All The Blue of Heaven (Colors of Faith)

by Carmichael, Virginia

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him rake a hand through his hair. “Please, Allie, don’t hold the truth against me.” His tone was tired, as if his heart was failing.

  She turned her head and struggled to focus on his face. At a step above him, they were almost the same height. She was close enough to see the dark shadow of his jaw, the thick lashes around his warm brown eyes. She loved him, of course. She knew that with everything she had. Tears slipped from her eyes without her permission.

  “Thomas,” she started, then paused, trying to find the words she needed. “I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for us. Maybe... Maybe we were never meant to be together. Like Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed, never able to find a peaceful end to our drama.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “I always detested that play. There is nothing romantic in an unhappy ending full of death and suffering.”

  Allie felt a smile tug at her lips despite of the crushing weight on her heart. “Yes, only those of us who have endured loss and suffering see it as so very unromantic.” She glanced down at his hand, still gripping her elbow. She tentatively placed her own over his, feeling the rough callouses under her fingers. “I wish it could have happened naturally, like Sarah and Nathan.”

  His brows drew down over his dark gaze. “So, you’re refusing me because our history is too complicated?”

  Allie lifted a hand to rub a painful throbbing that started in her temple. She felt light-headed, disoriented. “Not just our history. But now, this.” She waved at the house, then motioned between them. “As if, as if we are– ” She struggled to grasp the idea that was forming and give it words. Thomas waited, gaze fixed on her face. “Perhaps we are a substance that separately is perfectly manageable, but together we become... like poor Mr. Van Gogh’s Emerald Green!”

  His eyes narrowed, clearly not following her argument. “Like chemicals, then? And together we are sulfur dioxide? Or ethers?”

  “I don’t know what those do, but there are some combinations that are lethal together. You know they sell Emerald Green in Paris now as a rat poison? I don’t want us to be―”

  Thomas nodded slowly. “Beautiful on the outside. Lethal in combination.”

  “I want to be sure, Thomas. I want Janey to have a happy life, not concerned with her parents’ troubles. You convinced me of that.” She could hardly speak the words through the ache in her throat.

  His gaze fixed on their hands, resting together. Then he withdrew his hand from hers and straightened. Allie knew he was accepting her words for what they were: the truth. She thought for one moment that she would not be able to hear him agree. She would not be able to stand there on the staircase steps and pretend her world was not ending. Her mind flashed on her ruined cathedral, a pile of rubble in a crippled city. So many endings, so much pain. Please, give me strength, Lord.

  Thomas raised his eyes to hers, but the look of finality she expected was not there. In the next moment he lifted his hand and slipped it behind her head, bringing her toward him, meeting her lips with his own. Surprise shot through her, swiftly followed by the feeling of her heart hammering in her chest, straining at the bonds that held it prisoner. His lips were warm and soft; Allie was rendered incapable of moving the few inches away, to safety.

  Thomas lifted his head and met her gaze, eyes bright with emotion. “Perhaps we are like a chemical compound, Allie. Perhaps we’re so spectacular that it would be a sin to keep us apart. We could be life-giving together, like hydrogen and oxygen.” He lifted one hand and traced her jaw with a finger. “But I do want you to be sure. I don’t mind waiting. I waited eight long years. A few more months won’t make much difference.”

  He stepped away and tilted his head toward the sitting room. “I’m going to say hello to your mother and Janey.”

  Allie nodded mutely, barely able to hear over the pounding of her heart. He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving as many questions in his wake as answers. Allie touched the fingers of her hand against her lips. She could still feel his kiss, as if the ghost of it had taken up residence. She closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. One moment they’d been making peace with the fact they missed their chance. And the next, he was claiming her lips, declaring he would wait as long as it took for her to be sure.

  She turned and blindly followed the turn of the staircase, placing one foot in front of the other. As she reached her room, Allie’s head started to clear. The windows were letting in the watery winter light and she lowered herself to the edge of the bed. The smallest of smiles began to spread over her face, then stretched into a grin. For the first time in months, Allie began to feel as if she was not completely alone.

  But she was never truly alone, was she? Allie slowly folded her hands and slipped to her knees. God was patient and ever faithful. Thank You for waiting, she whispered as hot tears slipped from underneath her lids.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Sarah, can I ask you a personal question?”Allie set her tea cup down on the linen cloth and glanced toward Janey, playing jacks with two little blond boys. Their heads were bent in concentration and Allie was certain they were too absorbed in their game to pay heed to adult conversation.

  “Of course. We’re friends. You can ask me anything.”

  She swallowed, wondering how to frame her question. “You and Nathan―” She paused, struggling to find words.

  She leaned forward, laying her hand over Allie’s. “Is this about Thomas?”

  “How did you know?” She couldn’t suppress the tone of surprise.

  Her friend giggled and patted Allie’s hand. “Who doesn’t know, is the question. The way he looks at you should be a crime. Nathan said it makes all the other men look like they’re deaf and blind to their women.”

  Allie felt her mouth drop open. “He does? I didn’t know, I hadn’t seen―” She shook her head. “What I wanted to ask was about how you and Nathan courted. Was it easy? Or did you have troubles?”

  Sarah cocked her head, small lines appearing in her forehead. “I wouldn’t say we had troubles, although his mother was not so keen on his choice at first. She had another girl in mind. But we made each other laugh.” She gazed thoughtfully out at the children, gleefully snatching jacks in turn. “We both supported the charity hospital. Our favorite hymn is the same. We both liked to pray in the morning and ask God to bless our day. Now we pray as a family.” She said the words with a sweet smile of contentment on her face.

  Allie’s gaze dropped to her cup, watching the dregs of her tea reflect the weak sunlight streaming through the windows. Thomas’s kiss was only hours before, but felt as new as if it had happened just minutes ago. Up in her room, she had begun to make peace with God, but it seemed such a small step to repairing the hurt she had nursed for months. She and Thomas were far from the kind of unity Sarah described.

  “It’s just that nothing about us is so simple. There’s Janey, for one, although I know that Thomas would welcome her in an instant. But we have some history because when I left for San Francisco, he asked me to marry him then, and I refused him.” She watched Sarah’s expression shift from surprise to understanding. “And now we’re in such different positions. I’ve lost everything and he’s gained everything.”

  “Allie, you may see it that way, but you’re likely the only one. Don’t you have paintings around the world, in galleries? Isn’t one of your paintings hanging in the White House? You are far from left with nothing.”

  She shook her head, struggling to explain. “But Thomas has his veterinarian practice now and I don’t know if I will paint again. I was sure that God was sending me a message and I vowed to never paint again.”

  To her surprise, Sarah let out a laugh. “You were always so dramatic. Do you think God destroyed a whole city because He didn’t want you to paint?”

  Allie had to smile a little. It sounded ridiculous, as if she was the center of the universe. She’d heard it twice now.

  “Allie, if God didn’t want
you to be a painter, then you would not have succeeded. He gave you the desire, and the talent, and the perseverance, and the success. That tells me that God wants you to paint.” Sarah shot her a glance. “No matter what your mother says.”

  “Thomas said something like that.” Allie thought back to their conversation on the porch, how serious he had been when she had said she was not going to paint again. “I suppose I’ve been angry and afraid of making another mistake.”

  “The tragedy was not your doing.” Sarah leaned forward again, speaking earnestly. “I know you’ve been recovering and trying to adjust to coming home to Chicago. But I think it would be good for you to be more active.”

  “Mother will never allow me to take up painting after all of this.”

  Sarah shook her head. “That will come. What I mean is, taking up a cause like fighting the East Tooms railway project. We could use your voice, Allie.”

  “Is it true that the railroad would go through the charity hospital?”

  “And an orphanage and a school. The Ladies’ Auxiliary has been fighting to keep the orphanages small, for the sake of the children. One of them houses nine hundred of the poor dears, if you can believe it! But even though this enormous building would be better as several smaller buildings, homier for the children, it’s horribly irresponsible to tear it down without some sort of plan to build another. The children would just be distributed to other homes, and they’re all overcrowded as it is.”

  “I didn’t know there were so many orphanages. I suppose I’ve been wrapped up in my own world.”

  “There weren’t so many before you left, but now there are almost thirty homes and they’re building more.” Sarah’s gaze rested on her little boys, her eyes dark with sadness. Her oldest son raised his head and grinned, a gap in his front teeth showing clearly, his voice raised in excitement.

  Allie couldn’t imagine Janey in one of those institutions. “Was it the cholera epidemic?”

  “No, most of them have one parent. They’re just too poor to care for them. There aren’t enough well-paying positions. The factories are changing that, but it’s slow. And with the unions fighting with the meat packing industries, the jobs might have a fair wage soon. If they can resist corruption and rioting.”

  Allie choked back a laugh. “Sarah, I’m shocked. When we were young, I remember how we liked to visit the cinema and curl our hair. Now, you’re practically advocating strikes and protests.”

  Sarah chuckled and poured Allie more tea. “The unions can’t be ignored, bad or good. But Nathan made me realize there was more to Chicago than picnics and balls. He told me it was no use to anyone if he used his law degree to protect old money, when there were people who worked twelve hours a day and did not have a clean, warm bed.”

  “That’s what I meant to ask, in the beginning.” Allie felt her cheeks warm and rushed through the words, determined to keep on track this time. “Did you always know you’d marry him?”

  Sarah nodded. “He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. I was absolutely sure.” She took a sip of her tea and threw a calculating glance at Allie. “I know you are proud and independent, but there is nothing wrong with marrying a successful man. Thomas is patient, but I wouldn’t dither, if I were you.”

  She adjusted her skirt and tried to formulate a response. Is that what she’s doing, dithering? Was she throwing away her only chance at love because she was too proud to accept that Thomas was now wealthy and successful, and she was not? Allie hoped that she wasn’t so shallow as that.

  Janey bounded toward her, bright curls barely contained in a wide blue ribbon. The pockets of her pinafore were stuffed to capacity. “Auntie, did you see my treasures? Joshua and Joseph shared their rock collection.” She dug her hands into her pockets and retrieved stones of all shapes and sizes, dropping them onto the creamy white tablecloth.

  Allie leaned forward and examined them closely. She asked a few questions, agreeing the large gray stone with the white stripe all around was the perfect wishing rock.

  “Auntie, did you see the trees?” Janey pointed at the window, her small face alight with excitement.

  She turned and felt a cold dread clutch at her chest. The tree outside was whipping madly in the wind. The sturdy brick home, three stories tall and several large rooms deep, had muffled the sounds of the storm outside. Allie stood up in alarm, motioning to Janey. “It looks like there is bad weather on the way. We had better be going.”

  “Won’t you stay until it passes? We would be glad to have you for dinner. Nathan will be home soon.” Sarah stood, face creased with worry.

  Allie peered out the window at the darkening sky. “It is not too far. These fall storms aren’t as quick as the spring ones. I think there is still time. And I do not want Mama to worry,” she said, ignoring Janey’s protests.

  “As you wish. Let me call the carriage man.” Sarah stepped into the hallway and signaled the maid, who bustled off toward the back of the house.

  “Thank you, Sarah, for the lovely afternoon.” Allie held out her hands. Sarah grasped her fingers and gave her hearty kisses on each cheek.

  “My pleasure. And remember, don’t make him wait on your answer for too long.” Sarah laughed as Allie’s cheeks heated at her words.

  “Better to wait a good while for the right answer, than to have the wrong answer immediately,” she responded, her gaze level. “I don’t intend to make a hasty decision.”

  Sarah nodded, then turned her face to the window as the sound of a strong wind buffeted the house. “And now, you’d better be off before you end up staying for dinner against your will.”

  ****

  “Mr. Bradford, Miss Lloyd here to see you.” Mateo’s low voice carried an undercurrent of something Thomas couldn’t define. He looked up from the hoof he was examining under the light of a lamp and searched Mateo’s face. There was no teasing in his tone.

  “All right. Can you finish this and keep the mare calm until I can check her teeth? This one has never been comfortable around all these horses.”

  Mateo nodded. He spoke to Marco, who scampered forward to hand his uncle an apron. Mateo slipped on the apron and ruffled Marco’s hair with one large hand. He moved to take the pick from Thomas, and as his head bent close, he whispered, “She call you her fiancé. Is that true?”

  Thomas jerked his head up, shooting Mateo a look of alarm. “She did? Those exact words?”

  “Yes, sir. But I think to myself that it is too strange you never mention getting married to Miss Lloyd.” Mateo’s voice was still quiet, subdued.

  Thomas shook his head, trying to clear it. The horses were restless today, with the strong winds outside. He had trouble focusing on his work after the eventful morning at Allie’s, and now this. It was almost laughable.

  “No, Mateo, you’d be one of the first to know.” He clapped the Italian on the shoulder. Brushing off his pants, walking toward the barn entrance. He could see Louise framed in the bright doorway, dust swirling around her. Her dress was starched to perfection and adorned with a multitude of large bows. The bright green color did nothing for her high coloring. Instead she looked as if someone had used the wrong color of paint for her portrait.

  “Miss Lloyd, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He forced his features into a smile.

  “Thomas, I have not heard from you since the picnic.” Her watery blue eyes narrowed in anger and she said the words with such fierce admonishment that Thomas was taken aback.

  “Excuse me, I did not know we had made plans.” Of course they had not. He had studiously avoided Louise for several weeks after the excruciating day of wandering the social with Louise on his arm. But what kind of answer could he give to such her complaint without being accusatory himself?

  “A man of honor would not have made me come all the way out here to this,” she waved a hand at the swirling dust and the shuffling beasts in their stalls, “place just to speak to you.”

  Thomas felt his face go tight. “I was not aware it was
a point of honor. Can you explain to me how this is?”

  “Well, everyone knows the picnic is a formal step. Do not deny you know it to be so!” Her voice rosein pitch and volume.

  “A formal― Miss Lloyd, there was never any understanding between us.” Thomas felt his face go hot. He was not angry so much as uncomfortable with the fact he was forced to reject a woman in the middle of his barn, in front of his workers. He smoothed his vest and brushed a few more pieces of straw from his trousers.

  “So you say now that Miss Hathaway has come back to town.” Her words dripped venom and she took a step forward, gloved hands fisted.

  “I’m sorry that you have been under the misunderstanding that we were more than friends.” Thomas sincerely hated to speak the words. He could have been happy to spend his whole life without ever having to reject a woman. Even a shallow gossip like Louise.

  “So you don’t deny that your change of heart has anything to do with Miss Hathaway?”

  “I do not deny that I love Miss Hathaway.”

  Louise’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.

  “But there was no change of heart required. I have always loved her and I always will.” There. It could not be much clearer.

  “Well, I’m not going to let you forget me so easily. And I am sure that as soon as she is gone, you will come running back to me.” With those words she turned and stomped out of the barn, into the swirling winds.

  Thomas stood for a moment, his mind churning. Was he at fault for this absurd turn of events? This was nothing like his experiences with Allie. They had discussed faith, love, loss, pain, and their futures together. He had never touched Louise, never held her close, never put his lips to hers. How could she ever have imagined they were to be married?

  He slowly walked back through the crowded barn to where Mateo waited with the mare. Marco stood to the side, curiosity etched plainly on his young face.

  “It go not so well?”