All the Blue of Heaven (24 page)

           
“Well, now, that’s a fine frame. I never knew he was a carpenter, too.” Mrs.
Gibson broke off and reached out to take the painting from Allie.

           
“I didn’t either.” Allie passed the frame to Mrs. Gibson and examined the
paper.
A fitting frame.
Fitting because it was a symbol of their past,
holding Janey’s brightest wish for the future?

           
She pressed one hand to her mouth, struggling to keep her tears in check. Was
it possible? Could they really have a second chance, after all the missteps and
wrong turns?

           
“Now, there, there.” The painting went back to its place by the wall and Mrs.
Gibson enveloped Allie in a warm embrace. The soft scent of rose water only
made Allie cry harder. She didn’t deserve to have Mrs. Gibson or Thomas or even
Mama have such faith in her. She had spent months refusing to speak to God. And
all she had been given in return was blessings, hope, and now love. Thomas was
offering his heart, and himself as a father to Janey.

           
She choked back a hiccup. “I am sorry. It is just― I have done nothing to
earn such a man.”

           
“Oh, dearie,” Mrs. Gibson said, patting Allie’s back and laughing. Her
apron-front smelled like vanilla and gingerbread cookies. “None of us can earn
love, can we now?”

           
Allie took a shuddering breath and stepped back. She scrubbed the tears from
her face with the back of her hand. “You’re right. As always.” She attempted a
watery smile and looked at the note in her hand, a little rumpled from being in
the middle of a tear-filled hug.

           
“So, when do we start planning the wedding?” The cook clapped her hands
together in a business-like manner and looked ready to start that moment.

           
“We haven’t even... I mean to say, there has been no understanding between us.”
Allie felt her cheeks go scarlet but she couldn’t help grinning.

           
“Details, my dear,” Mrs. Gibson said and wrapped Allie in one more hug. “I’m so
happy for you,” she whispered.

           
“So am I.” And for that moment, in the soft arms of her childhood cook, Allie
had never felt more hopeful for the future. The possibilities were endless. She
gave her a final squeeze and stood back. “But this painting is going to have to
stay somewhere until it can find a permanent home.”

           
Mrs. Gibson’s kind face wrinkled with a frown. “Ah, true. Well, let’s leave it
in the pantry for now. We’ll figure something out in the morning.”

           
Allie nodded, and folded the note. She was going to keep the paper close, re
reading and praying over the words.

           
Thank You, for Your faithfulness
. It was a simple prayer. But the words
came from a place inside that Allie had neglected for a very long time.

Chapter
Sixteen

           
“So wonderful to see you back at work, sir,” Mr. Cole said, reaching out a hand
to Thomas. His lined face showed his delight, and Thomas felt the truth of his
words in his handshake.

           
“Good to be back, Mr. Cole.” He stood for a moment near the door of the barn,
surveying the rough wooden floor. The long troughs in the floor had been
recently sluiced with water and fresh straw was scattered around and bundled in
the stalls. The wooden shutters were open to the winter air and Thomas took in
a deep breath. He was meant to be here. He gave a quick prayer of thanks and
limped toward the first stall where Marco and Mateo stood waiting.

           
Mateo looked up from hitching an American Saddle Bred mare to the wall. She
turned her small head and regarded Thomas with large, expressive eyes.

           
“Marco, how are you?” Thomas laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He seemed well,
but that moment before the accident haunted Thomas in the quiet hours of the
night.

           
“I am good, sir.” He looked shyly up at his boss. “Thank you. You save me.”

           
Thomas shook his head, heart dropping. “Oh, Marco. It was my fault. I was
distracted.” It was such a stupid mistake. How could he hope to keep his wits
about him if she accepted his hand?

           
“I am glad you decide to come back,” Mateo said, pretending to grumble as he
collected the brushes and instruments.

           
Thomas grinned. “You didn’t have any fun while I was away?”

           
“Oh, yes, that is what we had. Fun!” He parked his fists on his hips, strong
arms akimbo and glared. “I tell the drivers that you are not here. They say I
can check the horses. So I try.”

           
“And?” He could hardly contain his laughter. Mateo was not a man to be laughed
at, but this display of temper was making Thomas feel better than any of Dr.
Barrows’s medicine. Marco’s eyes were wide as he watched his uncle’s temper
rise.

           
“It seem like every horse heard you were gone. Maybe they have a meeting.
Nobody wants to lift a hoof, nobody wants to open the mouth.” He kicked a clump
of alfalfa and shook his head. “I never had such a long week. And when I see
Cole bring the mayor’s stallion in today, I almost take a day off to be sick.”

           
Thomas’s grin faded away. “Mr. Cole brought in the mayor’s black stallion?
Whatever for?” He searched the barn and sure enough, Cole stood a good distance
from the giant animal.

           
Mateo shrugged. “The mayor give it to Mrs. Leeds. Is a gift.”

           
His mind worked furiously, trying to make sense of the information. “Just a
moment, Mateo.” He gripped his cane and made his way across the barn, pausing
to let the carriage boys by with their piles of saddle blankets. Cole saw him
coming and met him in the middle of the barn.

           
“Mr. Cole, does this horse belong to Mrs. Leeds now?”

           
“Aye, it does.” Cole glanced behind him and pushed his hat back on his head. “I
tried to tell her that he was no good for carriage work. Or for riding. Or for
naught but stud work. But she did not listen.”

           
Thomas stared across the barn. The huge beast lifted his hooves and twitched
his mane. “But why would he give him to Mrs. Leeds?” It really made no sense.

           
“I hear it was Miss Louise that told him so. She had a bad turn with him one
day when she was out riding, and has hated him ever since. She told the mayor
that I could handle him.”

           
Thomas raised his eyebrows at Cole, not wishing to point out the obvious.

           
“I agree, Mr. Bradford, I agree.” Cole rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t
know what made her say that. But that girl is as like to tell a lie as the
truth.” He shot Thomas a sideways glance. “I beg your pardon, sir.”

           
“That’s all right, Cole.” The stallion tugged on his bridle, black eyes rolling
in his head. Why would Louise give the stallion to Mrs. Leeds? It’s not as if
Allie or her mother had ever expressed interest in such a horse. Black
stallions are not high on the wish lists of society ladies. Thomas frowned,
struggling to make the pieces fit together. He suddenly sucked in a breath as
he remembered the one person who did long for such a horse.

           
“Cole, you have to promise me you’ll keep Janey away. Do you understand?” He
tried to keep his voice even but he could feel the words tumble out.

           
“Of course, I would never let her near,” the carriage man said, straightening
his shoulders.

           
“I know you wouldn’t, but see, the girl has always wanted a horse just like
this.”

           
Cole turned and watched the stallion, his face grave. “Well, now, that is good
to know. I will keep a keen eye on her.”

           
Thomas felt the strain in his shoulders ease a bit. “Thank you.”

           
“Not at all. She’s a sweet little thing. Always pestering me for a ride.” Cole
shook his hand a chuckled.

           
Thomas clapped the man on the shoulder and turned back to the row of waiting
animals. His leg was already aching. He didn’t see how he was going to work a
steady ten hours with barely a break. Maybe it was the cold weather. They said
there was a storm coming, although the sky was crystal clear. And after, he
would go to visit Allie. The thought warmed him from the inside out.

           
It was good to be home.  He hobbled to Mateo’s side and held open his
hand.

           
“Let’s get started, my friend. Before the horses decide they have better places
to be.”

           
His assistant dropped a long wooden stethoscope into his boss’s hand and
nodded. “With pleasure.”

                                               
***

           
Allie turned in surprise as Mary ushered Thomas into the sitting room. The
shoulders of his dark wool coat were dotted with snowflakes. She dropped the
sketch book she was holding, and dusted off her hands. “Everyone has gone to
tea with Mrs. Oliver. I was just... I wanted some time alone.” She felt her
cheeks heat at the way his eyes roved over the sketch paper strewn about the
couch, resting for a moment on the dark powder that clung to her fingers.

           
“Mr. Dean wanted to try out my automobile. Half an hour of tutoring and he is
almost ready to buy his own.” He glanced around the room. “I asked him to leave
me here while he took another tour of the neighborhood. My stomach can only
stand so much.”

           
Allie giggled, imaging Sarah’s husband starting and stopping up and down each
street. “Will the snow be any trouble? They say it is going to be our first big
storm.”

           
“I trust he will return very soon.” He cocked his head, gaze fixed on her pages.
“Will your mother be angry if she finds you drawing?” His voice was cool, those
deep brown eyes were soft and warm.

           
“Probably.” Allie didn’t mean to sound rebellious. “But I was wrong―” She
had trouble finding the words. “Wrong to reject a gift.” She shrugged,
wondering if she was making any sense at all. The only thing clear at this
point was that God had given her a talent, and it was a sin to deny it.

           
She was surprised to hear him laugh, a deep chuckle that made something stir
near her heart. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, his eyes bright with joy.

           
She swallowed. “I understand now. There was no success that could make me more
worthy of the gift. And no failure that could take it away.”

           
“What you said to me at the pond, about wearing my wealth like a badge―”
His expression turned somber , but he held her gaze.

           
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

           
“No, you were right. I thought I could make you love me more, if you saw how
much I had earned, how well I was doing. But love doesn’t work that way, does
it?”

           
She shook her head, unable to speak.

           
“True love, the best kind of love, just is. And I was wrong to think you would love
me better for anything as small as money.”

           
Allie’s breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes. He took a step
forward and her feverish mind noted how the snow on his coat had melted into
shimmering droplets.

           
“The only question left, the only one that matters, is if you love
me.”                     

           
“Oh, Thomas.” She wanted to paint him, now, with that look of hope in his eyes.
She reached up a hand to his face. She had never stopped loving him. Rich or
poor, educated or not, a carriage man’s son or a city leader. He was her
Thomas.

           
A pounding at the front door sounded through the long hallway.

           
“Mr. McGovern has come to pay another visit?” Thomas asked.

             Allie
followed him into the hallway, and gasped as Mary opened the door. There stood
a young man with snow covering his bare head, face wild with panic and holding
up a beautiful and very pregnant girl as she slumped against the door frame.

            “Mr. Bradford,” the
young man said in a hoarse croak. “Help us! There is no doctor to be found and
it is time!”

         
After a stunned silence, they both started forward, arms outstretched. “To the
sitting room,” Allie said. The young woman’s breath came as a ragged gasps as
they settled her on the couch.

           
“Miss Hathaway, I am sorry to disturb.” Mateo held his hands out, palms up. “I
knew Mr. Bradford would be able to help. His mother said he come here.”

           
Allie nodded, her mind whirling. “Our doctor is close, just two miles from the
bridge.”

           
“But Nathan has my car and your carriage is out. I will go and fetch him.”
Thomas started for the door. His limp was so pronounced that it made her cringe
to see him struggle to cross the floor.

           
“Mr. Bradford, let Mateo go. Time is of the essence.” She gave him quick
instructions and Mateo was gone before Thomas could argue. The door slammed
shut with a bang.

           
Allie’s hands shook so violently that she had a hard time grasping Josefina’s
skirts.

           
“I’m going to remove your boots,” she said, working to undo the slim laces. She
slipped off one high topped leather boot just in time for another pain to grip
Josefina. She writhed, one foot struck out and caught Allie on the chin.

           
“Ow!” She recoiled, and assessed the damage from a safer position.

           
“Allie?” Thomas peered over Josefina’s twisting form to Allie.

           
“Sure glad I got that boot off before she kicked me,” Allie muttered. She
waited until the pain abated, then grasped Josefina’s left foot. “I’m untying
your other boot,” she called, hoping this would keep her chin from another
bruising blow.

           
A glance at Thomas’s face and Allie wondered silently whether he would
have preferred to run ten miles in pain. A bead of sweat slid down his temple.

           
“As a veterinarian, this should not be too difficult for you,” she said
lightly.

           
His short bark of laughter startled her out of her focused massage. “Right. A
horse in a stable and a young woman―” he spread his hands and gestured
mutely. “―on the couch. But you have experience!” Thomas seemed to grasp
this with all the strength of a drowning man clinging to driftwood. As a fresh
pain gripped the woman, Thomas knelt at Josefina’s head and tried to brush the
hair from her forehead.

           Josefina’s
eyes widened and her body stiffened. She clutched wildly at the pillows, legs
straightening and contracting. Her moans turned to shrieks of pain and fear.
Allie tried to speak to her over the sound of the poor woman’s suffering but
Josefina was deaf to any comfort. Her eyes rolled in her head, desperation
etched so clearly in her face that Allie’s heart twisted.

           
A memory of having her bandages changed flashed into Allie’s mind. One certain
doctor would come to talk to her as the nurses worked. She never remembered a
word he’d spoken; the pain was all-consuming.

           
She waited until the force of the contraction had passed and her screams for
the doctor abated before she grasped Josefina’s hands. “Listen to me! Open your
eyes!”

           
The young woman was drenched in sweat but she pried open her eyes in response.

           
“Women have done this for thousands of years. We are here, Mr. Bradford and I,
to help you. He’s been to medical school. Do you understand?”
It was medical
school for horses, but still.

           
“I need you to take a deep breath. We’re going to move to the bedroom across
the hall.”
Mama will never forgive me for ruining the bedding but I will
never forgive myself if this poor girl has that baby on the settee.

           
Josefina shook her head, moaning. “I cannot. Leave me here.”

           
“I will give you my hands and Mr. Bradford will hold you under the arms. We
will go very slowly.” As if it had been all decided, Allie grasped Josefina’s
hands more firmly and nodded to Thomas. He set his jaw and gently slipped his
arms under Josefina.

           
“Slowly now,” she murmured. If they could just make it before the next pain
hit. Allie mentally gauged the distance and despaired. The pains came so close
together, it was very likely they would have to stop somewhere.

           
Josefina was surprisingly light and she balanced between them on her stocking
feet. A low moan issued from her as she took a step. Thomas carefully guided
her from behind as they moved toward the empty guestroom with a shuffling sort
of dance.