All the Blue of Heaven (19 page)

           
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.

           
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.