All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith)

by Carmichael, Virginia

  Thomas. His name alone made her heart speed up its rhythm. She saw him so briefly at the picnic, with that odious Louise on his arm. Allie wasn’t a jealous woman by nature, but she struggled to control the venom that crept into her heart. She wanted to wish Louise the pox, or at the very least, a red nose and watery eyes. But it seemed the girl was blessed with beauty enough to snag Thomas.

  Allie wandered back toward the dining room, the sound of Janey’s little voice reaching all the way into the hallway. She paused near the portrait of her brother, Matthew, and his bride. The gray tints did not give justice to Eleanor’s auburn curls, or Matthew’s bright blue eyes. But their love was there, in the gentle hand he laid on her shoulder, the tilt of her head toward his. Allie felt her lips move into a small smile, even as sadness dropped a veil over her heart. She saw no hints of a love like that between Thomas and Louise, but that meant very little.

  Any wife of his would be strong in her faith, bound to be a strong Christian mother and support for her husband. Allie closed her eyes, briefly, pain scorching through her like fire. She wanted to have faith, she really did. But how could she reconcile with a God who had taken everything from her? How could she trust Him again? And there was no way to fake that sort of faith, even if she was cold enough to try. Thomas would know. Just as he knew when she couldn’t sing in church. He was not a man to live in ignorance about his own wife.

  Allie rested her head against the wall, letting the sound of Janey’s chatter fade away. She was so tired of struggling, so tired of being to everyone what they wanted her to be. For a moment, her mind swirled with fear under a new question. Did she even know what she wanted anymore? Her eyes popped open, gaze fixed. Cold spread down her limbs as if she was being dunked in ice water. All she could see ahead of her was years of pretending to be someone she wasn’t for people who didn’t have to live with the consequences.

  Please, Lord. I don’t know what to do. With those words she stood up straight, wrapping her arms around her middle. It was such a natural thing, to talk to God as if they were friends. But they weren’t. Allie’s eyes filled with tears and she choked back a gasp. She had never felt so alone.

  A knock sounded on the door just feet behind her and she turned automatically to open it, waving away a harried-looking Mary. She swung it open to reveal Thomas. He was the picture of health, wealth and prosperity. She couldn’t keep her gaze from traveling from the jaunty gray hat perched on tidy dark hair down his immaculate wool suit with matching vest to pressed trousers to brightly shining shoes. And back up. She felt heat rushing to her cheeks as she met his dark eyes, crinkled in mirth.

  “Do I meet with your approval, or should I return at some later date?” His voice was low and husky.

  Allie gave herself a mental slap and pasted a bright smile to her features. “I apologize. I was admiring... your―” What could she say? She was admiring his fine suit, shocked yet again at the change from the poor young man she had once loved. She did not think she could be more flustered as Thomas let out a warm chuckle.

  “That’s a comfort. I was not quite sure whether you were admiring, or debating whether to grant me entry to the house.”

  She resigned herself to not being able to explain away her words, so she opened the door wide and motioned him in. “Please excuse me.”

  Thomas stepped inside, removing his hat in one smooth gesture. “The postman asked me to deliver this. We met on the road.” Thomas handed over a small brown package, tied with twine.

  Allie took it, checked the postmark, let out a gasp. “It’s from the Caffeys.” She turned it over in her hands, feeling as if an old friend had arrived without notice. “Janey was staying with them on the night of the earthquake.” She glanced up at him, and then back down the hallway.

  “Do you mind very much if I open it? There are so many things that Mama disapproves of and I don’t wish to cause– ”

  “I understand,” he said, grinning. He pulled a small folding knife from his trouser pocket and slid open the tiny blade. “Allow me.” With a deft movement he removed the twine and opened one end of the heavy paper.

  Allie slid a square from the wrapping and stood, gazing at it.

  “Do you wish to open it alone?” His voice was soft, wary.

  Allie shook herself from her reverie. “No, it’s just that... I know what this is.” She unwrapped the tissue covering, and unfolded the square. It was a small piece of canvas, bright brush strokes seemed to bring the sun inside the dim hallway. She glanced at the letter inside, and folded it again.

  Thomas held out his hand and Allie passed the square to him. He held it out at arm’s length, brows lowered. He put a hand to his chin, considering. “Not your best work. But if this is what made you a fortune, I suppose you should stick with it.”

  Allie couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. “Always the jokester.” The smile faded from her face as she stepped next to him, looking at the crude rendering of a man, a woman, a little girl and a four-legged creature that towered over them. “Janey liked to use the linen canvas cast-offs for her own masterpieces. This was her dream for our family. See my paintbrush is that stick in my hand. And this is a horse that we keep in our apartment. He eats at the table because he’s trained.”

  He shot her a glance. “And the man?”

  “It changed by the day. Sometimes it was the man who swept the street in front of our apartment. Other times it was the local fish monger.”

  “I didn’t know she liked fish so much.”

  “She liked how he threw them around.” Allie smiled a little, remembering how Janey would beg to stand at the market just to hear the men bark orders and toss the fish from the holding to the front counters.

  “She’ll be glad to get this back. It was thoughtful of them to send it.”

  Allie sighed. “Very. But I can’t let Janey have it here. Mama is having enough trouble with our past as it is. Janey doesn’t help matters when she declares she’s going to be a famous painter, or singer, or dancer.”

  His studied the painting for a moment, not speaking. “I am sorry for it. I wish... I hoped she would be able to accept your success, eventually.” He raised his eyes, searching her face. “May I keep this for you? When you’re settled, you can have it back, put it up on display.”

  Allie nodded. “Thank you. I don’t want to be secretive, or start trouble, or―”

  “I know.” He carefully folded the linen into squares and tucked it under one arm. “Don’t give another thought about it.” Those dark eyes gave her a careful look. “But you did seem a bit out of sorts when you opened the door.”

  “I probably was. I was in the middle of an argument when you knocked.”

  “Argument? Has Mr. McGovern returned?” He lifted his head, and listened. His shoulders straighten, hands coming down to his sides as if in readiness to defend the women of the house. “But no, you would never have stood here chatting with me if that drunkard was in your house.”

  “Too right,” Allie said, smiling a little. She shoved away the warmth that crept across her chest at the sight of Thomas preparing for battle, even if there was no real threat. “I was just arguing with God. I forgot we weren’t speaking.”

  She wasn’t sure if he’d heard, his face still turned toward the dining room. She moved to close the door behind him, shutting out the sun of the early fall day, and throwing the entryway into shadow.

  ****

  Thomas froze, feeling his heart pirouette in his chest. Arguing with God? She said the words so lightly. He struggled keep from letting out a whoop of joy. “I am sure the silence is more painful for Him than it is for you.”

  Allie turned back to him and cocked her head, those bright eyes narrowed in thought. He watched emotions flit over her face. Doubt, irritation, fatigue. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her to lay those burdens down. But Allie was a strong woman. She would not want to be told what to do. He settled for wishing, and waited to hear the argument that was sure to
come.

  “Maybe you are right.”

  That was not the response he was expecting. Was Allie softening toward God? “I think it is harder to suffer a friend’s silence than to have an argument.”

  Allie’s face turned a deep shade of pink and she glanced down at her hands, the soft folds of her pale yellow dress under her fingers. “I’m sorry I never wrote you. I was confused. After you went away and I thought... then you came back and proposed...”

  “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to bring those days up again.” He rushed to reassure her, wanting to smooth the lines from her brow. She had so many trials, he did not want to be one more cause for anxiety in her life.

  She nodded, looking relieved. “I would have written. I wanted to tell you so many things. You would have loved it there, Thomas.” Her eyes flashed and she stepped forward a few steps. He could smell her light perfume and resisted the impulse to inhale deeply.

  “Matthew liked to watch the freight ships come in to the harbor. We would go very early in the morning, before the sun came up. The chaos was unbelievable.” She let out a soft laugh and he could see the joy in the memory. “The men tossed around crates of goods like children’s blocks. The sailors came from all over the world. I never saw so many strange faces in all my life.”

  “I would have enjoyed your letters, to be sure.” He smiled, imagining what it would have been like to hear every detail of her adventures. “You miss it. How bland Chicago must seem, with its staid buildings and industrial factories, after living in such an exotic place.”

  “I suppose.” She looked down at her hands again. “But it’s very different, I’m sure, since the quake. The fire destroyed what wasn’t lost to the earthquake. The tone of the city isn’t carefree any longer. It’s sad and bitter.” She refocused on his face. “But I would not have written you, if we were friends.”

  “I’m sorry?” He wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly.

  “That sounds odd. What I mean is that if we were still friends, then I wouldn’t have refused you, and I never would have left, and I wouldn’t have been writing you any letters.”

  Thomas nodded slowly. “I see.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Do you think it could have been different? That you could have gone to San Francisco to study, and we also could have...” His voice trailed away. Why was it so hard to speak the words?

  “Been married later?” Her cheeks were flaming now but her voice was steady. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I would have been so driven to succeed. Would you have agreed to let me go?”

  “As if any man could tell you what to do.”

  “But you could have, if we were to be married.” Allie paused, as if deciding whether to continue. “If we were engaged and you had asked me to stay, I would have.”

  “Really?” He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. All these years he had figured Allie was a woman that would sacrifice her dream for no man. “But it would not have been right.”

  A small smile played around her lips, as if she liked his answer. “So you would have said yes to San Francisco.”

  Thomas laid the package and his hat on the hallway table and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He dropped his gaze to the parquet floor, thinking hard. He remembered his heartbreak so vividly. The months and years of despair haunted his dreams. But he had trouble recalling what he felt when Allie talked of studying in San Francisco. All he had felt was fear at losing her.

  “I don’t know. Truthfully, Allie, I was a very selfish young man. All I cared about was marrying you. Your dream came second.”

  Her chin lifted in surprise and she shot him a dubious glance. “I don’t remember it that way. You were my champion, in the years I struggled to paint despite my mother’s wishes. You let me sit in your barn, sketching. You left little gifts in the oak tree.” Allie’s eyes were soft as she spoke.

  “I would search all day for some treasure to put in that old tree.” He felt a smile spread over his face at the memory. “And I let you sit in the barn because I wanted to be near you, even if I was mucking out the stalls.” He made a noise in the back of his throat. “You probably associate me with the smell of horse droppings to this very day.”

  “I do not. But I do think of you when I smell hay and horses. Oh, I want to say that your veterinarian enterprise is very impressive.”

  Thomas felt his chest swell with pride. He was acting like a little boy, desperate for approval, but he couldn’t help it. Her opinion meant so much more to him than any other. “Thank you.”

  “I suppose everything has worked out for the best, then.”

  The warm feeling in his chest turned icy cold. “It has?”

  Allie’s gaze shifted to the wall behind Thomas. “You are very successful. Maybe it was best if we took separate paths.”

  He stepped forward before he thought it through, grasping her hands. “Allie, I would gladly surrender everything I have if it meant we could return to the past.”

  Her lips parted in surprise, her gaze searching his face. He watched her struggle to understand his words. Her eyes dropped to his lips and he felt a warmth travel from his chest outward, down his arms, to their joined hands. “You don’t mean that,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath.

  “But I do. I won’t pretend to understand why God allowed us to be separated but if I had the power I would go back to that day and change our futures.” He could feel her fingers tremble in his. He lifted them slowly, holding her gaze. If only there was a way to show her his sincerity, to bridge the gap between his love and her heart. He pressed her fingers to his lips, feeling the warmth of her hands against his mouth.

  She made a soft sound in her throat but didn’t move away. Her eyes were half-closed, watching his every move. Then she seemed to come to her senses. Gently she eased her hands away from his.

  “Thomas,” she said, her voice husky. She stopped, and clear her throat, trying again. “You deserve someone better. Any wife of yours must be strong. In body and mind... and heart.”

  “We can be strong together.” He wanted to reach out and gather her to him, but she had already moved away once.

  “ I have spent so long chasing what does not matter. Your life has meaning. You have such a deep faith.” Tears filling her eyes.

  “Allie, I’ve spent a lot of time building a business that will show the world I am worthy of respect. Just like you, I was working so hard for something that only comes from above. When you left, I did my own share of arguing with God. After I was done being silent, of course.”

  She let out a surprised laugh and blinked back her tears. “But a husband and a wife should be well-matched, their faith should be the rock on which they build their family.”

  “That is true.”

  “Then how can you want me?” The pain in her voice was so stark, so wrenching that he could no longer hold himself in check.

  Thomas reached out to Allie, and she moved into his arms as if they had been made for each other, heart to heart. He breathed in the scent of her perfume, closed his eyes and pressed his lips against her hair. “Oh, Allie,” he whispered. “You are hurting and angry. Everyone struggles. And I have never stopped wanting you to be my wife.”

  He could feel her cheek pressed against his shirt, the soft curves of her arms around his waist. “What about Louise?” Her words were muffled against his chest.

  Thomas leaned back so he could look her in the eye. “Louise Lloyd? Do you think that I was considering her for a wife?”

  “Well, you did take her to the picnic.”

  Thomas shook his head, chuckling. “If I had known the picnic was so important, I would have gone with you. As it was, I asked Louise last month. And that was before I knew her better.”

  Allie raised an eyebrow. “And now?”

  “Now I know we have nothing in common.”

  There was a small silence and Thomas could feel the air pulse with Allie’s thoughts. Finally, she spoke. “Thomas, if I as
k you a question, will you tell me the truth?”

  He dropped a kiss on her hair. He never wanted to let go of her again, but her words told him that he needed to take a step back. Allie needed to see his face, his eyes. He let his hands slip down to his sides and moved away from her warmth. “Yes, I will. Always.”

  “Is this... Are you considering me as a wife because of Janey?” She pressed her lips together, as if to hold back the words. “Do you think we need to be rescued?”

  Thomas hesitated. Of course they needed to be rescued. Janey should stay with Allie forever and Allie was still recovering from the disaster. She was fragile, but growing stronger every day. He knew Allie wasn’t happy in her mother’s house, and he could not imagine watching her marry a man just to escape. The thoughts swirled in his mind and he struggled to form a response.

  She straightened her shoulders. “That is what I suspected. Thomas, I thank you for your kindness. But you told me that one should never marry for less than love, that the children would suffer. That Janey would suffer.” Her words were steady even as her eyes overflowed with tears.

  With those words she turned on her heel and strode down the hallway toward the stairs.

  ***

  Allie walked blindly, feeling her way with one hand outstretched, determined to make it to the stairway before the tears spilled over onto her cheeks. She would never tie Thomas down to a woman who had less than the strongest faith. He was too good to keep, even though her heart was breaking.

  “Allie!” Thomas called out, closer than she thought possible in the few seconds since she’d turned.

  She made it to the first step before she felt his hand grasp her elbow. She slowed, turning her face to the wall. It cost her everything she had to speak those words and she would not take them back. She had caused him tremendous pain once. She would not do it again.

  “Allie,” he said, voice rough with urgency. “You misunderstand me. I love you. I always have. But I also see the position you are in with Janey.”