All the Blue of Heaven (23 page)

           
“Shouldn’t we have undressed him? Now there is straw all over the room.” His
mother waved her hands at the small specks on the floor.

           
Thomas lifted his head and looked to Dr. Barrows, his voice was ragged with
exhaustion. “Which reminds me, I am sorry about your carriage. Send my maid out
to clean it before you leave.”

           
“Nonsense,” he said, frowning.

           
But Thomas’s mother turned at once and gave the order to one of the maids, who
hurried away to clean the carriage. Then she turned again to Thomas, reaching
out to take one of his hands. “Are you in very much pain?”

           
Thomas wanted to laugh. There was no good answer to that question. If he said
yes, his mother would hover all night. If he said no, then he would be left to
fend for himself.

           
“He has had a terrible blow to the thigh but it seems just a bruise. He will
need a lot of rest, and cold poultices if you can get them.” Dr. Barrows helped
Thomas out of his trousers and took a good look at the leg. He nodded,
gesturing to an area larger than a serving tray, deep purple and hard to the
touch. “A broken bone would be warm and the swelling would not be as localized.
Your son had a very close call.”

           
He wrote quickly on a piece of paper and handed it to Mrs. Bradford. “I am
leaving morphine for the pain, if needed. These are instructions for his care.
I will give them to Mrs. Anderson and she can prepare the first compress. I
will return in the morning to check on the leg.”

           
Thomas began to sit up and thank him but the doctor waved him back down. “Rest
as well as you can. I will see you in the morning after I check on Marco again.
I can show myself out.”

           
Mrs. Bradford rearranged the soft blanket over Thomas and knelt by the edge of
the bed. Her dark eyes were wet with unshed tears. “Oh, Thomas. How did it
happen? You are always so careful.”

           
He turned his head to her and managed a small smile. “I suppose I needed a
reminder to stay out of the way, Mother.”

           
“But were you distracted? Was the horse wild?” She gripped his hand with both
of hers and stroked his fingers.

           
“One of the carriage men was discussing the damage from the storm.” He paused,
listening to the gale winds buffeting the house. He was thankful they had no
large trees very near. Their large plot of land included two good sized
chestnuts, but they were far from the house. “Did you hear the oak went down at
Bellevue?”

           
His mother’s eyes went wide at the news. “That tree must be hundreds of years
old. Mr. Ransom said the other day, when I met him in town, that he wanted to
get a man out to cut off a weak branch.” She shook her head, wisps of dark hair
falling from the soft bun. “He’s one of the best gardeners around. When he says
a tree is ill, it is true.”

           
“They said it went through one of the rooms.” Thomas could say the words now
without fear, even though the pain in his leg was making him breathless.

           
His mother put a hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “Was anyone― Did
they―?”

           
“No one was hurt. But when I heard the news, I turned from the mare I was
checking to listen. She had been skittish in the barn, but the wind made it all
the worse. I wasn’t close enough and brushed her rump.”

           
“Stay close, or stay back,” his mother said, her lips tugging up at the
corners. “That’s what your Pa always said.”

           
Thomas nodded, his eyes closing for a moment. He did not want to rely on the
morphine but if the cold compress did not provide relief, he would not sleep a
wink tonight.

           
His mother brushed a hand over his hair. “I’ll ask Mrs. Anderson to make hot
broth. You still have to eat.”

           
He listened to the force of the wind outside. A storm this serious in the fall
did not bode well for an easy winter. Allie’s face sprang to mind and he felt a
smile touch his lips, despite the throbbing in his injured leg. It had been
quite a day. Full of some of the best and worst moments.

           
That kiss was definitely one of the best.

Chapter
Fifteen

           Thomas
was ready to go stark raving mad. He had been bored out of his mind for the
past four days and would welcome a visit from Louise Lloyd. On second thought,
he was not quite that desperate. He picked up another book and tried not to
fidget.

            His mother glided into
the sitting room, her face a mask of careful politeness. “Miss Hathaway is here
to see you, Thomas.”

           
Thomas sat up immediately and closed his book with a snap. He felt a smile spread
over his face and worked to appear as normal as possible.

           
Allie stepped in behind his mother and seemed to bring the sun with her. Her
hair waved gently around her ears and as she removed her hat, she ran a gloved
hand over the light brown curls. The weather had turned chilly and her cheeks
were slightly flushed, a perfect match to the pale pink dress that draped her
frame. He couldn’t help for one moment remembering how she felt in his arms,
soft and warm.

           
“Mr. Bradford, I brought you a few cookies from Mrs. Gibson,” Allie said,
coming to stand near the foot of the couch. Her eyes swept up and down the
length of his leg, which was wrapped and rested on the cushions.

           
“If I had known Mrs. Gibson would send cookies, I would have made sure to be
injured more often.” He reached out to take the basket from her hands and gave
her a wink. He almost laughed out loud at how quickly her cheeks turned a
deeper pink. Allie was a strong, independent woman who blushed like a girl and
he loved it.

           
A maid brought over a chair for Allie and she thanked her with a smile, then
perched on the edge. His mother settled on the chair near him and took up her
needlework. She glanced once at Allie and smiled, then proceeded to give them
as much privacy as she could muster.
        

           
“I heard the East Tooms Railway project has been put on hold. The mayor says he
will review the plans because of the protests over the destruction of the
neighborhood.”

           
Thomas nodded, running a hand through his hair. “It was never sure, but I am
glad the mayor has seen the tragedy it would have been for the poor who live
there. The plans can be changed, revised. I am confident we can find a solution
that everyone is happy with.”

           
“Are you in very much pain?” Allie reached out to touch his shoulder very
gently.

           
Again, the question of pain. He wanted to lie and say he was fine, but the
recovery was very slow. At least he had finally been allowed out of his room. He
was very thankful to hear that Marco had recovered much faster. “Only when I
put any weight on it. God is good. The injury could have been much worse, even
fatal. I hope to return to the barn next week, even if it is with a cane.”

           
Allie nodded, her bright eyes serious. “I know from experience that if you
attempt too much too quickly, the recovery will be longer. So be quite sure
before you return, that you are not doing damage to your leg.”

           
“I agree. And the men who work for me are very competent. Any questions they
have, they run over by messenger. But it is strange to examine a horse at a
distance.”

           
She laughed, a soft sound that made a warmth spread through his chest. How he
wished he could bring her down to him, wrap his arms around her. Thomas looked
at the basket of cookies and tried to focus. He promised her time, and the last
thing he wanted to do was force
her.        

                                   
****

           
Allie’s gaze swept Thomas’s pale face. His dear features were so familiar, but
the suffering had marked him with subtle shadows around the eyes, a certain
tightening of the mouth. She struggled not to stare at the leg, wrapped and
supported on cushions. Was it really just a bruise? Dr. Barrows was more than
competent but it was nearly impossible to know for sure. There might be a
slight break, or an injury to the muscle that would only grow worse with time.
Allie felt her chest squeeze tight with the image of Thomas, strong and vital,
reduced to a cripple, watching life from a settee.

           
“I’m sure you will be back to work in no time at all. Janey sends her love. She
was very adamant that I give you this.” Allie handed over a small piece of
sketching paper. Janey’s bright smile shone, her eyes seemed to twinkle
straight out of the charcoal lines. “She went into my attic studio,
commandeered some paper and charcoal stubs, and demanded I draw her likeness.
She said it was the only thing that would you cheer you up.”

           
Thomas examined the little face, his smile holding something she couldn’t quite
place. Finally he said, “She was right.”

           
Allie wished for just a moment that Janey was wrong, that Allie’s visit would
also have cheered him, but she knew how he felt. Something about that little
girl’s absolute confidence in herself was better than anything. She couldn’t
help grinning at the memory of being commanded so severely. And the feeling of
the pencil in her fingers, the quick movements of her hand, and the light dusting
of charcoal was like a tonic. After she was finished, Janey was thrilled and
Allie felt as if a wound had been bound up.

           
“How is the oak?”

           
“Mr. Ransom brought out an arborist but it can’t be saved. The roof will be
fine, though.”

           
“Which is important, I suppose.” His tone was even but his lips twitched.

           
“So everyone says.” Allie tried not to laugh. Returning from lunch with Sarah
and discovering an enormous tree limb had crashed through her bedroom wasn’t
anything to chuckle about. But it was just a room, and the oak was...
irreplaceable. “Perhaps it’s for the best.”

           
She saw his brows jerk up in surprise. “How so?”

           
She regarded her hands for a moment. “I was praying.” She felt her face flush a
little but hurried on. “For you and the people I left back in San Francisco. So
much pain and tragedy, but it’s different when you’re not alone. When you can
rest in the truth that in spite of it all, there is a plan to prosper you. It
suddenly seemed to me that the oak was a sort of symbol.” She glanced up at
him, gauging his response.

           
Thomas said nothing and waited, listening.

           
“The oak, it’s hard to explain what it means to me, what it
meant
to
find your treasures in it... But now it’s gone. And it doesn’t mean that there
won’t be more blessings in the future. Just different ones.”

           
“For everything a time and purpose under heaven,” Thomas said, nodding.

           
“That’s right.” She looked at him, her gaze earnest.

           
“You have some peace now, about the fire?” He asked her very softly, as if
saying the words too loudly might break the spell.

           
“I do.” She let the words out in a rush, a smile spreading over her face. “I’m
still sad, still a little angry. I’m not sure what this means for me right now,
for my painting. But what I said, about marrying and getting on with life, I
see that’s not the right path for me.”

           
She stopped speaking as her throat constricted. How many months had she been
convincing herself she had to find a husband to support her and Janey? How long
had she tried to conceal her weaknesses because she was afraid?  She had
pushed away the One who could give her strength and relied on the one who could
offer nothing but uncertainty. She glanced up at him, blinking back the tears,
and saw mirrors to her own. His dark eyes were soft with awe. He opened his
mouth, but seemed to be lost for words. His mother looked up at them, then
stood with one movement.

           
“Thomas needs his rest. I’m sure you understand.”

           
Allie got to her feet, letting go of Thomas’s hand. His mother must think she
only came to disturb his peace. Why hadn’t she kept to polite conversation? The
poor man was struggling with his own trials. He didn’t need to hear about her
change of heart, her uncertainty. The look on his face said it all. The
conversation had been too much. She  should have left it for another time. She
smiled softly at him and said, “Get better very soon and you both must come to
dinner on Sunday”

           
His mother inclined her head, eyes still wary. “Thank you. We will come if
Thomas is better.”

           
Allie swiftly left the room, following the maid to the door.

             
                          ****

           
“Mother, she didn’t do anything to upset me. It was wonderful news, actually”

           
She laid a hand on his forehead. “Was it? Strange how that girl seems to bring
you to tears more often than not.”

           
He couldn’t keep back a laugh, shaking his head. “It might seem like that, but
she was telling me that she is at peace, she is finished arguing with God.”

           
His mother rolled her eyes. “Arguing with God? Good heavens. I suppose you
can’t say the girl doesn’t have pluck.”

           
            
                      ****

           
“We had a lovely dinner, thank you,” Mrs. Bradford said, allowing Mary to help her
into the fur-trimmed black coat by.

           
“We were very pleased to have you. You and Thomas must come again.” Mrs. Leeds
inclined her head, silver broach sparkling at her throat. Allie wondered if she
had taken extra care dressing for dinner. Thomas was a regular guest over the
years, but his mother had never accepted an invitation until now. The two women
had been wary, but polite.

           
Thomas was too sore to attend dinner the Sunday directly after the accident,
but no more than a week had gone by before they both had accepted. He still
struggled to walk, even leaning heavily on his cane, but the roast chicken was
delicious and the conversation was inspiring. Janey had been taken to bed
directly after the desert, with just a slight protest, and a few too many hugs
for Thomas.

           
“I brought you something,” Thomas said softly.

           
 Allie glanced at Thomas’s face, then her eyes skimmed down his fine suit,
taking in his cane and hat. “I can’t imagine what it is. Have you had it in
your pocket all the way through dinner?”

           
Thomas laughed, a sound that made Allie’s heart lose its rhythm. “Not in my
pocket, no. I left it with Mrs. Gibson.”

           
Allie shot him a quizzical look. “Should I go see it now?”

           
“No, better to wait until later. After your mother has gone to bed.”

           
Her eyebrows rose higher with those words but she kept her tone light. “How
very odd. My curiosity is piqued.”

           
“Just remember all the time I was forced to stay off this leg,” he said, his
lips quirked up in the half smile that always made her think he was up to no
good.

           
“My imagination is running away with me.” She couldn’t help laughing a little.
It was like being teased on Christmas with a pretty present that made odd
rattling noises.

           
“Thomas, dear, the wind is growing fierce. We should hurry home.” His mother
watched them with a careful eye, but if Allie wasn’t mistaken, she had warmed
up to Allie since the last time they had spoken. Allie hoped that they could be
friends, whatever happened. Mrs. Bradford was a strong woman who loved her son,
and was proud of him. Allie wished she had made her mother as proud.

           
He shrugged into his coat and reached for his hat. “I hope you like it,” he
said, his eyes suddenly serious.

           
Mrs. Gibson showed them out and Allie heard the sound of Thomas’s automobile
starting in the driveway.

           
“It is so odd for a veterinarian to drive an automobile,” her mother mused. “And
I cannot keep my eyes open another minute” She reached out to give Allie a kiss
on the cheek, then paused to fix a glance on her face. “That went well, I
believe.”

           
Allie knew what her mother was saying and she almost grinned. In just a few words
she was hinting at a future connected to the Bradfords. “Yes, I think it did.”

           
As soon as her mother disappeared upstairs, Allie headed for the kitchen.

           
“Mr. Bradford left this for you, dear.” Mrs. Gibson pointed to a large square
object leaning against the far wall.

           
Allie knew immediately it was a painting and her heart sank. Did he find one of
her portraits and buy it from the owner? He might think she could sell it and
use the money. But she didn’t think she could face her work from that time in
her life, no matter how striking. Her whole life had changed;
she
had
changed. When the day came― and it was coming soon― that she was
able to pour her heart out onto a canvas, she was sure it would not be to paint
some spoiled socialite’s portrait.

           
Thoroughly confused, Allie crossed to the painting and picked it up with
unsteady hands. What met her gaze caused her heart to swell in her chest.
Janey’s painting, framed in warm oak, brightened the kitchen like a ray of
sunlight.

           
“Well, isn’t that pretty! And such a nice frame.” Mrs. Gibson moved to stand
over Allies shoulder, admiring the gift. “There’s a note that goes with it.”

           
Allie turned and took the slip of paper. Her fingers trembled but she didn’t
try to hide it.

           
Dear Allie,

              
I asked Mr. Ransom for a bit of the old oak. I thought it would make a fitting
frame for Janey’s family portrait.

With Love,

   Thomas