Chapter six: the painter's link


March 17th, 1930


Blue skies, Kate warbled rather loudly and slightly off-key as she trudged up the familiar walk she'd been absent from for almost three months. Oh, how she missed England! smiling at me. Nothing but blue skies, do I see!

The sound of a car rumbling up the drive behind her caused her to step off the path to allow the car to pass by. She smiled and continued warbling the Irving Berlin song, carefully carting her three carpetbags. Fortunately, they weren't too heavy and the cottage wasn't too far away from the road.

The car braked and the engine stopped. "Kate?" She turned to see that it was Thomas driving the car. She smiled fondly at him as he hopped out of the car and hurried towards her. The man cut a dashing and intimidating figure. His hair was disheveled from the wind, which had blown it all about his face. "What are you doing walking out here with all those bags?"

"And the Top 'o the morning', to you as well Mr. Shelby." Kate stated in a deliberately bad Irish accent. Judging from the expression on his face, she sounded exceptionally terrible. "Sorry, my Irish and English accents are terrible."

"Yeah, you'd have been hung in Birmingham." He reached for her bags. "Come on. I'll give you a lift."

"Oh please don't bother; I'd really love to walk." He ignored her and grabbed her bags, causing her to frown as he threw them in the back seat. "Mr. Shelby, I've been trapped on a boat for almost a week. I'm tired, I want is to do is rest and have a cup of tea."

"It's tea time now." He stated. "Join me at the house and I'll have someone deliver your bags for you."

"You mentioned tea?" He nodded. "Then how can I refuse?"

"You can't." He opened the door and helped her into her seat.

"Thank you." She stilled, when he didn't let go of her hand right away. "What is it?"

"Your hands are cold. Why aren't you wearing gloves?"

"Uh, I left them in the taxi." She stated. "I'm always forgetting my gloves."

"I see. I put the gloves you left in my car on the table in the cottage" The man didn't really like to talk much, but today, he appeared to want to talk, which was an interesting change. He released her hand and closed the door. "How was your visit to America?" He inquired as he walked around to the front of the car to get in.

"Well, my grandfather passed away, but it was a peaceful death."

"My condolences." He stated as he slammed his car door shut and started the engine. "You can put your hands in my pocket, if they're cold."

"Thank you." Kate rubbed her hands before sliding one into his pocket and sitting on the other. She felt like Scarlett O' Hara dipping her hands into Frank Kennedy's pockets. However, unlike Scarlett, she had no ulterior motive.

They rose in silence and Thomas didn't attempt to make any conversation, for that, she was grateful. She enjoyed his presence; the man had a still calmness that was almost refreshing at times. There was also a compelling darkness to him that she found interesting; she suspected that he had mob ties, but he wouldn't get in too deep because he had a family to protect.

As they drove up the walk, Kate couldn't help but smile. She missed this place so much. It had rained recently, she could tell that right off. The air was alive with the smell of wet grass, oak leaves, wet stone and budding wildflowers. It was a scent she'd missed in Arizona and the heat hadn't been appealing to her at all. Her complexion had gotten darker within that month she'd spent there.

By the time they came into full view of the estate, Kate was almost grinning to beat the band. Thomas let out a sound, causing her to glance at him. Her glance revealed that he was semi-smiling at her. " Is it obvious that I've missed England?"

"Yes." He braked the car in front of the door and hopped out. Kate reached for the handle, causing him to bark at her. "Don't you dare."

"Or what?" She answered back saucily. His brow rose, suggesting that she wouldn't like it. She laughed at his expression. "Sorry, I've been in America. They're very uncivilized there. I had a man hit me in the face with the hotel door once because he wasn't holding it open for me!"

"Well, you're back in England and here," he opened the car door for her and helped her alight. "we help ladies out of the cars and we don't slam doors in their face."

"Well, your mother raised you well." She felt it, the faint wobble in his hand. She glanced at his face and stated. "Correction. Polly raised you well, didn't she?"

"And what makes you think that?" He inquires casually.

"Well, the look on your face for one," he continued helping her up the stairs. "and Polly's… protective nature the last time we met." He shook out his head, a small smile on his face. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"You are." He opened the front door for her and led her to pass before him.

"Thank you." She exhaled and removed her black hat with green band on it. St the curious look on his face with the green, since she should be in mourning, she stated. "It's Saint Patrick's day; I had to wear something green."

"I didn't say anything." He stated.

"No, but your eyes did. It's like I'm getting stabbed in the back by those eyes of yours!" She exhaled as she removed her black coat, to reveal a deep green dress underneath. "One of these days, I shall have to get a tour of this place. It's a spectacular estate."

"Take a look around," he stated as he had his overcoat over to his butler. "be my guest. I've got to take care of something first and then I'll join you."

"Alright. Oh," she turned to the butler. "what's your name?"

He looked rather surprised at her inquiry, but answered. "Elton Cole, ma'am."

"Ok, Mr. Elton, there's a blue and red carpetbag in the car, with a red handle. Could you please bring it inside for me?"

"Of course. Where shall I put it?"

"Mr. Shelby would know better than I." She turns to Thomas. "I brought everyone Christmas presents."

He looks surprised. "You actually bought them presents?" She nods. "Then, to the parlor."

"Thank you Sir."

"Also inform the children that we have a guest." He turned to address her. "Continue with your tour Kate. I'll join you shortly."

Kate walked down the long haul, past the few rooms she'd already peered into. The first room she peered into was the magnificent dining hall. However, it was the portrait over the head of the table that caused her to freeze in the doorway and gasp in shock. It was if a bucket of cold water had been thrown in her face. It was in that moment she realized where she'd met Thomas Shelby before!

The portrait, over the head of the table was an oil painting of Thomas Shelby with Aspen. She didn't recognize him right away because he had a lighter, happier expression and air about him. now, he seemed a little more tired and darker than he was now. However, of course, the years hadn't been exceptionally kind to him; he'd lost people he cared about in those years. She still felt like a prized idiot for not recognizing him sooner!

She shook her head in bafflement. 10 years, it had been 10 years since they'd met. Moreover, it was no wonder that he hadn't recognized her. The years hadn't been good to her either. She wore her hair back in a severe bun and when he'd seen her, her hair had been down around her face! She shook her head in sheer wonder as she stepped into the room, her eyes watering in sheer amazement of this whole thing and the whole thing came rushing back to her as if it were yesterday.


Ten years ago

She'd been running for hours and it didn't seem as if she'd ever stop running. She was sick, sick of her life and sick of living. She wanted out. She flung off her feathered green hat into the mud. Her gloves and various pieces of jewelry followed suit as well. Whoever found her jewelry would be one lucky person.

She leaned against a wall, gasping for air. Her lungs burned and it was freezing cold outside, in addition to the pouring rain. The rain suited her purpose; no one could see she'd been crying. She inhaled and closed her eyes, wishing that the pain she'd felt deep inside her would stop.

The sound of sloshing footsteps caused her to jump. Her bodyguards might have found her again! She turned and continued down the cobblestone patch. Noticing a stable, she turned and headed in. she hurried to hide behind a wagon, which was next to a mound of hay. She ducked behind it and covered her mouth. If she were lucky, they'd run right on by her.

"Curly, tell me." The man had a non-Russian accent, causing her to exhale in relief. She'd really escaped her guards this time.

"It's a curse, Tom." The man explained. However, his definition of a cruse caused her to frown."

"Curly, Curly," the man, Tom, shushed Curly, trying to calm him down. The man had a soothing tone to him. "Curly, Curly. Tell me. Tell me, Curly. What's wrong with the horse?" her ears perked up now. She loved horses; her mother had taught her everything to know about horses. She knew things most people didn't know about horses.

"You bought her at the fair in bad feeling. The Lees put a bad seed in the hoof." She rolled her eyes. People were still superstitious down here about such things. "Got an old woman to put a spell."

All is silent for a moment, before Tom spoke again. "So…those Lee bastards cursed her?" She peeked up over the haystack cautiously. She could hear in the man's voice that he loved horses and he didn't want the horse hurt.

"Whatever it is," the third man says, as he finally stood up from his bench. She couldn't believe that he really hadn't heard her come in the stable. "he says its spread to the other feet."

Tom was slowly running his hands through his hair, trying to absorb all the information. "It's going to his heart by tomorrow, I'd say." Curly's voice rose. "Seen curses like this twice. Can't take them back, Tom. No."

"I told you, Tommy." The third man said. "Better enemies to have than black-blood Gypsies."

Tommy stopped running his hand through his hair and straightened up, exhaling. "Get out."

The other man was silent for a while before walking to her hiding spot. "Get out, Curly." He snapped at the other man who scurried to do as he ordered.

It was silent for a moment, before she heard a gun being cocked. She peered over the hay to see Tommy pointing a gun at the horse's head!

"Stop!" She screamed, causing all the men to whip around. "Wait! Don't!" she kept her hands up above her head as she hurried towards the horse. "Please, let me see him!"

"Who the hell are you?" the third man demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm nobody." She stated bluntly, as Tommy lowered his gun. "I was just passing through and I was waiting for the rain to stop."

"He's been cursed!" one of the man claimed. "The infection will go to his heart. He won't make it."

She stepped closer to the men. "My mother was a horse doctor; she taught me everything I know. I can help." She pushed past Tommy towards the horse. She petted the horse's nose, marking his eyes, noting he was calm. She ran her hand down the leg, nearly gagging at the smell of the horse's hoof. Yes, the tissue of the foot was starting to turn black, but he had a good chance. She spun around and stated. "I need water, bandages, iodine and honey. Also, clear out all of this straw in here, immediately."

"It can't be cured." Curly stated.

"I have seen this before and I've yet to see a horse die from the cure." All the men stood there, debating. "There is still time to save him, but we must move quickly."

"Why should I trust you?" Tommy finally spoke, his cold blue eyes studying her. "You look like a mad woman come off the streets."

"Possibly one of the better dressed mad women you've seen, I'll wager." His brow rose disapprovingly, but she held his gaze. "He's a beautiful horse, and I know you don't want to see him suffer. I can cure him."

"Curly is one of the best men I know when it comes to horses. You just came in off the street." He studied her before asking. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm willing to make a bargain on his life." She held the man's cold gaze, unflinching. "If he's still standing by tomorrow, you'll know I'm right and the cure worked."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then you can shoot me with the same gun you use to shoot the horse." While the men were shocked, she was hoping that this man was cold hearted enough to honor her request.

His eyes narrowed. "You're that sure?"

"No one's sure in this hell we're living. I just stopped caring about living years ago." She held his gaze. "I don't mind dying knowing that I tried to save the life of a beautiful horse."

He was silent for a bit before stating. "We'll give it a try."

She turned and grabbed a rake and started shoveling away the straw. The men looked oddly at her, but said nothing. Curly helped her shovel the straw while the other man collected the items. Tommy, stood there and surveyed everyone she wasn't sure who he was, but he was a boss man. That much was obvious.

She sang, quietly chanting to calm and soothe the horse down. The horse was jittery as she cleaned out the hoof, using water first. "What's his name?" she questioned.

"Don't have one yet." He and Curly watched her as she carefully removed the blackened tissue, which flaked away under the careful touch.

Then, she soaked the sponge in iodine and looked up at him. "Hold onto his head, he isn't going to like this." he nodded and she quickly placed the sponge on the hoof, instantly causing the horse to let out a high-pitched neigh in pain and dance around the stable. She remained calm, somehow maintaining a grip on the hoof, moving with him as she waited for him to stop dancing around. She then wiped every inch of the hoof with iodine.

"Honey and bandages." She ordered. He then watched as she rubbed honey over every crevice of the hoof. She then bandaged the hoof tightly, before releasing the horse's leg. She patted his neck, crooning something gently. "Leave the hoof down, so the blood will circulate." She yawned and went to sit down on the bench. "I'll stay here until the morning."

"It's not right for a lady to be here by herself."

"A lady wouldn't be out in this dark part of town," she stated pointedly. "I came down here to be alone and instead, met you three." She yawned and propped her feet up on the bench, lay down and closed her eyes. "I doubt anything's going to happen to me tonight. If anything did, I wouldn't care."

"You don't value your life."

"A sound observation." She stated bitterly as before yawning. "I'm actually hoping that this treatment fails and you shoot me."

"I wouldn't shoot you."

"Pity." She shifted around a bit. "The way my life is going…it won't take long for me to die."

"Never discount your life." he stated quietly. "Giving up may free you, but it brings hell to those who knew you." she bit her lip and clenched her fist. "I think I know you." her eyes flew open. "I've seen your kind. You lost someone…and now you think your life is over." Her heart flew up into her chest. How could he have made such an observation? "Whoever you lost…what do you think he'd say?"

She turned onto her side, keeping her back to the man. She bit her lip. He was right, even though she'd never admit it. Emmett wouldn't have wanted her to die. But she didn't want to live in a world without him a moment longer.