Heart of Glass (18 page)

“The longer I’m here the more the children will come to depend on me. Colin is on his feet now. There’s no need for me to stay.” If she stayed much longer she ran the risk of losing her heart.

“Can’t you see what’s right in front of your face, Katie?”

“What do you mean?”

“You love this place and those poor children. Colin may be on
his feet but he still needs your help. You’ll never know what might be if you run away, Katie. What happened to the girl who walked up to the door o’ that
garçonnière
willing to face whatever she found inside? Where did she go?”

C
olin slowly made his way to the house, eager to find Kate. The small successes of each passing day were bittersweet, for as he gained strength in his injured ankle, Kate’s time here grew shorter.

He wandered through the first-floor rooms in search of her. She’d set up a work table in one of the dining rooms but he rarely found her there. He paused to look at the plans and paperwork spread over the table.

Sitting atop the plans was a wood carving of
Belle Fleuve
no bigger than his palm and carved with intricate detail. Colin marveled at the craftsmanship. When he turned it over, he saw that Simon had carved his name on the bottom in small, even letters. How little he knew about the couple that had served his family all his life. Colin set down the carving and turned his attention to Kate’s plans.

The open drawings were not the ones commissioned by Jamison, but were plans for
Belle Fleuve
. The original section of the house hadn’t been touched, but she’d rearranged a few walls, added closets, and moved the kitchen closer to the main structure. Not only that, but there were two additional bedroom wings added to each side of the house and a twin
garçonnière
placed opposite the one he inhabited.

The pages were filled with well-planned, well-balanced additions and renovations. Kate had done nothing that would change the integrity or feel of the house. The thought and love she had put into each and every line was evident, and her talent was more than impressive.

There were notes from Roger Jamison, but Colin saw no evidence that she’d been working on any new plans, and he suddenly felt guilty for relying on her to spend so much time with the children.

As he was arranging the plans the way she’d left them, his hand grazed the stack of Delany family photographs he’d last seen on Amelie’s bedside table.

He looked through them again, stared at the images of his family, and whispered, “I lost my way, but I promise that I’ll make it up to all of you.”

O
n the opposite side of the house, Kate was waiting for Myra on the lower gallery when she heard her footsteps on the stairs. Kate watched her descend. Her companion was outfitted in a black traveling ensemble and a jaunty black hat with a bobbing peacock feather.

“I can’t believe this day has come,” Kate said.

Simon had already loaded Myra’s bags.

“I’ll write you as soon as I get to Ireland,” Myra promised. “Where should I send the letter?”

“The St. Charles. I can always collect mail there.”

“I’ve been thinkin’ a bit more on your situation,” Myra said.

Kate felt her heart drop to her toes as she waited for what Myra had to say.

“Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of our faces. It took Miss Amelie’s death to make me realize what I truly wanted. Stubborn determination has gotten you this far, Katie. You’ve learned your craft despite the odds, and now you have work as an
architect. You made certain the house was ready to receive Miss Amelie when she needed it, and you’ve gotten Colin back on his feet. Don’t let your stubbornness stand in your way.”

“In the way of what?”

“Don’t spend your life alone.”

“Oh, Myra, it’s not that easy.”

Myra nodded. “Just remember, only you can decide where you belong.”

Kate had no chance to respond before Eugenie joined them. Colin and the children were soon there to bid Myra farewell too. Kate hugged Myra tightly one last time. Simon helped Myra board the wagon as Kate wiped away tears of joy for Myra mingled with tears of sorrow over another parting.

Settled on the wagon seat, Myra smiled through her own tears and waved good-bye.

Kate and the others watched the wagon roll down the drive toward River Road, and when it all but disappeared, Eugenie announced the noon meal was ready. She collected the children and suddenly Kate was alone with Colin.

“Are you all right, Kate?”

“I’ll be fine.”
Someday. Somehow
. She took a deep breath, took off her spectacles, and used the ruffle on the edges of her sleeves to wipe them. “Did you have a successful morning?”

Colin let his gaze wander out over the yard.

“Jason and I interviewed the men who showed up at dawn looking for work. All were experienced cane field hands. We hired six with families. They’ll have a reason to stay and make a life at
Belle Fleuve
. Each family will have their own cabin. The eight single men we also hired will be divided between the remaining two cabins.”

He’d taken on a lot of help and all of them would be banking on a viable crop.

“We believe we’ve hired a good crew,” he went on. “We’ll know soon enough. Tomorrow they start moving in and will have time to plant garden plots behind their cabins. There’s plenty of fish and
game around, and for a time I’ll be able to provide a few staples. We need to get the first crop in the ground by the end of October.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

“I might still be hiding in the
garçonnière
if it weren’t for you.”

She shook her head. “You’d have roused yourself when Amelie arrived regardless of my being here or not.”

He shrugged. “Thanks to you, the house was ready. I hate to admit it, but you and Eugenie may have been right; using my ankle seems to be making it stronger. As long as I don’t overdo.”

“I’m glad.”

“I looked over your plans for
Belle Fleuve
earlier,” Colin said as they lingered.

“You did?” Kate turned in surprise, Myra’s departure momentarily forgotten. She never imagined he’d take an interest. She never imagined he spent any time thinking about her at all.

“They’re wonderful,” he said. “How is your work for Jamison coming along?”

“Not well.” It wasn’t concentration she lacked but inspiration. Her heart wasn’t in the project Jamison had turned over to her.

“You were obviously inspired when you drew the plans for
Belle Fleuve
. I could tell they were a labor of love.”

“It was something I always wanted to do for all of you.”

“Someday I’ll be able to pay you for them, unless your work becomes so famous that I cannot afford to. Rest assured I intend to repay you for the repairs to the house.”

“They were my gift to Amelie and the children.”

“I will repay you regardless.” His tone brooked no argument.

Of course he would insist. He still had his pride. Her conscience nagged her to tell him about the back taxes, but this wasn’t the time to heap more debt on him. Not after he had spent the morning hiring workers who he hoped to pay from the proceeds of a crop that wasn’t even planted yet.

“Shall we go see what Eugenie has for lunch?” he suggested.

“This morning the children learned to make corn pone.”

He shrugged. “I survived the grits and hushpuppies. I guess their corn pone won’t kill me.”

A
fter the noon meal, Kate set up a table for Marie at one end of the second-floor gallery. A slice of sunlight poured across the white sheet of paper on the small table in front of the girl, highlighting her work.

“That’s actually very lovely.” Kate studied Marie’s watercolor. She’d placed a single yellow rose on the table and asked the girl to try to copy it using techniques she’d demonstrated earlier. For a first effort, Marie had done quite well.

“Better than Mama’s beets?”

Kate smoothed her hands over the girl’s dark curls. “Much better.”

“Maybe I’ll give one of my paintings to Uncle Colin.”

“That’s a fine idea. I’m sure he’d like that.”

Marie didn’t look up as she dipped the tip of her brush in clear water and touched it to the page. “May I give this one to Eugenie?”

“Of course. Your work is yours to do with as you wish.”

Marie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “If I had learned before now I could have made something for Myra too.”

Ignoring Myra’s departure was as impossible for Kate as overcoming her recent sadness. Seated in the warm fall sunshine, she tried to convince herself she was more than ready to be on her own. She had done what she came to do. Colin was on his feet and getting stronger every day. The children were adjusting step by step, though Damian needed a firm hand and Marie still dealt with bouts of tears.

Kate leaned back in her chair and studied Marie. The child’s skin was flawless, the tan fading from where she had been exposed to too much relentless prairie sun. Kate would leave a bottle of almond lotion behind and have Eugenie encourage the girl to use it.

“Mama always told us she was your best friend.” Marie set her brush down carefully and folded her hands in her lap.

“That’s right.”

“She said you did everything together when you were girls.”

“We did.”

“Did you ever get into trouble?”

Kate found herself smiling. “Oh, we were in big trouble one time. We tracked Colin and his friends to the swimming hole. By the time we found them, they were already swimming, so we sneaked up and took their clothes.”

Marie’s eyes grew wide as flapjacks. “How did they get home with no clothes?”

“We hid the clothes just a little ways upstream and were long gone before they noticed their things were missing. They hid behind palmetto fronds and wandered around till they found their clothes.”

“What happened then?”

Kate chuckled. “We’d run home and hidden in the stables. Just before dark, Colin flushed us out, which was a good thing, because we were afraid of spending the night out there.”

“Did you get the switch?”

Kate shook her head. “Of course not. It was just a harmless prank. Your grandfather Delany made us apologize and promise not to do it again. The idea of Colin and all his friends parading around naked as Adam except for huge palmetto leaves had Amelie and me laughing so hard that we fell into bed and had to cover our heads with our pillows.”

“Did you stay here a lot?”

“All the time.”

“What about your parents? Didn’t they miss you?”

“Not really. They led very busy lives before they adopted me and afterward as well.”

“What happened to your real parents?”

“They died of yellow fever, one right after the other.”

“Like my daddy and mama. One right after the other. Were you all by yourself then?”

“I had three sisters. All of them were adopted.” At least she hoped so.

Marie’s eyes widened. “You were an orphan too.”

“Just like you. Except that my uncle didn’t keep us. He took me and my little sister to an orphan asylum when he couldn’t afford to feed us.”

Horror filled Marie’s eyes. “He left you at an
orphanage
?”

Too late, Kate realized what she’d just done.

“Yes, but you don’t have to worry. Colin is a fine man. He would never do that to you.
Never
.”

Kate hoped she was right, but what if Colin were to fall on dire straits? What if his crop failed and he was forced to abandon
Belle Fleuve
?

“Besides, if anything ever happened to Colin and for some reason he couldn’t keep you, then I would.”

“You must be very sad without Mama in the world.”

Kate didn’t try to smile or mask her own hurt. “I miss her very much. I know you’re still very sad too.”

Marie nodded and reached for Kate’s hand. “I miss her something awful. But don’t worry, Aunt Kate. We have each other now.”

C
olin walked up the gallery stairs, his progress slow but steady. When he reached the top he saw Kate and Marie sitting in a wide swatch of sunlight at the far end of the porch. Watercolor supplies were crowded together on a small table, but the two ignored them as they sat side by side, Marie holding Kate’s hand tightly. He heard Marie tell Kate, “We have each other now.”

Not for long
.

He wished there was a way to convince Kate to stay.

He would have been content to watch them a while longer, but his ankle hurt. Kate must have sensed his presence for she turned his way. She rose from her chair and smoothed her black skirt.

“Colin.” Kate hurried toward him. “Come see Marie’s painting.”

She led him over to the chair she had vacated, and he lowered himself into it. He noticed the rose in the center of the table. Marie had done a credible job of copying it.

“That’s very good.” He nodded toward the painting.

“Do you know what it is?” His niece waited.

“I believe it’s a yellow rose.”

Marie beamed. “It
is
a rose, Uncle Colin.”

“Of course it is.”

“I was afraid you’d say it was a beet.” Marie laughed.

“Well, it’s not the right color.”

Kate was standing at his shoulder. Even if he hadn’t seen her, he would have felt her presence and welcomed it.

“She’s doing very well for her first day, don’t you think?” Kate asked.

“She is, indeed.”

Marie picked up her brush again and pulled out a clean sheet of paper. She was in the act of rubbing her brush over a slice of green paint when Colin looked back and noted that Kate’s smile was far too tepid.

“Will you be all right with Myra gone?”

“Of course. I’m happy for her. She was excited to be going home to Ireland.” She shrugged. “Who knows, someday I may even visit her.”

“Are you still moving back to New Orleans next week?”

Marie’s hand slipped and the brush tore the page. She knocked over the tall water glass in front of her. Water poured over the edge of the table. The child jumped to her feet, oblivious to the glass when it fell off the table and onto the wooden gallery floor. Thankfully it didn’t break, though it rolled perilously close to the edge of the porch before it stopped.