“Nothing here but his little piles of dirt,” Marie shook her head. “But at least he’s busy.”
NINETEEN
When the hired hack stopped at the office of Tom Gilmore on Camp Street, home of the Hibernia Bank, Colin stepped out carefully and waited for Jason to join him, then paid the driver. Before Colin took a step toward the front door, Jason stopped him.
“Let’s hope our luck holds today.” Jason centered his tall black hat and gave the top a tap.
“Luck?” Luck hadn’t been a staple in Colin’s life lately.
“The drills are dug, the cane ready to plant. We seem to have hired a good crew of field hands. If our luck holds, we’ll get this loan to tide us over.”
“Sometimes all the luck in the world counts for nothing.”
“Then let’s pray God’s on our side.”
Colin nodded, but God hadn’t been on his side in a long time.
“We missed you at dinner last night,” Jason said.
“I didn’t want to burden your friends.” Colin kept the details of his stroll through the French Quarter to himself.
“Derek filled me in on the men who started Hibernia Bank. Twelve wealthy Irishmen.” He gestured toward the building in front of them. “They started right here in these law offices five years ago. When I mentioned your wife was Gilbert Keene’s daughter, even Derek had heard of him. That should bode well for us.”
Colin tugged on the cuffs of his suit and wished he looked more presentable. Then again, he did look as if he needed a loan. Despite what Jason had said, the last thing Colin wanted to do was capitalize on Kate’s name. Especially since the whole town was convinced he was already living off her charity. He wanted the loan on his own merit.
They walked in, were ushered into a waiting room, and were told that bank president Patrick Irwin was out of town but acting vice president Brandon Hovard would be happy to meet with them.
For Belle Fleuve to survive, Colin would do whatever he had to. He took a deep breath and studied the well-appointed waiting room. The bank seal displayed on the far wall featured a harp, the national symbol of Ireland.
“Wonder who Hibernia is.” Jason, obviously in awe, spoke so softly Colin barely heard him.
“Hibernia was the Roman name for Ireland.”
Just then the connecting door opened, and when Hovard walked in, Colin and Jason stood. Looking dapper in a double-breasted waistcoat beneath a dark brown jacket, knotted tie, and high collar, the man was far younger than Colin expected, but he had a welcoming smile and a way about him that put Colin at ease almost immediately.
“I’m sorry Mr. Irwin is out of town. If you’d prefer to wait until—”
“Not at all,” Colin said. “We’re happy to meet with you in his stead.”
“Then please join me in the office, gentlemen.” Hovard ushered them into the next room and waited until they were both seated before he sat down behind an expansive cherry desk.
“Since I’m originally from Baton Rouge, I took the liberty of finding out about you both.”
Had Hovard heard the talk of Kate footing all the bills? Were they all wondering why the loan?
Hovard started with Jason. “Mr. Bolton, your father was the manager at Belle Fleuve. Is that right?”
“Correct, sir.”
“And do you feel you’ve acquired his skill?”
“I hope so, sir.”
Jason opened up, chatting easily with Hovard about his upbringing, his years in the Confederate army, and his recent marriage and move back to the plantation.
Hovard made a few notes before he turned to Colin.
“Your father was not only a plantation owner but also an architect, right?”
“Mostly an architect. When he married my mother, the former Marie Baudier, he became a gentleman planter. Bolton’s father was responsible for the success of the cane production.”
“Then you and Mr. Bolton should make successful partners as well.”
“We hope so,” Colin said.
“You recently lost a sister.” Hovard stopped reading his notes and looked up.
“Yes. Amelie. She left her children in my care.”
“Your wife is the former Katherine Keene.”
Colin nodded. Waited.
“Gilbert Keene was one of our investors. He wasn’t one of the original twelve, but he came in shortly after the founders. You shouldn’t have any problem securing a loan.”
Colin made a move to rise, ready to walk out. Jason touched his sleeve and Colin relaxed. He needed this loan, if for no other reason than to salvage his tattered pride.
“No liens on the place?” Hovard sifted through some papers and then looked up. “Just a formality. I have to ask.”
“My parents owned the plantation outright.”
“The taxes are current, I assume? So many planters fell behind after the war.”
“Property taxes on Belle Fleuve were waived because of my recent service in the Indian wars out west.”
Hovard frowned over his notes. “That’s odd. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I was given a letter when I returned. It’s dated three or four years back.” He’d remembered to bring it along and showed it to Hovard.
“You received this from the tax office?”
“I went directly there after I left the army and returned to Louisiana. The letter was in their records.”
“When was that?”
“Not long ago. A few months.” So much had happened he wasn’t certain.
He had been in terrible pain and in a laudanum-induced haze when he returned. He tried to piece the story together.
“Upon arriving back in the city I ran into a neighbor who told me about all the foreclosures and auctions. He advised me to visit the tax office before I went on to Belle Fleuve.” Colin hadn’t kept up with any tax payments and was certain he would find himself homeless.
Hovard remained silent. What was he thinking? Beside Colin, Jason shifted.
“If I do owe any back taxes, could you add the amount to the loan? Of course, I prefer to keep the amount as close to what I’ve requested in my application as possible.”
Finally Hovard leaned back in his chair. He steeped his hands and tapped his fingertips together.
“There shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll need proof that your property tax payments are current. It would be more expedient if you went to the tax office and asked for documentation yourself while I put the paperwork in order. If you wouldn’t mind,” he added.
“Not at all.” What he wanted was to go home. What he needed was the loan granted with all haste. “We will make time.”
Jason nodded in agreement.
“Fine.” Hovard got to his feet. “Then I’ll meet with you here this afternoon and we’ll finalize the loan. You’ll be on your way home by tomorrow morning.”
On the third day of Colin’s absence, while Eugenie and the children continued their treasure hunt, Kate concentrated on the prairie house and barn designs she planned to submit to the periodical contest. She started with a plain country house and stretched her imagination. The first floor included all of the usual rooms and an indoor kitchen. Then she added two wide verandas front and back. She included fireplaces in all of the first-floor rooms and many of the second. The upstairs mirrored the first floor with a spacious hall separating the bedrooms. She chose economical woods of pine and ash and stipulated no paint or graining.
After drawing in a staircase at the end of the central hall, she included a circular stained-glass window at the first landing to lighten the stairwell and give the stairs a warm glow in the daytime.
She closed her eyes and envisioned the house standing tall and inviting on the prairie, a home full of life and laughter and hope. As Kate penciled in the round window above the staircase, she fancifully filled the circle with the outline of a shamrock.
Just as she finished the detail, Marie and Damian ran in. Kate greeted them with a smile.
Dam
ian leaned against Kate’s chair while Marie studied the plans.
“Eugenie said we plum tuckered her out,” Damian told Kate.
“I imagine you did,” she laughed.
“Are you finished?” Marie wanted to know.
“Almost. Any luck with the treasure hunt, Damian?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’m not giving up.”
“What’s that?” Marie was pointing to the window with the shamrock. “If it’s a four-leaf clover you forgot one of the leaves.”
“It’s a shamrock. Shamrocks are a symbol associated with Ireland, the country where I was born. Your great-great Delany grandparents were born there too.”
“Shamrock,” Damian repeated.
“It’s pronounced seamrog in Irish.” Kate traced the design with her finger. “My mother only had one piece of jewelry, a round, brass pendant with a shamrock in the center. She never took it off.”
“Your mother who died?” Marie looked thoughtful. “Or the one who adopted you?”
Kate nodded. “The one who died.”
“Did she get buried with it on?” Damian started kicking the leg of the table.
“Please stop,” Kate said before she answered. “I’m not sure what happened to it. Perhaps one of my sisters has it.”
“The one who went to the orphanage with you. Maybe she has it,” Marie suggested.
Kate shook her head. “No, she didn’t. Perhaps one of my two older sisters though.”
“Where are they now?”
“I don’t know. I’ve tried to find them, but I haven’t had much luck.” Now that money and time were both dear, it would be a while before she could continue the search.
“Maybe they never got out of the orphanage.” Marie’s eyes took on a panicked look. “Maybe they are still there.”
Kate shook her head. “They’re all grown women now.”
Damian lost interest, picked up one of Kate’s pencils, and started drawing on a blank page.
“Would you like to see them again?” Marie asked.
“Of course,” Kate said. “I still hope to find them all someday.”
She tucked a strand of Marie’s hair behind her ear. “Will you help Damian wash up for supper?”
They left the room hand in hand, reminding Kate of when she and her sisters used to make a chain of linked hands and drag Sarah, the youngest, along behind them.
For all she knew one of them might be living right down the road. Would she know them if they met by chance? Would they recognize her?
It was still sunny but the afternoon held a chill, so Kate donned the sweater she had draped over the back of her chair. She made a few more touches to the drawings, and when she was finished she walked over to the window to gaze out into the late afternoon light. The oaks were lit with a golden glow; the gray moss hanging from the trees appeared as silver. The lane leading to River Road was deserted.
It wasn’t the first time she’d come to the window to watch for Colin. She had expected him to return sometime today and was disappointed. She missed him more than she thought possible. She looked forward to seeing him riding across the fields and watching him talk with the crew.
When she’d last seen him he’d had a genuine smile on his face — a smile for which she was responsible.
Kate pressed her palms against her cheeks and tried to think of something else but it was nigh impossible. Their night together still seemed like a dream, one that filled her with longings she’d never imagined.
Had Amelie ever known such happiness with Billy Hart? Perhaps in the beginning. Kate hoped so. Thanks to Amelie the children had thrived despite their situation in Kansas. Damian was rambunctious, but that was to be expected. It was impossible to know what life had in store for them. Hopefully, they would never lose each other the way she’d lost her sisters.
Pulling the edges of her sweater close she looked at the encircled shamrock on her drawing of the prairie house for the periodical contest and instead saw the rolling green hills, high cliffs, and rough seas of Ireland. She could almost smell a Yule log burning on the hearth and wasn’t sure if she was confusing memories of her earliest years in Ireland with her time there as an adult.
Thinking of Ireland, she decided it would be fun to have an Irish Christmas at Belle Fleuve. Surely there was enough to spare in her account for a simple Christmas.
Once she finished for the day, she went to find Eugenie, who told her Damian was upstairs complaining of a scratchy throat and Marie was reading to him.
Kate fixed a pot of hot chocolate and a tray with three mugs. As Kate entered the children’s room with the chocolate, she found that Marie was indeed reading to her brother. The girl put down the book when Kate entered. Her lovely Baudier eyes reflected her concern.
“He doesn’t have a fever,” Marie quickly informed Kate. “His forehead is very cool.”
Kate took Marie’s hand. “Don’t worry yourself. Little boys get colds all the time. So do little girls for that matter. He’ll be right as rain tomorrow. You’ll see.”
“I hope so.” Marie looked doubtful.
Kate made certain Damian was comfortable amid a mound of pillows before she poured them each a cup of chocolate. She sat down and told them she’d been thinking of how she’d spent Christmas as a child in Ireland and thought it might be fun to celebrate some of the old customs with them this year. Then she asked Marie to continue reading.
The girl really did have a talent. When Kate had money to spare she’d find an art tutor for Marie. A quiet hour passed and then Eugenie brought in a dinner tray for the children. Once they were settled, Kate stepped outside with Eugenie.
“Miss Kate—” Eugenie began.
Kate was eager to convey her thoughts. “You were right, Eugenie. I’ll always grieve for Amelie, but life does seem to be getting brighter. We have so much to be thankful for.”
“Amen to that,” Eugenie said.
“The day I came to Belle Fleuve and barged into Colin’s life, I never dreamed that we would be married with two children to raise.” She clasped her hands at her waist and smiled. “Perhaps I should eat with the children. I’ve no idea when Colin will be back, but since it’s already twilight, I assume it won’t be until tomorrow. I surely hope he won’t be gone much longer.”
“Why, he is home, Miss Kate. I was ‘bout to tell you. Turns out he’s been here ‘bout an hour or so. Simon just came in and told me ‘fore I brought the tray up.”
“Colin’s home?” Kate’s hand flew to her hair. Did she have time to change into something fresh. “Where is he?”
“In the garçonnière, I expect.”
“Then please set the table in the dining room. I’ll eat with Colin.” She couldn’t wait to see him, couldn’t wait to hear if the trip was successful. “I’ll just take a moment to freshen up and comb my hair.” Kate started toward her room.
“Mr. Colin told Simon he didn’t want dinner,” Eugenie said.
Had the meeting gone badly? Kate hid her concern.
“Why don’t you set the table for dinner anyway? He should have a bite of something. I’ll go after him in a moment.”
Eugenie left and Kate hurried to her room. She took five minutes to wash her face and let her hair down because Colin had whispered to her that he liked it falling around her shoulders. She decided to leave her glasses on; it was better to see his expression than give in to vanity.
Twilight dusted the sky with deep violet as Kate made her way along the path to the garçonnière. Halfway there an owl swooped across her path. Startled, she paused to watch it dip and disappear into the branches of a nearby tree. Her shoes crunched against the crushed-shell path. Before she reached the door she saw Colin lurch away from the lamp in the window as if he’d lost his balance. She picked up her pace, anxious to make sure he was all right.
“Colin,” she called out as she rapped twice on the door. “It’s me.” She couldn’t stop smiling. With a hand over her racing heart, she pictured him flinging op
en the door and sweeping her into his embrace. But the door didn’t open. Her smile faltered. With her heart in her throat, she leaned close to the door and tapped again.
“Colin? Are you all right?”
She heard him shuffle across the room and breathed a sigh of relief. The door slowly opened and there he was, towering over her, weaving a bit on his feet. The odor of whiskey permeated the air around him. Even through the dark days of Amelie’s illness and death he had never once drank to excess.
His expression was dark, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Oh, Colin.” She wished he would step back and let her in. “Whatever happened, we can face it together. If you didn’t get the loan …”
He leaned against the doorjamb and stretched out his arm, effectively blocking her way.
“Colin.”
“Ah, my lovely wife.” There was a sneer in his tone that chilled her to the core. “Ready to solve all my problems again.”
“What’s the matter? What happened?”
“Exactly what I’ve been wondering. What really happened here, Kate? What else have you lied about, I wonder.”
“I’ve lied about nothing.” She glanced over her shoulder, thankful no one was around to overhear. She pulled her sweater closer. “Please let me in so we can speak privately.”
He shrugged but didn’t budge. “Everyone already knows our business anyway.” Colin shifted but continued to block her way. “Is there really such a thing as a twenty-nine-year-old virgin?”
Her anger instantly flared. “You know better than that.”
“Yes, unfortunately I do. Now, thanks to our one night together, it will be much harder to get out of this.”
“Get out of what?”
“Ah, Kate. You gave me your innocence but not the truth.”
Her mind raced in circles. What could have made him this incredibly angry?
“Did you run into Ezekiel Stevens in New Orleans? Is that it? Surely you don’t think that I—”
“I don’t know what to think about you anymore. Jamison sings your praises but he’s of the same opinion as the Hibernia bankers. Everyone tells me I made a very fortuitous marriage to Gilbert Keene’s daughter. They all believe that I was insane and down on my luck and you paid my way out.”
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