Allie glanced up in surprise. “If you like. I am sure it is just the same.” And then her cheeks filled with color, as if she had only just realized where it was they were heading. She brought her gaze forward with a snap and her brows drew down.
Thomas pretended not to notice. They walked along the path in silence, a canopy of branches dappling the shade and sun. The sounds of birds and small animals lessened as they walked along, not bothering to be careful of twigs and bushes. Allie limped slightly but said nothing. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could offer assistance without trespassing on her privacy. She was proud, even brought low by tragedy.
After a few minutes, the path curved around and Allie doggedly pressed through the narrow space to the edge of the pond. It was a difficult walk and at times the path was completely overgrown. Thomas offered his hand as they made their way to the far side. She did not say where she was headed and he did not ask. It was clear that Allie was determined to visit the spot where his entire life had changed forever.
Thomas felt his pulse jumping and whispered a silent prayer. I do not understand why she has come here. Help me to know what You want me to do.
And then they rounded the bend of the pond, the clear surface reflecting the cloudless sky like a mirror. The grassy area underneath the giant pine was filled with waist-high, late summer grass moving slightly with the breeze. Thomas’s mind flashed back to that moment so long ago. They had been perched on a fallen tree and Allie was so close, leaning forward, lips parted. He blinked and the scene disappeared. Instead, he saw Allie drop to the shady ground with a wide smile. She folded her parasol and bent over to yank at the laces of her boots.
“The water looks wonderful, does it not? I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
****
Allie slipped the laces from the eyelets of her boot and tugged it off. There was a good rule about walking too far in newly purchased shoes. She wiggled one foot in the cool grass and worked at her other boot. The past half hour all she could think of was how heavenly it would be to stick her aching feet into the cold water of the pond. Even on the hottest days, the underground spring kept it cool. She succeeded in removing the other boot and slipped off her black silk stockings that were damp with sweat.
She glanced up at Thomas. His face was frozen in shock. She looked back at her feet, confused. Perhaps it was not attractive to wiggle her bare toes in the grass, especially as puckered red scars peeped from under the long hem of her dress. Her ankles had taken the worst of the damage on her legs. She self-consciously tugged the hem over her feet.
“Pardon me. I do not mean to be impolite.” She felt heat creep up her neck and reached for her silk stockings. “It was the heat and the dust. All I could think of was putting my feet in the water.”
Thomas chuckled and dropped to the ground next to her. “Oh, just your feet then.”
“Well, yes.” She frowned, struggling to catch on to his thoughts. When she did, her face flamed again and she let out a derisive noise. “I see now. You thought I intended to take a mid-day swim. I have been living in San Francisco these past years, not Persia.” She couldn’t keep the scorn from her voice.
She stuck both feet into the cold water and barely suppressed a groan. She would have aches and pains tomorrow, but for this moment, the day’s long walk was erased in the chill of the pond water. She wrapped her dress around her calves and leaned back on her hands, gently moving her feet in small circles.
Thomas was quiet for a moment, scanning the far edge of the pond. “Allie, I feel as if I have offended you more times today than I have in our entire friendship.”
The blunt statement caught her off guard. She stared at the water for a moment. Had he offended her? When he wrapped his arms around her in the lane, she felt safe, even though her chin was pressed into his shirtfront and the handle of the parasol was crushed in her fist. The scent of clean linen, strong soap, and Thomas himself immobilized her. It took several moments before she could force a sound, to even say his name. She only wanted to be held in his arms forever.
Gripping her arm was not as pleasant. Allie understood his dislike for Mr. Bascomb because she seemed quite unable to spend more than a few hours with the horrible man, herself. And yes, she had told him to let her go. But it was more of a reminder that she was not the one he wanted to shake.
As for the idea that she would strip down to her underthings and swim in the pond, Allie wanted to roll her eyes and give Thomas a smack on the arm. And she would if they were ten years younger. Since she was a grown woman, it was more becoming to use sarcasm, in her opinion.
“Mr. Bradford, nothing you have done today has caused me distress,” she said simply. Her feet moved in lazy circles in the coolness, little ripples of water lapped the edge of the grass where she sat.
She felt Thomas relax beside her. “I am happy to hear it.” And then he plucked a long piece of grass and stuck it in his mouth.
“Except perhaps your driving.”
He opened one eye. “My driving is exemplary. Your walking is a danger to the public.”
Allie glanced over and couldn’t suppress the laughter that bubbled up. His hat was pushed back on his head, dark hair falling over his forehead, face tilted up at the sun, eyes closed once more. His long legs were stretched out and ankles crossed, as he leaned back on his elbows. The image was so near to her memories of him that her heart stuttered. How many hours had they spent talking on late summers afternoons? She had sketched this exact pose countless times.
But now he was changed, ever so slightly, in a hundred different ways. She peered closer, the artist in her overcoming any inhibitions. His hair was thick and dark, but more stylish than the short crop he’d worn as a carriage man. His brow had widened and his jawline had lost any softness he carried through childhood. Even as a young man he had shaved his whiskers but Allie noted he now wore the longer sideburns that were in vogue. His lips were full and― Allie blinked, hurriedly focusing elsewhere on his face.
The deep creases near his mouth came directly from his Irish father. Allie could bring his image to mind in an instant and compare it to the man before her. The strong jaw, the straight nose, it all was pleasing to the eye. But there was something else that made Thomas attractive... Allie tilted her head and pondered his face as the birds flitted in the trees behind them. It was that bright spark of energy, of vibrant life perhaps. Maybe it was a tenderness he showed to all things, especially animals. An image rose up of him with the large black stallion today. His hands were confident but gentle, his movements smooth and precise. Then again, it might be the way he focused on a person, the way he listened intently, fully present. Even in silence he seemed to be speaking. She squinted, as if the exact nature of him would become apparent. There was one other man she knew like him.
“You remind me so much of Matthew,” she said.
He looked up at the leaves moving lazily in the breeze. “I was very sorry to hear of his passing. He was a good friend to me.”
“You would have liked Eleanor. They were so happy together, those two. They loved to walk around the dunes, looking for treasures. Once they found a glass float the Japanese fisherman use on their nets. It rested on a shelf in the kitchen and when the early morning light passed through it just right, it made a rainbow on the wall.” Allie shook her head, trying to clear the image of the ruined apartment, where the glass ball was surely shattered into a pile of shards. “And they loved Janey with every beat of their hearts although she doesn’t even remember them. I will never understand...” Her voice trailed off. She would never understand why God had to take so much from Janey, from her.
The sentence hung in the air between them, unfinished. “She may not remember them, but their love changed her.” His tone was soft, almost melancholy. “Being loved changes us.”
Allie frowned down at her feet, wiggling her toes under the water. “You say that like love is a sort of magic or is...” She couldn’t quite grasp the word.
“Powerful? Enough to change disaster into blessing?”
Allie turned to him, frowning. “Is that the way you feel? I really don’t know anything that could do that.”
“True, nothing can. But God is not a thing,” he said, a small crease between his brows.
Allie refocused on her feet. Of course, Thomas would say that God could do that. But if He could, then why hadn’t He? She was so tired of trying to figure it all out, to make sense of the tragedy her life had become. “I wish I had your faith. It would be so much simpler.”
“Truly?” Thomas cocked an eyebrow, challenging her.
Allie shrugged one shoulder irritably. “Perhaps not. I wish I could just accept that God doesn’t care for us individually, that He’s high up in heaven, blind to all our little trials.”
“In Isaiah, it says that as a shepherd carries a lamb, God carries us close to his heart,” he said quietly. There was no argument in his words.
Allie said nothing, watching the gnats circle in small groups over the pond. There were lots of shepherd verses, but she’d never even seen a sheep up close.
He continued, eyes focused on the leaves overhead. “And Psalm 139 states that God’s thoughts toward us are as countless as the sand on the seashore.”
Now, she was familiar with sand. Allie tried to imagine grains one by one. But none of this made her feel better. Actually, she felt a distant ache blooming in her chest.
“As I just said, it would be easier to know God was unaware of our trials.” She knew her tone was petulant and hated how childish she sounded. But if God was so close to her, He must not love her very much.
“Jeremiah 31 says God loves with an everlasting love.”
She turned to him, surprised by his quick answer to her unspoken question. “You must be spending a lot of time reading the Bible to have these verses handy,” she said dryly.
Thomas grinned, one side of his mouth quirked up in the way that made her heart react before her head could interfere. “I do, but mostly these are verses that have helped me in my own times of trial.”
Allie felt the conversation was swirling with undercurrents. He was the only person she could be truly honest with now. But there was an old hurt standing between them.
“I understand,” she said slowly, “that when I left for San Francisco, you felt like I had broken a promise.” She felt her cheeks grow warm but she forged on. “But after you left for college, you made it clear that I was not first in your thoughts.”
Thomas bolted upright. “When did I do such a thing?”
Allie lifted her chin. There was no reason why she should keep the hurt hidden any longer. They were many years past the blush of first love. “When you first moved to Iowa, you wrote me weekly. Then it was less often. Then... then you mentioned young ladies in your classes as if- as if-” She hated that she was unable to continue, the old hurt rising up and choking off her words.
“Young ladies? There was only one girl in my classes, Sally, and we could not bear the sight of each other,” he said, tone incredulous.
“That was not what I inferred.” She threw the words at him as carelessly as possible, hoping he would not see how it still caused her intense grief.
“Inferred?” Thomas repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he seemed to reconsider. “I suppose I might have mentioned Sally without making it perfectly clear that I had no plans to marry her.”
Allie stared out at the pond, eyes slitted against the glare on the water.
“Also, I may have neglected to write as often as I should have. I was very busy.” Again, a short pause. He stared down at his hands, running a blade of grass through his fingers. “I beg your pardon for neglecting you. I never would have... I should not have left any room for doubt.”
His words surprised her and she turned to look into his face. His eyes were still focused on the grass blade, his face etched with pain.
“Thank you.” Allie wasn’t quite sure why her heart was lifting. She hoped it wasn’t some sort of revenge, bringing to light old grievances. But the sadness in his eyes was affecting the long-ago hurt. Reminding him of Sally was as if she had torn off the hard scab of the wound and the memory bled anew. His apology was like a soothing poultice. Allie felt her bitterness and anger was fading away. If only she had asked him then, the summer he returned from school. Instead she pretended that all was well and let the wound fester.
“Will you be at the governor’s picnic this Saturday?”
The question caught Allie off guard. Was he trying to remind her that Louise had taken her place? The elation she felt moments before turned to lead in her stomach.
“Yes, with Janey and Mama.”
He squinted out at the pond, the sunlight reflecting off the water onto his face. “Ransom Garnett brought in his horse yesterday. He asked after you.”
Allie said nothing. After the Sunday service he had appeared next to her. She barely remembered the man, except for his pleasant manners and easy way of speaking. She had been so focused on Thomas.
“He has secured a fine position with Herman Blankentop, as an accountant. His father owns four large flour mills on the East Side.” His tone was even and his expression inscrutable.
She struggled to against the bitter words that fought on the tip of her tongue. So, a successful man must be the cure to all of her ills? One moment they were mending fences and the next, he was acting like Mama in her quest for the perfect suitor.
Fine, she could play this game. “Mr. Garnett is also quite handsome. With his blue eyes and perfectly wavy hair, he will be able to pick any woman he wishes.”
Thomas nodded, a frown line appearing between his thick brows as they lowered over his eyes.
She swung her feet in the water and said, “Imagine how sweet his children will look. Perfect cherubs. I’m very partial to blond-haired babies, since Janey was born.”
His face was like thunder and Allie saw a muscle jumping in his jaw. She felt a strange surge of emotion but it was wrapped in feelings of hurt and anger. She wanted him to suffer, to feel as lost as she did when he talked about Louise. And then she hated herself for wanting it.
“You know Mama says no man will want to marry me and take Janey, too,” she said softly. All the white hot anger slipped out of her at the thought of leaving the little girl behind in her mother’s house, at the hands of strict Miss Anthony.
“It’s true, there are some men who will not want the responsibility of a child.” He glanced at her. “But I have a dear friend, Mr. Joe Starling, who married a woman with six children. They are all very happy together.”
“Six?” gasped Allie, then she laughed at the thought of the children descending on the poor man every night when he came home. “Well, then perhaps Janey and I have a chance after all.”
“I am very sure you have an excellent chance. But Allie,” he said, pausing as if he was choosing his words carefully, “surely you don’t intend to marry for anything less than love?”
Her gaze searched his face, hoping to see some hint of humor. There was none. He believed that she had a say in her future.
“Thomas,” she said, shaking her head. “What choice do I have? The earthquake and fire destroyed everything. I came home because I could not raise Janey in a tent. My mother has made it very clear that I will marry by this time next year, if not sooner.” Allie’s voice hitched on the last words.
“You will not paint, even to support her?” He fixed his gaze on her face, incredulous.
“It’s not so simple.” She sat up, tearing small pieces of grass to shreds in her fingers.
“Then explain it. There is no one to interrupt here.” His tone was soft, but like steel.
Allie frowned into her lap, searching for words. “When I left for San Francisco, I was going to show everyone that they were wrong about me, especially mother.”
“And you did.”
“Yes, but it was more than that.” She stared out at the water. “I wanted to make people love
me, respect me. The more famous I became, the more money I earned with every painting...” Her voice trailed off.
He waited quietly, listening.
“I was sure that I was worthy of love. I was happy because I’d proven myself. I expected only the best. And then when it was all gone, I saw how it was just the outside that had changed. All I can see are wasted years, painting portraits of rich people. I poured my heart and soul into something that was worthless.” She shot him a glance. “Probably sounds very stupid.”
Thomas was quiet, expression somber. “You were always worthy, Allie.”
She waved a hand. “Of course, to the carriage man’s son, I would seem to be someone very special.”
He bolted upright. “Yes, but that’s not what I meant. You were born worthy, Allie. What you were seeking was love that has no end. And God has given you that from your very beginnings.”
Allie felt anger rise in her. He was giving her a speech, and he was just as guilty. “So, you worked as hard as you have only for the purest reasons?”
Thomas frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“It seems I’m not the only one who fought for success. You say we’re born worthy, but then you spend ten hours a day at your business. You took a place on the city council. You bought a very fine house in one of the best neighborhoods.”
She watched bright spots appear over his cheekbones but didn’t take back a word.
“Perhaps it is true that I have worked hard for reasons other than to provide for my family. It is not easy to forget where I come from, especially when my mother is so very anxious to reinvent our family.”
Allie met his gaze. She knew what it was like to want a mother’s approval, to yearn for the kind of love that should be unconditional.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was unfair.”
“I can always count on you to be honest, Allie.” His tone was thick with unspoken words.
She looked up, saw the fierce emotion reflected there. She shuddered, feeling like her heart was straining to open. “It doesn’t matter now whether I was painting for the wrong reason or not. Taking care of Janey is the only right thing at the moment. Everything else comes second. Even painting.”
All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith) Page 15
