All the Blue of Heaven (15 page)

           
Thomas released her slowly, words forming on his tongue, but they were words
that had to wait. “Allie,” he said instead, clearing his throat. “I beg your
pardon. You gave me such a fright.” Now that he was sure she was safe and
unharmed, fear gave way to anger. “Did you not hear the engine? What were you
doing in the middle of the lane?”

           
Allie straightened her hat. “I was just crossing,” she pointed to across the
dusty road “because there was no shade.”

           
For the first time Thomas noticed Allie’s flushed cheeks, the damp tendrils
that stuck to her neck and temple. He leaned back and looked more carefully at
her dusty dress, the light blue silk dulled by the swirling dirt. Why was she
not riding home in Bascomb’s carriage on a warm day such as this?

           
He gripped her arm and said through gritted teeth, “That man, did he hurt you?”
The thought of Bascomb touching Allie made his heart pound in fury.

           
“Let me go,” Allie said, her face calm. Her eyes were clear and steady. “The
only man who has touched me without my permission today, has been you.”

           
Her words rocked Thomas back on his heels. He dropped his hand immediately,
heat rushing to his face. “Please forgive me.” The words seemed choked out of
him. What a brute he was showing himself to be. He should return home before he
ruined any chance of winning her heart.

           
To his surprise, her lips quirked up in a grin. “I can take care of myself,
Thomas. And poor Mr. Bascomb had a carriage mishap and is waiting for repairs.”

           
His heart reacted to the sound of his given name, but he worked to keep his expression
neutral. “He allowed you walk home alone?” The man had the manners of a
dockworker.

           
“You could say that.” Again that smile, full of sharp-edged mirth.

           
“Ah. So, poor Mr. Bascomb was abandoned at the first sign of trouble.” Thomas
couldn’t help the grin that was spreading over his face.

           
Allie shrugged lightly and said nothing. Thomas noted the dark circles like
bruises under her eyes, the way she shifted from foot to foot.

           
“Come on up, let’s get you home. I would wager that Mrs. Gibson has been baking
a treat or two during your absence.” He inclined his head toward the automobile
but was taken aback when Allie shook her head.

           
“I will take a few more minutes and visit the pond. I haven’t been out to the
woods since I returned from San Francisco.”

           
Thomas felt the smile die on his lips. The pond, where they had shared their
first kiss years ago. He remembered clearly how his palms were slick with sweat
as he asked her for permission. She had said yes, her voice barely more than
breath. He would never forget the warmth of her lips on his. When he pulled
back to look in her eyes, something in the softness of her gaze answered his
unspoken question and he had cupped the back of her head in his hand, bringing
his lips to hers again. 

           
That second kiss was like the sun rising on a cold morning. He felt warmth
spread through his entire body, down to his fingertips. He had never felt as
alive as in that moment. Had never felt that alive since.

           
Allie turned and stepped onto the grass at the side of the lane. She glanced
back and smiled.

           
“Tell my mother I’ll be there soon,” she called.

           
Thomas struggled to organize the thoughts that rioted within him. She did not
need an escort, this was her own property. His automobile was parked in the
middle of the lane, door ajar. Allie clearly did not mind wandering the woods
alone and had not invited him.
What should I do, Lord?
His heart
responded
with a nudge and Thomas knew he was incapable of getting in
his car and driving to Bellevue, while Allie sat at the pond, maybe in the
exact same spot he had fallen in love with her. He had to take a chance.

                       
Chapter Eleven

           
Thomas slammed the car door and trotted to catch up as Allie slipped through
the trees, stepping gingerly on the overgrown path.

           
“Do you mind if I accompany you? I haven’t been to the pond in years.” He stuck
his hands in his pockets and fixed a bright smile to his face.

           
Allie glanced up in surprise. “If you like. I am sure it is just the
same.”  And then her cheeks filled with color, as if she had only just
realized where it was they were heading. She brought her gaze forward with a
snap and her brows drew down.

           
Thomas pretended not to notice. They walked along the path in silence, a canopy
of branches dappling the shade and sun. The sounds of birds and small animals
lessened as they walked along, not bothering to be careful of twigs and bushes.
Allie limped slightly but said nothing. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could
offer assistance without trespassing on her privacy. She was proud, even
brought low by tragedy.

           
After a few minutes, the path curved around and Allie doggedly pressed through
the narrow space to the edge of the pond. It was a difficult walk and at times
the path was completely overgrown. Thomas offered his hand as they made their
way to the far side. She did not say where she was headed and he did not ask.
It was clear that Allie was determined to visit the spot where his entire life
had changed forever.

           
Thomas felt his pulse jumping and whispered a silent prayer.
I do not
understand why she has come here. Help me to know what You want me to do.

           
And then they rounded the bend of the pond, the clear surface reflecting the
cloudless sky like a mirror. The grassy area underneath the giant pine was
filled with waist-high, late summer grass moving slightly with the breeze.
Thomas’s mind flashed back to that moment so long ago. They had been perched on
a fallen tree and Allie was so close, leaning forward, lips parted. He blinked
and the scene disappeared. Instead, he saw Allie drop to the shady ground with
a wide smile.  She folded her parasol and bent over to yank at the laces
of her boots.

           
“The water looks wonderful, does it not? I’ve been looking forward to it all
day.”

                   
                        ****

           
Allie slipped the laces from the eyelets of her boot and tugged it off. There
was a good rule about walking too far in newly purchased shoes. She wiggled one
foot in the cool grass and worked at her other boot. The past half hour all she
could think of was how heavenly it would be to stick her aching feet into the
cold water of the pond. Even on the hottest days, the underground spring kept
it cool. She succeeded in removing the other boot and slipped off her black
silk stockings that were damp with sweat.

           
She glanced up at Thomas. His face was frozen in shock. She looked back at her
feet, confused. Perhaps it was not attractive to wiggle her bare toes in the
grass, especially as puckered red scars peeped from under the long hem of her
dress. Her ankles had taken the worst of the damage on her legs. She
self-consciously tugged the hem over her feet.

           
“Pardon me. I do not mean to be impolite.” She felt heat creep up her neck and
reached for her silk stockings. “It was the heat and the dust. All I could
think of was putting my feet in the water.”

           
Thomas chuckled and dropped to the ground next to her. “Oh, just your feet
then.”

           
“Well, yes.” She frowned, struggling to catch on to his thoughts. When she did,
her face flamed again and she let out a derisive noise. “I see now. You thought
I intended to take a mid-day swim. I have been living in San Francisco these
past years, not Persia.” She couldn’t keep the scorn from her voice.

           
She stuck both feet into the cold water and barely suppressed a groan. She
would have aches and pains tomorrow, but for this moment, the day’s long walk
was erased in the chill of the pond water. She wrapped her dress around her calves
and leaned back on her hands, gently moving her feet in small circles.

           
Thomas was quiet for a moment, scanning the far edge of the pond. “Allie, I
feel as if I have offended you more times today than I have in our entire
friendship.”

           
The blunt statement caught her off guard. She stared at the water for a moment.
Had he offended her? When he wrapped his arms around her in the lane, she felt
safe, even though her chin was pressed into his shirtfront and the handle of
the parasol was crushed in her fist. The scent of clean linen, strong soap, and
Thomas himself immobilized her. It took several moments before she could force a
sound, to even say his name. She only wanted to be held in his arms forever.

           
Gripping her arm was not as pleasant. Allie understood his dislike for Mr.
Bascomb because she seemed quite unable to spend more than a few hours with the
horrible man, herself. And yes, she had told him to let her go. But it was more
of a reminder that
she
was not the one he wanted to shake.

           
As for the idea that she would strip down to her underthings and swim in the
pond, Allie wanted to roll her eyes and give Thomas a smack on the arm. And she
would if they were ten years younger. Since she was a grown woman, it was more
becoming to use sarcasm, in her opinion.

           
“Mr. Bradford, nothing you have done today has caused me distress,” she said
simply. Her feet moved in lazy circles in the coolness, little ripples of water
lapped the edge of the grass where she sat.

           
She felt Thomas relax beside her. “I am happy to hear it.” And then he plucked
a long piece of grass and stuck it in his mouth.

           
“Except perhaps your driving.”

           
He opened one eye. “My driving is exemplary. Your walking is a danger to the
public.”

            Allie glanced over and
couldn’t suppress the laughter that bubbled up. His hat was pushed back on his
head, dark hair falling over his forehead, face tilted up at the sun, eyes
closed once more. His long legs were stretched out and ankles crossed, as
he leaned back on his elbows. The image was so near to her memories of him that
her heart stuttered. How many hours had they spent talking on late summers
afternoons? She had sketched this exact pose countless times.

           
But now he was changed, ever so slightly, in a hundred different ways. She
peered closer, the artist in her overcoming any inhibitions. His hair was thick
and dark, but more stylish than the short crop he’d worn as a carriage man. His
brow had widened and his jawline had lost any softness he carried through
childhood. Even as a young man he had shaved his whiskers but Allie noted he
now wore the longer sideburns that were in vogue. His lips were full and―
Allie blinked, hurriedly focusing elsewhere on his face.

           
The deep creases near his mouth came directly from his Irish father. Allie
could bring his image to mind in an instant and compare it to the man before
her. The strong jaw, the straight nose, it all was pleasing to the eye. But
there was something else that made Thomas attractive... Allie tilted her head
and pondered his face as the birds flitted in the trees behind them. It was
that bright spark of energy, of vibrant life perhaps. Maybe it was a tenderness
he showed to all things, especially animals. An image rose up of him with the
large black stallion today. His hands were confident but gentle, his movements
smooth and precise. Then again, it might be the way he focused on a person, the
way he listened intently, fully present. Even in silence he seemed to be
speaking. She squinted, as if the exact nature of him would become apparent.
There was one other man she knew like him.

           
“You remind me so much of Matthew,” she said.

           
He looked up at the leaves moving lazily in the breeze. “I was very sorry to
hear of his passing. He was a good friend to me.”

           
“You would have liked Eleanor. They were so happy together, those two. They
loved to walk around the dunes, looking for treasures. Once they found a glass
float the Japanese fisherman use on their nets. It rested on a shelf in the
kitchen and when the early morning light passed through it just right, it made
a rainbow on the wall.” Allie shook her head, trying to clear the image of the
ruined apartment, where the glass ball was surely shattered into a pile of
shards. “And they loved Janey with every beat of their hearts although she
doesn’t even remember them. I will never understand...” Her voice trailed off.
She would never understand why God had to take so much from Janey, from her.

           
The sentence hung in the air between them, unfinished. “She may not remember
them, but their love changed her.” His tone was soft, almost melancholy. “Being
loved changes us.”

           
Allie frowned down at her feet, wiggling her toes under the water. “You say
that like love is a sort of magic or is...” She couldn’t quite grasp the word.

           
“Powerful? Enough to change disaster into blessing?”

           
Allie turned to him, frowning. “Is that the way you feel? I really don’t know
anything that could do
that.”           

           
“True, nothing can. But God is not a thing,” he said, a small crease between
his brows.

           
Allie refocused on her feet. Of course, Thomas would say that God could do
that. But if He could, then why hadn’t He? She was so tired of trying to figure
it all out, to make sense of the tragedy her life had become. “I wish I had
your faith. It would be so much simpler.”

           
“Truly?” Thomas cocked an eyebrow, challenging her.

           
Allie shrugged one shoulder irritably. “Perhaps not. I wish I could just accept
that God doesn’t care for us individually, that He’s high up in heaven, blind
to all our little trials.”

           
“In Isaiah, it says that as a shepherd carries a lamb, God carries us close to
his heart,” he said quietly. There was no argument in his words.

           
Allie said nothing, watching the gnats circle in small groups over the pond.
There were lots of shepherd verses, but she’d never even seen a sheep up close.

           
He continued, eyes focused on the leaves overhead. “And Psalm 139 states that
God’s thoughts toward us are as countless as the sand on the seashore.”

           
Now, she was familiar with sand. Allie tried to imagine grains one by one. But
none of this made her feel better. Actually, she felt a distant ache blooming
in her chest.

           
“As I just said, it would be easier to know God was unaware of our trials.” She
knew her tone was petulant and hated how childish she sounded. But if God was
so close to her, He must not love her very much.

           
“Jeremiah 31 says God loves with an everlasting love.”

           
She turned to him, surprised by his quick answer to her unspoken question. “You
must be spending a lot of time reading the Bible to have these verses handy,”
she said dryly.

           
Thomas grinned, one side of his mouth quirked up in the way that made her heart
react before her head could interfere. “I do, but mostly these are verses that
have helped me in my own times of trial.”

           
Allie felt the conversation was swirling with undercurrents. He was the only
person she could be truly honest with now. But there was an old hurt standing
between them.

           
“I understand,” she said slowly, “that when I left for San Francisco, you felt
like I had broken a promise.” She felt her cheeks grow warm but she forged on.
“But after you left for college, you made it clear that I was not first in your
thoughts.”

           
Thomas bolted upright. “When did I do such a thing?”

           
Allie lifted her chin. There was no reason why she should keep the hurt hidden
any longer. They were many years past the blush of first love. “When you first
moved to Iowa, you wrote me weekly. Then it was less often. Then... then you
mentioned young ladies in your classes as if- as if-” She hated that she was
unable to continue, the old hurt rising up and choking off her words.

           
“Young ladies? There was only one girl in my classes, Sally, and we could not
bear the sight of each other,” he said, tone incredulous.

           
“That was not what I inferred.” She threw the words at him as carelessly as
possible, hoping he would not see how it still caused her intense grief.

           
“Inferred?” Thomas repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he seemed to
reconsider. “I suppose I might have mentioned Sally without making it perfectly
clear that I had no plans to marry her.”

           
Allie stared out at the pond, eyes slitted against the glare on the water.

           
“Also, I may have neglected to write as often as I should have. I was very
busy.” Again, a short pause. He stared down at his hands, running a blade of
grass through his fingers. “I beg your pardon for neglecting you. I never would
have... I should not have left any room for doubt.”

           
His words surprised her and she turned to look into his face. His eyes were
still focused on the grass blade, his face etched with pain.

           
“Thank you.” Allie wasn’t quite sure why her heart was lifting. She hoped it
wasn’t some sort of revenge, bringing to light old grievances. But the sadness
in his eyes was affecting the long-ago hurt. Reminding him of Sally was as if
she had torn off the hard scab of the wound and the memory bled anew. His apology
was like a soothing poultice. Allie felt her bitterness and anger was fading
away. If only she had asked him then, the summer he returned from school.
Instead she pretended that all was well and let the wound fester.