Heart of Glass

by Jill Marie Landis

  The memory of the orphan asylum in New Orleans came back with a fierce swiftness — the sound of children who had lost their mothers crying themselves to sleep at night; her confusion over wondering where her older sisters had been taken. Kate had even begged the plump woman in the ruffled poke bonnet and the older gentleman who had adopted Sarah to take them both.

  She could only imagine how she must have looked with her round, frightened eyes misting behind the new spectacles the nuns had given her, pleading with the strangers to take her too. She swore to them she barely ate anything and promised she would give them no trouble if they would just please take her with Sarah.

  But Sarah went off alone and Kate was there for months until the Keenes adopted her. Gil and Nola were not loving parents, but they made certain she had a roof over her head and everything money could buy. They had kept her safe and saw to her future, and for that she would be forever grateful.

  A motherless child was a crime against humanity. Never, ever would she submit Marie and Damian to an orphanage, never would she turn her back on them. But to agree to Amelie’s plea was an admission of defeat. She couldn’t do it.

  Amelie’s warm hand closed around Kate’s.

  “Please, Kate. You’re breaking my heart. I need you to promise to do this for me. It’s the only thing I need or want. Please.”

  Amelie started crying such deep, wracking sobs that Kate wrapped her arms around her.

  “Hush, now. I’m so sorry.” She held her for a moment and then settled her friend against the pillows. “If what you want is a promise that I will care for your children, of course, I give it gladly. But someday we’ll both be old women together and the children will be grown with families of their own. You’ll see.”

  Amelie managed a weak smile.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she wiped away tears.

  Kate, distracted by movement in the doorway, looked up expecting to see Eugenie with another dose of medicine. Instead, she was shocked at the sight of Colin leaning against the door frame.

  Seeing him there was exactly what she wanted, but the cost had been dear. His face was drained of color, his brow glistened with perspiration. His pain was mirrored in his dark eyes. White knuckled, he clutched his cane in one hand. In the other, he carried a book. He fought to stand tall, to hide his agony, and he even attempted a slow smile for Amelie.

  Kate was tempted to rush to his aid and usher him to a chair, but stayed where she was to avoid causing him any embarrassment.

  How much had he heard?

  When Amelie saw him, she gasped and clutched Kate’s hand.

  “Colin—”

  At the rasp of his sister’s voice, he stepped into the room and limped closer to the bed. Kate got to her feet and drew a chair over to the bedside. She held it steady as Colin lowered himself into it. When he handed over the book to her, she glanced at the spine: A Pirate’s Tale of the West Indies.

  Completely silent, she hesitated to break the spell as brother and sister studied one another for the first time in over a decade. Stepping into the background of the Delanys’ lives was familiar territory, and yet this time Kate was uncomfortable in her role as silent observer. She started to edge her way around Colin to leave them alone.

  Amelie gave a slight shake of her head and whispered, “Please stay, Kate.”

  Colin barely recognized his sister. How much she must have suffered. It shamed him to think of his own self-pity. Not only was Amelie ravaged by disease, but her hands were cracked and red, her nails uneven and ragged. Signs of time in the sun marred the skin over her thin, pale cheeks. Seeing her this way, he was happy that her husband was already dead.

  “Forgive me, Colin.” Amelie’s hushed whisper dispelled his dark thoughts.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. I wasn’t here to advise you. I wasn’t here to defend you and Mama. I could have come back after our father died, but I chose not to. I could have kept you from running off with that—”

  “Billy Hart is dead. That life is over,” Amelie interrupted.

  “So the children said.”

  He had more than an inkling of exactly how hard her life had been. The plains were wide open, raw and challenging enough without having to eke a living out of the soil. Far hardier souls than Amelie had been broken by the West.

  It was hard to imagine her living on the edge of the rough cow town a few miles outside Fort Dodge. Thanks to the railroad, Dodge grew almost overnight into a watering hole for drifters, cowhands, buffalo hunters, and soldiers. A legendary cemetery was already full of gun-toting braggadocios.

  He took a deep breath, shifted on the hard seat of the chair. His heart ached at the sight of Amelie so wan, so pale. She was far more ill than Kate had let on. No wonder little Marie had been so concerned. No child should have to see her mother ravaged like this. Colin reached for Amelie’s hand. It felt as fragile as a hummingbird’s wing.

  “I’m glad you’re home.” The words, straight from the heart, were out before he knew he was going to utter them. Home.

  From what he knew of Kate Keene now, he was certain she had painted a rosy wash over his circumstances, and for the moment he was relieved. There was no need to make Amelie’s burden any greater.

  Amelie’s breath rattled as she spoke.

  “I’m here for the children’s sake. I want them to grow up at Belle Fleuve … the way we did.” After a fit of coughing through which Colin was forced to sit helplessly, Amelie shook her head and her voice faded. “I didn’t realize those days are gone.”

  She looked at a point over his shoulder before she met his eyes again. “But you are here and, by some miracle, so is Kate. With both of you bringing this place back to life, it will be better than before.”

  So Kate hadn’t told Amelie that he had forbidden her from rescuing the house. She hadn’t confessed that she’d gone against his wishes. Kate had let his sister believe he had a hand in the repairs of the newly cleaned and partially furnished rooms.

  Making his way upstairs a few minutes earlier, he’d been amazed at how much Kate had accomplished in so little time, but the repairs only highlighted how much more needed to be done.

  “How were you injured? How long ago?” Amelie’s voice brought him back.

  He hated talking of that day on the Texas plains, hated remembering what had been done to a band of innocent women and children in the Comanche stronghold. Hated remembering what had happened to him. An arrow had gone through his ankle, clear through the bone and into his horse’s belly. The animal had gone down on top of him, compounding his injuries.

  “I took a Comanche arrow in the ankle.” He shrugged, ashamed of his self-pity in light of what she was suffering through so bravely. “It’s taken quite some time to heal.”

  Amelie looked over his shoulder again and this time said, “Come closer, Kate.”

  Until now, Colin had almost forgotten Kate was still in the room.

  “I should leave, let you get some rest,” he said.

  “Please, stay,” Amelie said. “Help me sit up.”

  Kate stepped forward and helped Amelie.

  Amelie smiled at Colin. “Kate won’t admit how ill I am or that she is powerless to save me. I’ve asked her to raise my children. I want them in your care too, Colin. They are innocent of what I’ve done, of what Billy did. I’m just grateful they are nothing like their Hart kin.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” he promised. Even though he was the children’s uncle, Kate was the obvious choice as guardian. He had nothing of real value to give them, no money to see them through, and his spirit was as damaged as his ankle.

  “Did you know that Kate has always loved you?” Amelie asked him bluntly.

  Kate gasped and cried, “Amelie!”

  Surely his sister was delirious.

  “You know very well it’s true, Kate.” Amelie paused as if to gather strength. “I suspect … that might explain why you never married.”

  Colin looked at Kate. Behind her spe
ctacles, her eyes were wide with shock. He continued to stare — to really look at her for the first time as more than his sister’s friend. Beneath Kate’s expensive, well-tailored outfit, her figure was trim and shapely; her hair was thick, a rich brown shot through with russet highlights; her skin was flawless, her cheeks stained with embarrassment.

  Kate had been here at Belle Fleuve for nearly a month and all he really knew about her was what he’d heard from Eugenie. It was obvious she held Belle Fleuve and his parents’ memories in her heart, but how could anyone possibly love him? Perhaps before the war, but not now.

  Kate was studiously avoiding looking at him. Amelie lifted the family photograph from the bed.

  “Since our Bible cannot be found, both of you must swear on this photograph of Mama and Papa and on their memories that you will marry and care for my children … together.”

  “Amelie, you can’t possibly—” Kate began.

  Colin glanced up again, saw the stubborn line of her jaw and knew she was going to refuse. He’d seen enough of death to know what it looked like. There was little hope for his sister, but Kate refused to see it.

  Amelie was crying as she stared up at him in silent appeal. He had failed her before when he hadn’t come home from the war. He wouldn’t fail her again, not when she needed him. He would do anything to give her peace of mind.

  Without warning, he grabbed Kate’s hand. She tried to pull away but he held tight and forced her hand down to cover the photograph. Slowly her fingers uncurled beneath his until her palm was pressed against the image of his family.

  Shocked into silence, Kate watched Amelie struggle to take a breath. Dumfounded, Kate started to protest, refusing to take any such vow, but then she met Colin’s gaze. Unshed tears welled in his eyes — tears that melted her heart.

  He was doing this insane thing for his sister. How could she refuse?

  “I promise,” she whispered. “I promise to raise Marie and Damian if anything happens to you.”

  Colin took up where she left off. “I promise on our parents’ memories to marry Kate Keene and raise your children as my own.”

  Kate’s hand trembled beneath his. He gave it a slight squeeze. She found him staring into her eyes. A chill seared her and she shivered, afraid that if he could see into her heart he would see the secret she’d kept hidden there all these years. The secret she’d just tried to deny.

  “Promise that you won’t mourn me. Promise you will keep my children safe and happy,” Amelie urged.

  “I promise.” There was no doubting Colin’s sincerity.

  Kate hesitated. She wanted Amelie here.

  “Kate, please,” Amelie urged.

  Kate waffled between anger and the terror of such a loss.

  “I promise,” she whispered.

  Colin lifted his hand and Kate was free. She backed away, and a second later, Eugenie was at the door bearing a tray with a glass of milk. Her surprise at the sight of Colin was evident.

  “I’ll sit with Miss Amelie if you all would like to go on down to the kitchen and have somethin’ to eat.”

  Now that Amelie had extracted their promises, her eyelids were fluttering. Rather than have her fight much-needed sleep, Kate took the photograph from Amelie’s limp fingers and placed it on the bedside table. As she stepped back, Colin reached around her and propped the family portrait against a lamp where Amelie could see it.

  Once they were on the gallery, Kate halted Colin.

  “I need to talk to you.” She was determined not to vent her anger until they were downstairs. The last thing she wanted was for Amelie to overhear what she had to say.

  “I have to get off my ankle.” He made his way to the stairs, leaning heavily on his cane, then stopped and reached for the banister with his free hand. Kate had been too upset to notice his pallor but was quickly reminded of his struggle.

  She took hold of his elbow. He tried to shrug her off.

  “Are we going to stand here playing tug-of-war with your arm, or are you going to let me help you?”

  He stopped tugging and slowly negotiated the stairs, pausing after every step to take his weight off his ankle. When Kate finally let go of his arm, he headed for the front door.

  “Oh no you don’t.” She took hold of him again. He stared at her hand but didn’t pull away. “If you think you’re running back to the garçonnière after what just happened upstairs you are sorely mistaken. Come with me.”

  She expected an argument. Instead, he followed her through the house and the gallery. As soon as they were inside the kitchen, she pulled a chair out from the table for him.

  “Sit.”

  He sat.

  She was too upset to even think of sitting. She paced over to the stove and back to the table.

  “Let’s get one thing clear. I have not always loved you.” That much was true. She hadn’t always loved him. Only since she was twelve or so until she came back to Belle Fleuve. Up until she saw him with the children she certainly hadn’t been pining over him anymore.

  Worried, yes. But still in love? She would never, ever admit it to him. Certainly not now.

  “Surely you know that’s not true,” she added. She watched his hand tighten on his cane. He looked at it for a second before he looked up at her.

  “Of course not,” he said. “What woman could love me now?”

  “Because of your injury? Hogwash.”

  “What matters is Amelie, not the past and certainly not some schoolgirl crush of yours.”

  “What were you thinking, making a promise like that? What made you swear to her that we’d marry?”

  “I was thinking of my sister. No matter what you believe, she is going to die, and I don’t want her any more worried about her children than she already is.”

  “But marriage is impossible.”

  “I agreed to put Amelie’s mind at ease.”

  “She doesn’t need ease. What she needs is hope. She needs to want to live. You’ve made it easier for her to die, Colin.”

  “How dare you, Kate?”

  “I’m sorry.” Seeing his outrage, she was instantly and truly sorry. “I’m just so upset …” She fought back tears and turned away.

  “I know,” he said softly. “We both want what’s best for her.”

  She turned and watched him prop his cane against the table and use both hands to push himself to his feet before he took up the cane again.

  “Is that all? May I leave now?” His eyes were full of pain as he stood tall.

  “Would you like something to eat before you go?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  Colin took a halting step, then put a bit of pressure on his bad leg and nearly crumpled. Kate rushed to his side, slipped beneath his arm, and wrapped her arm around his waist. She felt him tremble and didn’t let go even when he insisted he was fine. With her body pressed along his side, she looked up and found him staring down at her, his face mere inches away from hers.

  “You can let go now,” he told her again.

  She blinked and stepped back, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  “Colin, I’m going into New Orleans tomorrow to find a doctor,” she blurted out. “There has to be someone who can help Amelie.”

  “If it makes you feel better, by all means go. But I hope you don’t regret leaving her now to go off on a fool’s errand.”

  Rather than argue, she added, “There is an architect I wanted to speak to about work.”

  It was time to turn her passion for architecture into a way to make a living. She needed to sit down with her accountant and go over her finances, to make certain there was no way Colin would ever find out she’d paid the back taxes on Belle Fleuve before he found sufficient funds to repay her.

  Colin negotiated the room and had almost reached the door when he turned to her again.

  “Work? How can you think about that now? What about the children?” There was a touch of panic in his eyes.

  “Myra will be here to
care for them. Eugenie will watch over Amelie. I hope you can summon the strength to visit her again.”

  He sighed. “It’s hard.”

  She didn’t know if he meant walking or seeing Amelie so ill.

  “She needs you, Colin. The children need you. I doubt they’ve ever known an honorable man.”

  “What makes you think I’m honorable?”

  Kate adjusted her glasses again. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

  “You are impossible, you know.”

  “So you’ve told me.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “Soon. Day after tomorrow.” She watched him struggle to take a few more steps. “Would you like me to help you walk back? Do you need a dose of laudanum?”

  “No, I dumped it out.”

  She took it as a sign of hope.

  He paused in the doorway and turned to her. “I can get back on my own. And Kate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  For a moment she thought she heard wrong.

  “For what?”

  “For going against my wishes. I’m glad the place was decent enough for Amelie and the children to move into.”

  “I’m right about finding someone to help her too. She’ll recover. You’ll see.”

  Alone on the path to the garçonnière, Colin took his time. Whenever he halted to ease his pain, he studied the garden. Someone had done some weeding since he’d seen it last. A few of his mother’s roses were free of the weeds that had been holding them hostage.

  He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of the river, the soil, the damp, fertile earth of Louisiana. Was there some hope for this place even if there was none left for him?

  The sound of Damian’s laughter floated to him on the breeze off the river. He didn’t hear Marie’s voice; no doubt she was too worried about her mother to laugh. Watching one’s mother waste away was far more worry than a ten-year-old should have to bear.

  Colin imagined that the world the children had known was a far cry from the childhood he and Amelie and Kate had shared. Sheltered and privileged, the three of them had grown up believing they were entitled to everything.