Heart of Glass (32 page)

Cora looked up and smiled. “It’s not bad by steamboat. Colin had the men restore the old river landing so now
Belle Fleuve
has its own dock again.”

“Things are going well then?”

“As well as can be expected. Jason and Colin are constantly inspecting every acre. The cane is finally in the ground but they’ll be nervous as mother hens until it’s grown. Colin seems particularly driven.”

Kate waved at Damian, who was across the park calling her name. He started running again.

“You should come home, Kate. Christmas is in a few short weeks and you should be there with your family.”

Kate turned to face the river. Christmas at
Belle Fleuve
. How often had she dreamed of it? Christmas was the one time of year her parents insisted on acting their part and kept her with them in New Orleans for the festivities. Once she had asked why she couldn’t spend Christmas with the Delanys and was told holidays were for families and she couldn’t intrude.

For the first time she had a family of her own — a hodge-podge, cobbled-together family of sorts — but a family nonetheless. She had every right to be celebrating with them at
Belle Fleuve
. But she would not be with them this year unless Colin showed up at the door and asked her to come home.

She had more hope of a flock of pigs flying over Jackson Square.

Full of ginger cakes and pralines and toting souvenirs, the little party trudged to the wharf where they would board another steamboat back upriver. The children had become more withdrawn with every step and both of them balked when it was finally time to bid Kate farewell.

Determined not to cry, Kate knelt down and held them close.

“We’ll have none of this.” She spoke as cheerfully as she could. “If you go home all red-faced and sorrowful your uncle might not let you visit again.”

“But … you’ll be home soon, won’t you, Aunt Kate?” Marie had taken a step back but Damian had a tight grip on Kate’s skirt.

“Sooner than anything.”

“Why don’t you come with us now? Please?”

Kate drew a shaky breath but held onto her smile.

“I’ve still too much to do here. Besides I must pack my things before I return.” Her heart was breaking.

“You said we’d have Irish Christmas this year,” Damian reminded her.

“So we shall, another time.” She closed the subject. “I’ll write you a letter as soon as I get back to my room. That way it will chase you home.”

Kate was close to falling apart and looked to Eugenie and Cora for help. Eugenie stepped forward.

“You’ll see your aunt for Christmas. I’ll make sure of that myself.” Eugenie gently pried Damian loose from Kate’s skirt. “I will see to it,” she whispered to Kate. “That man’s not gonna keep you from these children on Christmas.”

Just then, as if Kate hadn’t enough to deal with, Captain Ezekiel Stevens stepped out of the crowd at the wharf and joined them. Kate introduced him to Cora. He gave a nod to Eugenie.

“You remember Damian and Marie,” she added.

“The niece and nephew. Of course.” Tall and broad shouldered, the captain’s red-gold hair was thick and wavy beneath his white hat. He gave the children little more than a glance.

“I heard you were in town.” Stevens ignored everyone but Kate.

“On business.” She took Damian’s free hand and began walking toward the boat ramp. “If you’ll excuse me, the children are heading home.”

Undeterred, the captain fell into step beside her. Once they reached the end of the gangplank, Kate gave Damian a kiss and a hug and then bestowed the same on Marie. The girl turned away without a word and went aboard. Kate called out to her but Marie kept going.

“I’ll see to her,” Cora said. “Thank you for a lovely day, Kate. I’m sure the children will remember this for a long time. So will I.” Snuggling Jake close, she hurried after Marie.

Eugenie urged Damian along but the boy stopped in his tracks.

“We got to ride on a boat after all,” he told Stevens. “A steamboat like yours.”

“Almost like mine,” Stevens said, eyeing the packet. “Not as big or as fancy.”

“I’ll still ride on yours sometime if you wanna take me,” Damian volunteered. “We got a dock built at the plantation now.”

“Anytime.”

Two shrill whistles warned the passengers milling on the dock to hurry aboard.

“Give your uncle my regards,” Ezekiel Stevens told Damian. “You be sure to tell him I said hello.”

Eugenie told Kate good-bye and led the boy up the gangplank.

Despite Stevens standing there, Kate couldn’t leave, though she wanted to get away from him. Not with Damian and Marie and the women waving good-bye from the ship’s rail. She waited as the steam packet got underway, then waved until her arm grew tired and the steamboat finally disappeared around a bend in the river.

“I’ll walk you home,” the captain said, offering his arm.

“No, thank you.” Her nerves were frayed. She started walking.

He fell in beside her. “What will your husband say when he finds out we met here?”

She turned on him. “What do you mean?”

“I saw your face when I told the boy to say hello. I know Mr. Delany doesn’t hold me in high regard.”

“Mr. Delany doesn’t care for men who are so forward with me.” She almost told him that she didn’t either — but she was still working with him on the reconstruction of his silly steamboat house.

“Then Mr. Delany should be keeping a better eye on you. If you were mine I’d never let you out of my sight.”

“Colin trusts me.”

“Does he?”

Not anymore
, she remembered.

“Of course.” She started walking again.

“Do you trust him?”

“Yes.”

“Your trust may be misplaced then. I saw him a few weeks ago here in town with a redhead on his arm.”

A redhead
. The redhead she’d run into at the
garçonnière
? Stevens gave her no time to react.

“Why aren’t you living at
Belle Fleuve
?”

“Who says I’m not?”

“It’s pretty much common knowledge.”

“I hardly think so in a city this size,” she said.

“Ah. It may be a large pond but the puddles around it are very small.”

She fell silent, hoping that he’d get the hint and leave her alone. He had done enough damage for one day. Instead he shortened his long strides to match her pace.

“Mrs. Delany. Kate. You’ve had a trying day. I can see it on your face. How about I take you to dinner at Antoine’s?”

“No, thank you.”

“Coffee then?”

“No, thank you, Captain.”

“Some other time then?”

Kate extended her hand.

“Thank you for the kind offer and your concern, but I prefer to be alone. Good afternoon.”

She forgot he was one for kissing hands until he bowed and raised her hand to his lips. His moustache grazed her skin.

When he raised his head his eyes twinkled above his smile.

“You find me funny, Captain?”

“I find you challenging, Mrs. Delany, and I’m a man who loves a good challenge.”

It had been a long, emotional day and Kate was beginning to wilt. As if he knew he’d pushed her far enough, Stevens suddenly bid her good-bye and walked off.

Kate watched him go with a heavy heart and sense of
foreboding. There was no denying he was handsome, if one liked his type, but he wasn’t Colin.

Colin. He’d been seen with a redhead when he was in town. Had he sought out the woman the minute he arrived? Or had he turned to her to help him forget his humiliation?

C
olin and Jason were going over accounts in the sitting room as Eugenie entered. She wore an irritable expression of passivity that set Colin’s nerves on edge. Not only had her anger dissolved into pity, but he caught her looking at him as if he were a lost cause.

“It’s almost time to tuck the children into bed, Mr. Colin.”

“Thank you.” He watched her as she left, but she didn’t say another word.

“Where has the time gone?” Jason looked at his watch. “It’s high time I headed home.”

Colin escorted him to the gallery. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I know you’d rather be with Cora and your boy.”

“You’re driving yourself too hard, Colin. There’s nothing more we can do before harvest.”

“I have to succeed at this.”

“Times may never be as good as they were before the war,” Jason reminded him.

“I’m aware of that.” Colin’s need to succeed wasn’t just about putting food on the table. Until he and Kate were on equal footing there was no way his pride would let him ask her to come back.

“Cora said Kate misses you.”

“Did Kate say so herself?” Colin tried to imagine Kate speaking so openly about him.

“Cora said she could tell.” Jason paused a moment as if debating his next words. “You know, there’s stubborn and then there’s stupid stubborn. You deserve to be happy, Colin. There was a time before we went to New Orleans I thought that might be possible, before you let what happened at the tax office ruin everything.”

They’d never spoken of that, not once.

Colin regretted taking Jason with him to the tax office that day weeks ago. As he thought about Jason’s comment, he recalled what happened.

They were forced to stand in a long line of landowners waiting to plead their cases. When they reached the head of the line Colin presented his letter.

“I was given this, which tells me my taxes were waived. Now I’ve applied for a loan and need proof the property is free and clear.”

They waited while the
Belle Fleuve
file was located. The clerk took his sweet time reading over page after page of documentation and receipts, many dating back to the establishment of the plantation. He paused to peer over his glasses at Colin.

“Is there a problem?” Colin asked.

“Just a moment, please.” The man walked toward the back of the room to confer with someone else.

Would he come back and say Colin owed thousands of dollars?

The man returned with another clerk who looked over the letter, then shuffled through the file.

“Ah, yes. Here it is.”

Colin tried to read the receipt in the man’s hands. The second clerk spoke up again.

“I remember now. A Miss Keene, Gilbert Keene’s daughter, paid off the back taxes four years ago. Quite a substantial amount as you can see.” He handed the receipt to Colin. The amount was staggering.

“She made quite an impression as I recall. Came in with a foreclosure notice she’d ripped off the door of the property and torn to pieces. She had heard somewhere about you enlisting in the army to fight on the frontier after the war, so she wanted the payment to be anonymous. The head of the department knew her father, and together he and the clerk who filed the receipt of payment came up with the idea of this letter. Highly irregular. The clerk is no longer here, by the way.”

A third clerk with ink-stained fingers and sleeve protectors walked over to join them.

“I remember you,” he said to Colin. “I was here when you first came in a few months ago. I found that letter in the file and gave it to you myself.”

Colin didn’t recognize the man, but he wouldn’t have recognized himself when he returned to New Orleans. The crowd in the office had doubled in size. Beside him Jason stared at the receipt of payment. The amount he owed Kate was more than he could hope to pay back for years.

“You look like someone could knock you down with a feather right now. You didn’t know?” Jason asked.

“I didn’t know,” Colin mumbled.
She didn’t tell me
.

Shock blocked out everything. Even the pain in his ankle.

“I’ll write up a letter for you. Proof that you’re all paid up.” When the clerk handed Colin the letter and carried the file away, Colin couldn’t face Jason. Letter in hand, he turned to leave and was forced to walk past the long line of men — men with hats in hand, men with no one to bail them out. Men wearing tailored suits with frayed cuffs and hems. Men who were about to lose everything.

They stared at him in silence as he walked out.

Even if Colin forgave Kate, would he ever forget?

“Think about what I’ve said, will you?” Jason’s voice brought Colin back to the present. “Throwing away happiness would be
worse than any humiliation life hands you. It’s not a shame to accept help, Colin. Not when it’s freely given.”

Not if the giver is honest about it
.

“Tell Cora that I’m sorry for keeping you so late. Daylight has slipped away.”

“Solstice is almost here. The days will soon grow longer again.”

Every day was too long without Kate.

Colin watched his old friend ride away.

Mention of solstice was a reminder that Christmas would be on them in a few days. Even with two children under his roof Colin had no plans for a celebration other than a midday meal with the Boltons on Christmas Day. His mother had loved the season and had celebrated as her ancestors had done by holding a grand feast,
le réveillon
, on Christmas Eve. Eugenie had directed as the kitchen slaves prepared roast goose and oyster gumbo. There were rich egg dishes and delicate pastries. As a child Colin’s favorite had been a cake in the shape of a log, the
bûche de Noël
, like the birch log traditionally burned in the fireplace on Christmas Eve.

He couldn’t imagine trying to replicate the festivities on his own, especially so soon after Amelie’s death. Certainly not without Kate.

Colin pictured Kate hurrying from room to room, making certain the house was festively decorated, instigating the baking of sweets and treats, hanging mistletoe for luck over the front door.

But Kate wasn’t here, and whatever Colin attempted without her would fall short of pleasing the children.

Damian and Marie had returned so buoyant after their visit that he was glad he had let them go. Showing off their keepsakes, they took turns relating stories of the open carriage ride and picnic in Jackson Square. Colin had never seen Marie so animated. Damian went on and on about the St. Charles rotunda, the pirate Jean Lafitte’s blacksmith shop, and their ride on the steamboat packet. It wasn’t until the boy had mentioned Captain Stevens at the dock that Colin’s mood soured again.