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.
“Are you leaving?” Marie demanded.
Kate opened her mouth but nothing came out, and she turned to Colin.
“Kate is just moving back to New Orleans. She won’t be far.” His explanation fell short of what the child wanted to hear. Marie looked back and forth between the two of them.
“But you can’t leave. Tell her Uncle Colin. She can’t leave. You aren’t married yet.”
“Marie …” Kate extended a hand toward the girl. “I can explain.”
“You promised Mama. I heard you. I was in the hallway the day you both promised you’d get married and take care of us.”
Colin stared at the girl in shock. She’d heard the promise to Amelie?
“I will take care of you, darling,” Kate said.
“How can you take care of us if you are not even here?” Marie’s breath caught on a sob. “Who will keep Uncle Colin from taking us to the orphanage? How could you lie to Mama like that?”
“What orphanage?” Colin turned to Kate. Her eyes were huge behind her glasses. What had she told Marie?
As Marie started to rush past them, Kate reached for her arm, but Marie shook her off and headed down the stairs. The new shoes Kate bought her beat out a tattoo all the way down. When the girl’s footsteps faded along the lower gallery, Kate turned to question Colin.
“How could you just blurt that out?”
He shrugged. “No matter who told her or when, it all boils down to the same thing: You are leaving.”
“You should have let me explain in my own way.”
As Kate’s gaze drifted toward the river, he stood up. The chair scraped across the floor but she didn’t turn to him. Water was still dripping from the table with soft plops as he crossed the gallery and walked up behind her.
“We did promise, Kate.” Was it so crazy to think they should marry? They would already be sharing the responsibility for the children. She was living in his house. Marriages had been built on far less.
“What are you saying?” As she raised her eyes, he was shocked by an inexplicable urge to kiss her.
“Seeing you sitting here with Marie just now, the two of you with your heads together like that, I’m thinking Amelie might be right.”
“Right?”
“We should get married.”
“You said you wouldn’t hold me to it.”
“I won’t, but why can’t I still try to convince you? What was all that about my taking them to an orphanage?”
“I was hoping to gain her trust, telling her about my childhood. Letting her know that she never has to worry and that she’ll never end up in an orphanage the way I did.”
“I’d say that backfired. You were in an orphanage?”
“I was six when my uncle handed my little sister Sarah and me over to an orphan asylum in New Orleans after our parents died.” She paused. “Surely you knew I was adopted. It was no secret.”
He shook his head. “I don’t recall. What did I care about your life, Kate? You were a child, and I was a carefree, self-centered young man back then.”
Just then they heard footsteps on the stairs again. Marie was dragging Damian by the hand. He had a white rag tied around his head in pirate fashion and dirt stains on his shirtfront. He was carrying a wooden sword but let go the minute he started running headlong at Kate. The sword clattered onto the gallery floor. Damian wrapped his arms around her and hung on tightly.
“You can’t go, Aunt Kate!” His shout was muffled by her clothing. “Don’t leave us! Please, don’t leave us!”
“Do you see, Aunt Kate?” Marie stood away from them, tapping her foot, hands planted on her hips. Her cheeks were flushed and tearstained. “Do you see what you’ve done? You can’t leave us.”
“You were ‘posed to marry Uncle Colin,” Damian cried. “And take care of us forever.”
“What now, Kate?” Colin stared at her over Damian’s head.
“This is hardly fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
She managed to unclamp Damian’s arms from around her waist. She held them tightly and knelt down.
“Listen to me, Damian. Please.”
He tried to twist away and drew back his foot to kick her. Colin shoved his cane in front of the boy’s ankle.
“Gentlemen do not kick,” he warned.
Damian wiped his tears on his shirtsleeve.
“Gentlemen should keep their promises!” Marie shouted. She turned on Kate. “Ladies too!”
Damian howled. “Uncle Colin, don’t let Kate leave!”
Kate’s tone was soft but firm. “Stop it, Damian. Crying isn’t going to help. Stop now.”
He stopped shrieking and started hiccupping a string of sobs. Marie put her arm around his shoulders and stared defiantly at Kate.
“You promised Mama you would stay.”
“Marie,” Colin said, “I’d like to speak to Kate alone. Please take your brother downstairs.”
“Make her stay,” Marie pleaded.
“Go,” Colin ordered.
Marie grabbed Damian’s hand and started toward the stairs to the lower gallery.
“My sword!” He stopped and ran back, grabbed the wooden sword that was nearly as long as he was tall.
“Where did you get that?” Kate’s concern for Damian’s safety took precedence over their conversation. “It doesn’t look safe to me.”
“Simon made it for him,” Colin said. “Damian and I had a talk earlier. He swore a pirate oath not to use it on anyone.”
Marie was still crying, wiping her tears as fast as they fell.
“Go on now,” Colin told them.
Their footsteps echoed against Kate’s heart as they walked away with their heads down and steps heavy. Damian’s sword knocked against every step as it dragged along behind him.
Colin waited until they were out of earshot before speaking. “I’m sorry, Kate. I should have let you tell them.”
The sight of their tearstained faces came back to her with a rush of sadness.
“We did promise Amelie,” Colin reminded her.
“You forced me.”
“Maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. You belong here at Belle Fleuve as much as any of us.” He stepped closer, touching her cheek.
“But …”
“You love the children. You loved my sister. This place is your heart. Even if you don’t love me, perhaps the best thing we could do for them is consider getting married.”
She wanted to tell him that she had loved him when she was a child. She had longed to see him again through all the years of their separation. Since their reunion that day in the garçonnière, her feelings for him may have dimmed due to his attitude toward her, but they had never really faded. Yes, she cared for him. She loved him still, which was why she hesitated to enter into a one-sided marriage.
“Did you know my parents’ marriage was arranged?” Colin was intent on arguing his case. “The Baudiers were bankrupt, and my mother married Patrick Delany to save this place.”
“But they were so in love.” His revelation was shocking. Had Amelie known?
“They grew to love each other very much.”
He was so clos
e that if she stood on tiptoe, their lips would meet. What if? she wondered briefly.
She came to her senses and stepped away. Walking to the gallery railing, Kate drew her arms around herself and stared down the lane bordered by oaks.
Colin walked up beside her. She heard his voice near her ear, felt his warm breath against her cheek as he leaned closer.
“Will you at least consider it, Kate? I’m sure there are worse things than marrying me.”
I’m sure there are worse things than marrying me.
Not exactly the proposal a woman dreams of.
What excuse had Kate made when she left him standing alone on the upper gallery that afternoon? She recalled mumbling something before she ran off.
Marrying Colin Delany had been her lifelong dream. But now?
She was no longer a starry-eyed child. Could she settle for being his wife and hope that love might grow as a by-product of their union? Could she stake her future on the unknown for the sake of Amelie’s children?
Kate slipped a wrapper over her nightdress and went down the hall to tuck in the children for the night. They were seated on the floor shoulder to shoulder. A Pirate’s Tale lay open in Marie’s lap. They both looked up when Kate walked in, but neither of them smiled. They were too young to have eyes so full of worry.
“Time for bed.” Kate kept her tone cheerful.
Marie closed the book. Unsmiling, she got to her feet and pulled Damian up off the floor. She placed the book on her bedside table. Kate turned down the covers on Damian’s bed and then Marie’s. The children knelt on the floor at their bedsides as they did every night. They folded their hands and pressed their foreheads against them.
“God bless Mama and Uncle Colin and Aunt Kate and Myra and Eugenie and Simon,” Marie began.
“God bless Mama’s kin up in heaven and Great-Granddaddy Hart,” Damian added.
“Please don’t let Uncle Colin take us to an orphanage,” Marie finished.
Kate closed her eyes as the children said amen and climbed into their beds. She tucked the covers around Damian.
“Thank you, Aunt Kate,” he whispered. She kissed him on the cheek and then tucked in Marie.
“I hope you both know that your uncle would never take you to an orphanage. Never.”
“We’re sorry, Aunt Kate.” Tears shimmered in Marie’s eyes. “I’m sorry I yelled at you today. I’m sorry I acted so terrible.”
“Me too,” Damian mumbled. “I was scared.”
“I’m still scared,” Marie whispered.
“I am too,” Kate admitted as she lowered herself to the edge of Damian’s bed. He slipped his arm out from under the covers and reached for her hand. Her heart melted.
“What are you scared of?” Marie said. “If you’re afraid of moving to the city, then don’t go.”
The notion of staying here and giving in to her desire frightened her more than moving to New Orleans.
“Sometimes grown-ups get scared when they don’t know what to do,” she said.
“Ask for help when you say your prayers tonight. That’s what Mama always did.” Damian nodded and smiled encouragement.
Kate turned to Marie. “You forgot to mention your father in your prayers.”
“I don’t think Daddy’s in heaven,” Marie said.
“‘Cause he was a gunfighter,” Damian added.
Marie sighed. “No, but now that Mama’s up in heaven, I hope he’s not. He wasn’t nice, Aunt Kate. I don’t want them meeting up again.”
“I see.” Kate pondered a moment. “But bad things don’t happen in heaven.”
“I expect not,” Marie agreed.
“I hope I get to heaven,” Damian said. “At least then I won’t have to worry about getting taken to an orphanage.”
Kate closed her eyes and sighed. “You will never end up in an orphanage. I promise.”
When she opened her eyes, Marie was pinning her with a hard stare. “The way you promised Mama you’d marry Uncle Colin?”
Sleep was out of the question, so Kate returned to her room and closed the window to the cool, dry fall evening. Outside, the river was hidden by the darkness but still flowing toward the gulf, a certainty in an uncertain world. A single light was shining in the garçonnière. Was Colin just as restless? Did he regret proposing?
For the hundredth time that night, Kate weighed her options. She might be in financial straits, but she had talent. She needed to prove it to Roger Jamison. Waiting for inspiration wasn’t going to pay for her lodgings or put food on the table. Inspired or not, she needed to complete the work Jamison assigned. If she chose to stay on at Belle Fleuve, the money she made would help them all.
Colin’s revelation about his parents had been a shock. How long had Patrick and Marie been married before they fell in love? How had Marie ever found the courage to marry a stranger, even to save Belle Fleuve? At least Kate had grown up around Colin and had always loved him.
How could she ever forget the sight of Damian and Marie in tears begging her to stay? How could she dismiss the feel of Damian’s arms wrapped around her in fear and desperation?
Would it be enough, marrying Colin knowing he was doing it only for the children?
If there were some guarantee that they would eventually be half as happy as his parents, it would be worth gambling away the rest of her life.
But there were no guarantees.
She remembered Eugenie’s words. God always sees us through the darkness.
Except for the light shining from the garçonnière, the world beyond her window was dark and silent.
Maybe it was time to trust again.
FOURTEEN
That looks straight to me.” Colin directed work on one of the empty cabins from a tall wingback chair that once graced Nola Keene’s townhouse.
Simon had insisted on bringing a chair out for him, but the elegant wingback looked decidedly ridiculous in the middle of the former slave cabin. What would Nola Keene say if she could see the elegant brocade piece now?
“You mind holding this board for me? I’ll be quick.” Simon pulled out a length of cypress wood and carried it over to the wall where he planned to mount it as the base of the top bunk.
Colin pushed himself up out of the chair, determined to walk across the room without his cane.
“I wish I could do more to help.” He rolled up his shirtsleeves.
“No need to worry none, Mr. Colin. If I need help, I can ask one of the men. Three families are movin’ in right now.”
Simon made a scratch on the wall with a nail and surveyed the frame he had nearly completed. The men Colin had hired were desperate for work and for homes to shelter their families. Jason and Cora were putting their faith into the plan. Hopefully they would all be blessed with fine weather and a good crop.
Simon nailed the top rail to the wall. Colin watched but his mind was on Kate. Was she in shock after his spontaneous proposal yesterday? The possibility that she might accept kept him awake all night. By daybreak he was convinced that it wasn’t such an outlandish notion after all.
There was no reason for her to keep her suite at the St. Charles when she could live and work at Belle Fleuve and have access to the children. Dividing care of the children would free them both to concentrate on their work.
It might prove to be the perfect partnership — if only Kate weren’t inside packing to leave at this very moment.
He was thinking along those lines when he heard footfalls on the wooden porch out front, and suddenly Kate was standing in the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair slipping out of its pins as usual. She squinted into the dim interior of the cabin until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. When she spotted him her complexion deepened.
After a second or two of hesitation she stepped inside and greeted him, then Simon. If she was surprised to see her mother’s chair there she didn’t show it.
“I’m having Simon build four bunks against the walls to leave a bit more room for the men to move aroun
d.” A sudden nervousness surprised him.
“That’s a fine idea.”
“You are the expert. Do you have any other suggestions?”
“Perhaps you should put another window in. Let in more light.”
He nodded. “That’s something to consider. Where do you suggest?”
She studied the interior and pointed out places where Simon could open the wall for a window or two. Then she suggested a series of shelves on the back wall.
“If you have any spare materials,” she added.
“Simon is a magician,” Colin told her. “He’s able to make something out of nothing.”
Simon chuckled but kept working. “Anything around here that has some life left in it, I can make it into something else, that’s for sure.”
Kate clasped her hands and looked everywhere but at Colin. He gestured toward the door.
“Would you like to step outside?”
She nodded. “I’d like to talk to you alone.”
His cane was hanging on the back of the chair. He picked it up and fell behind as he followed her out onto the porch. She looked back.
“Your ankle—”
“A little better every day.” She looked skeptical, so he added, “Honest.”
He was still nervous as they stepped off the low porch and walked to the empty cabin next door. Kate sat down on the edge of the wooden porch. He joined her. They gazed out over the fields rather than at each other.
“I’ve been thinking about our talk yesterday,” he said.
“I had a feeling you’d come to your senses.”
“On the contrary. Ours might be the perfect partnership. The woman who stormed the garçonnière armed with nothing but a roll of plans and the determination to get me on my feet again is not the sort to cling to any romantic notions of hearts and flowers.”
He took her silence as confirmation and went on.
“I like the fact that you are not influenced by such nonsense. A marriage of convenience will stand us both in good stead.”
Kate stared at her folded hands, then let her gaze shift to his bare forearms. With his sleeves rolled up and the faded work trousers he was wearing, he seemed different. Who was this man who had spent the last fifteen years soldiering?
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