.
“Well... Maggie said that you wouldn’t want me coming into your bed at night. That if I’m scared I should hold this stuffed bear instead.” Her small voice seemed to grow even smaller as she spoke.
Allie felt a surge of red hot anger wash over her. She struggled to keep her voice steady as she looke
d Janey in the eye and said, “You are always welcome. Always. Do you understand? I don’t care if it’s midnight or noon. I won’t mind if I’m at dinner or just reading or staring out the window or having tea or talking or...” She shook her head, wishing she could think of every scenario that would ever occur. “You may always, always come to me.”
Janey laughed, relief shone from her face. “Even if you’re on the porch with Mr. Bradford?”
Allie gaped. “You mean, like last night? Did you wake up during the storm?”
Janey nodded. “The thunder was so loud and I was scared, but Maggie said she went to find you but you were talking to Mr. Bradford on the porch. She gave me this bear to hug instead.”
Allie struggled to stay calm. She wanted to whip back the covers and march downstairs to find Maggie. She wanted to shake that girl until her teeth rattled.
“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I told her to come find me if you woke up. Nobody comes before you. Not Grandma Leeds. Not Mr. Bradford. Nobody. Understand?” Her heart was pounding so hard she struggled to take a deep breath.
Janey sighed and leaned into Allie’s side, her warm little body relaxing as she nestled her head against her shoulder.
They stayed that way for a while, snuggled deep under the quilt. Janey wondered what they would do that day and Allie spent several minutes making up silly plans like joining a pirate gang, just to hear Janey laugh.
“Miss Hathaway?” Maggie knocked lightly on the door and peered inside.
“Yes, we’re both in here,” Allie said, hoping her face didn’t show her anger at the sight of the young servant girl.
“Mrs. Leeds would like you both to come down for breakfast in half an hour.” Her eyes flicked to Janey’s blond head resting on Allie’s feather pillows.
“Thank you,” Allie said sitting up. She hoped she was doing the right thing by addressing the issue at the moment.
“Maggie, I’d like to say something, please come in,” she began. “Last night I asked you to find me if Janey woke up.”
“Yes, Miss, but when I heard you on the porch I didn’t want to interrupt, so I gave Janey that bear to hold.” She nodded, sincerity in her soft brown eyes.
Allie to find the words she needed. “I asked you to come find me. Janey was frightened during the storm, but I never knew it. I would have come upstairs immediately.”
“Yes, but you were with Mr. Bradford,” Maggie repeated, frowning now. She bit her lip anxiously and Allie suddenly felt sure that Maggie had meant no harm.
“Maggie, please understand that where Jane is concerned, I will always want to know. It does not matter what I am doing, or where I am going, or with whom I am speaking.” She leveled a narrow-eyed gaze at the young servant. “Do you understand?”
Maggie blushed deep scarlet and nodded. “Yes, Miss. I’m sorry.”
Allie let out a breath. “Let us put this behind us. We are all new at this situation, and it will take time to adjust to the ways in this house.” She smiled and Maggie smiled back, her chin trembling slightly.
“Did your parents ever let you come to them during a thunderstorm, Maggie?” Allie asked.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no, Miss! My father would lay a strap to any one of us that got up during the night.”
“The strap?” Allie frowned. “That seems a bit harsh.”
“He is very partial to the strap. Still is.” Something in Maggie’s voice sent alarm bells ringing for Allie.
“Still is? You have little brothers or sisters?”
“Yes, Miss. I have four younger brothers and three younger sisters.”
“Oh, my,” Allie laughed. “You must be surrounded by small people all the time.”
Maggie’s smile was tight. “My ma isn’t well. We older ones help out as we can.”
Allie’s gaze dropped, knowing the pain behind that smile. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
“Please tell my mother we’ll be down.”
Maggie nodded and backed out of the door, closing it softly behind her.
“Are we going into town today?,” Janey asked
Allie frowned. “No, I don’t think so. There are things to be done here.”
“I wanted to buy some more pencils. You remember?” Janey’s blue eyes were bright with energy.
“Oh, well... Janey, we should discuss that. You see,” here Allie sat away from her niece so she could look her in the face, “Grandma Leeds doesn’t really like drawing. She may not be happy with us if we sketch and paint like we did at home.”
Janey blinked up at her, silent.
“So, how about we do other things that she does approve of, like embroidery and sewing?”
“Embroidery?” Janey frowned, a tiny crease forming between her eyes. “Do you like embroidery, Auntie?”
“Not really, but it wouldn’t hurt me to work on some once in a while. Now that we’re here in her house, we should make an effort to get along, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” Janey plucked at a string in her stuffed bear’s little paw. “But shouldn’t she be trying to get along with us, too?”
Allie coughed, smothering a laugh. “Yes, sweetie, that’s true. But little by little we will learn to accept each other. And for now, we should wait before we buy more sketching charcoals.”
A small sigh left Janey’s lips and she nodded. “I suppose. But you had better start painting again soon.”
“Why is that?”
“Because that’s what you do, Auntie. Remember? You’re a painter,” Janey said, her tone like a patient parent reminding a forgetful child.
Allie was silent for a moment, rubbing the little girl’s soft arm and staring at the window near the bed. Drops slid down the glass pane, leaving a constantly changing pattern.
“Maybe that was what I was in San Francisco, but not here.”
“Didn’t you paint and draw when you lived here? Mr. Bradford said you had a sketching room upstairs.”
“Yes, I did.” Allie felt frustration rising in her and wished the little girl was more docile. That questioning spirit will serve her well later, but not here in this house. “But that was a long time ago. Let’s just say that we’ll take everything slowly, okay? We can settle in and then we can decide what we want to do next.”
“Okay,” Janey said, burrowing under the quilt again and wrapping her arms around Allie’s waist.
She gave her a loud kiss on the top of her blond head and said, “Time to get out and get dressed or Grandma Leeds will play Mama Bear for real.”
Janey giggled and struggled out of the blankets, standing on the end of the bed and jumping a few times.
“Oh no! Mama Bear will eat me!”
“Hurry and run to your cave, little bear,” Allie called out, laughing.
Janey leaped from the end of the bed and ran for the door, shrieking with laughter. After a few moments, Allie steeled herself and get out of bed for the second time that morning.
Everything is changed. We cannot go back eight years and become what we were then. Thomas’s words floated back to her from the night before. She stood before the mirror, looking at her pale face and the purple shadows under her eyes. Yes, everything was changed, there was no going back. And facing the future took a strength that was almost more than she could muster. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes and she felt despair wash over her.
For just a moment, she remembered how she used to start every morning with a prayer. Mrs. Gibson taught her when she was very small. It was a prayer for strength and wisdom, that all her work that day be pleasing to God. Allie shook her head. It was a useless prayer. A whole lifetime of praying those words and God chose to give His opinion after she had poured her heart into her work for almost a decade.
Allie tugged on a dress with short, angry jerks. He could have said something earlier. She paused in the act of drawing on her gloves. Maybe He had, but she hadn’t listened. The thought of all those years wasted made he
r hands tremble. Fine, she was listening now. Her whole future was wide open to anything He had planned for her. Whether it was Mr. Bascomb or endless mid-winter balls or even staying in this rambling old mansion for the rest of her life, that’s what she would do. Her lips set in an angry thin line, she stalked out of the room and down to breakfast.
“I was just beginning to wonder if we should bring you breakfast in bed,” Mrs. Gibson said, bustling around the table and pulling out Allie’s chair. The table was set with the everyday china. A twining green vine of ivy circled the circled the main centerpiece of pink cabbage roses.
She settled into her chair with a smile, but Allie’s stomach was churning. “Why? I’m not sick, I feel perfectly well.”
“Of course, of course, dear,” the stout housekeeper patted her on the shoulder and unfolded the fine linen napkin. She moved to lay it on Allie’s lap but she snatched it away with a frown.
“I said I’m perfectly well,” she snapped, smoothing the napkin over her skirt. She glanced up in time to see her mother’s face filled with concern and Janey’s wide eyes. “I mean, thank you, but I can manage.” She grimaced inwardly. This was not a good start to the morning. She needed to put her aches and pains out of her mind. It wasn’t like her to let her temper lead her tongue. Mrs. Gibson sat gingerly in her chair and took a sip of her tea. Her eyes were downcast and Allie knew she had wounded the elderly housekeeper.
“Mrs. Gibson,” she said, “I wanted to thank you for those wonderful bath oils. The lavender essence has solved my sleep difficulties in just a few nights.”
A smile creased her face and Mrs. Gibson said, “You’re very welcome, dear! Mrs. Winston told me the lavender is good for renewing weary spirits.”
“Mother, what do you think I should wear to the mayor’s picnic?” Allie flashed a bright smile down to the end of the table.
Her mother paused in the act of buttering a slice of toasted bread. “Well, that depends on whether all your dresses have been finished,” she said, her look of concern instantly replaced with one of pleasant interest. “It is only a few weeks away. If the lace trimmed light blue linen gown is finished, then that might be your first choice. If not, the perhaps the cream colored silk with the lilac organza sheer overlay. It’s a bit more formal for a picnic but it is always better to be more formally attired, than to be found wanting. We have already had one delivery this morning from Mr. Morton’s. Maggie is bringing them upstairs.”
All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith) Page 11
