Heart of Glass

by Jill Marie Landis

  “That horse is only as old as I am, Captain,” Colin informed him. “It might not look like much, but with some care it will be as good as new.”

  Stevens eyed him carefully. “For the boy’s sake, I hope so.” The man turned to Kate. “I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

  “When I finish the preliminary sketches, I’ll have them delivered to Mr. Jamison. We should all meet together at that point to see if you approve. No need for you to come back out here.”

  Colin was relieved to hear she planned to be with Jamison when she presented the plans.

  “Stopping by is no problem. I’m constantly up and down the river. The plantation just south of here has a landing. I used it today.”

  “But you rode your horse,” Damian piped up to remind him.

  The captain smiled. “I did, but from just down the road. Brutus is as at home aboard the steamboat as I.”

  “Can we please, please go for a boat ride?” Damian begged.

  “Damian,” Kate corrected, “the captain is a very busy man.”

  “I’d be happy to take all of you for a ride anytime,” Stevens said.

  “That’s very kind of you, but …”

  When Kate protested, Colin found himself smiling triumphantly at Stevens. The captain pointedly ignored him.

  “Perhaps when we meet in New Orleans we can set a date. Until next time, Mrs. Delany.” He had the nerve to reach for Kate’s hand and carry it to his lips.

  Kate’s work meant so much to her that Colin held his silence. He could best Ezekiel Stevens in a duel, but how could he explain calling a man out and shooting him at forty paces to Damian and Marie? Or to Kate for that matter?

  Once Stevens was mounted up and headed down the drive, Colin heard Kate sigh.

  “I hope that was a sigh of relief,” he said.

  Kate walked back into the house. Colin followed her with Damian close on his heels.

  “He wants me to turn a perfectly good house into a riverboat on land.” Kate paused beside her desk, frowned at the original house plans.

  Damian was still waiting.

  “Run outside and find Simon,” Colin told him.

  “But …”

  “Go. I need to talk to your Aunt Kate alone.” As soon as Damian was gone Colin sat down near the table. “What would Jamison say if you told him you thought taking this commission would be bad for business?”

  “He made it clear I’m to please the clients.”

  Colin studied her profile as she read over the notes on her desk. Her skin was smooth as porcelain. He longed to slip her spectacles off her pert little nose and watch her eyes grow wide with surprise.

  “How far would you go to please Stevens, Kate?”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you, how close he was sitting.”

  “Surely you don’t think that I …”

  “You have no ring to remind him you’re married.”

  “Jamison told him we had recently wed. I introduced you as my husband—”

  “Only after some hesitation.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” She stepped back and crossed her arms. After contemplating him for a second, she slowly shook her head. “Why, Colin, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous.”

  “Jealous? Of course not.” To admit to jealousy would mean he cared more deeply for Kate than he even realized. “I just don’t like him, that’s all.”

  “I don’t like him much either, to be honest. I found him far too loud and brash, and I certainly don’t like his ideas.”

  “The style might catch on.”

  “You don’t really think so, do you?”

  “Who knows? But if you don’t like him, then tell Jamison to find someone else to work with him. We’ll get by.”

  “I can’t turn down my first real assignment no matter how odious Stevens is. I need this chance.” She picked up the miniature carving of Belle Fleuve, turning it over and over in her hands.

  “When did Simon give that to you?” he asked.

  “The day Amelie arrived. He made it as my going-away gift.” She set it on top of her notes and gave Colin her full attention.

  “I’m glad you stayed, Kate.”

  Having her here felt right. Comfortable. Without Kate to care for and encourage them all to be better, their odd little patchwork family wouldn’t feel whole.

  “It’s your time to shine, Kate. Design the first-ever steamboat house. I know you’ll do everything you can to make it wonderful no matter how you feel about it.”

  “Or the captain.”

  “Or the captain,” he agreed. She looked so serious, so determined, that Colin was tempted to kiss her just to see how she would react.

  They heard Damian and Simon approaching.

  “Do you really think I can do this, Colin? Do you think I can design something as ridiculous as a house that looks like a steamboat?” Her expression was still troubled.

  “If you gave up easily, Kate, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

  SIXTEEN

  Kate sat at her desk putting the final touches on her work. Then she leaned back, slipped off her glasses, and rubbed her tired eyes.

  Inspired by Colin’s faith in her, she had worked on the preliminary plans for Ezekiel Stevens’ riverboat house for the better part of a month. Once they were the best they could be, she created an alternate set of plans to give Stevens. Hopefully, he would understand how he could improve on the existing house without going to extremes.

  Marie was on the other side of the room with her watercolor papers spread out over the floor. Kate had assigned her the task of writing and illustrating a story. Marie had quickly become absorbed and set to work quietly. Kate found she enjoyed the girl’s company.

  “Are you almost finished, Aunt Kate?”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be really finished, but I’m going to make myself stop,” Kate said.

  Marie walked across the room and draped her arm around Kate’s shoulders. Kate smiled a little smile knowing Amelie would be pleased.

  “Those drawings just look like a bunch of lines to me,” Marie sighed.

  Kate pointed out the various rooms and doors and windows in the Garden District home.

  “Pretend you’re up above the house looking down into the inside. Like looking into a dollhouse if you took off the roof.”

  “I’ve never seen a dollhouse.”

  Kate put her glasses back on. She wished she had kept the dollhouse the Keenes had given her on her first Christmas with them. Of museum quality, she had gifted it to the orphanage before she left for Boston.

  “Well, someday perhaps you’ll have one.”

  “I’m too old for dolls.” Marie drew herself up to her full height.

  “No woman is ever too old to collect dolls.”

  Marie looked skeptical. “You don’t have any dolls, do you?”

  “Actually, I have one somewhere in those boxes and trunks stored in the barn. I’ll have to look for her once I send these plans to New Orleans.”

  She still hadn’t found time to unpack the things that arrived from the St. Charles. Somewhere in her boxes was a lovely doll that her father had presented to her. The two of them had shared dinner at Antoine’s on one of their rare occasions out without Nola. Kate had thought she was too old for dolls by then, but Gil Keene was so pleased with the gift that Kate treasured it as a reminder of that special evening.

  She was jotting a note to remember to look for the doll when Colin and Damian walked in.

  Not as shy with Colin as she used to be, Marie left Kate’s side to show him her paintings. Damian ran over to Kate’s desk and climbed up onto her lap. Unlike Marie, he had warmed to her quickly. Kate wrapped her arms around him. It was hard to remember what her life was like before the children were part of it.

  “Are you finished yet?” Damian asked.

  “Almost.”

  “You’ve been saying that for weeks. Me and Uncle C
olin have a surprise for you and Marie.”

  “What have you been up to?”

  “You have to come see.”

  “First you’ll have to get off my lap.”

  He laughed and hopped off, dragging Kate over to join Colin and Marie.

  “Are you really almost finished?” Colin looked doubtful.

  Kate didn’t blame him. The task had taken far longer than she hoped.

  “I just need to make a few small notes and adjustments. It shouldn’t take long. How about you? I thought you were going for a ride through the fields.” Less than a week ago he’d managed to mount his horse. Happy to be back in the saddle, he rode a while longer every day.

  “Damian convinced me that all work and no play makes me a dull uncle.”

  “If that’s true then I’m in good company. I’ll be glad to see the last of Captain Stevens’ riverboat house.”

  “Next you’ll be designing steamboats.”

  “Can we have a steamboat?” Marie asked.

  “I doubt we could get your uncle off the plantation long enough to use it.”

  Kate smiled, secretly happy that Colin was so busy. If he wasn’t out surveying the fields and the newly planted cuttings, then he was meeting with neighboring planters to discuss the cooperative they were forming.

  Damian took Kate’s hand and led her over to the middle of the room. Colin accompanied Marie.

  “Now close your eyes, Marie,” Damian said.

  “You too, Kate.” Colin moved to her side and put his hand over her eyes. “No peeking.”

  Damian called out, “Come in, Simon!”

  She heard the boy run across the floor. Colin dropped his hand away from her eyes and a second later Damian cried, “Open!”

  Kate opened her eyes. Colin, Damian, and Simon stood behind the beautifully restored rocking horse. Marie clapped her hands and ran over to join them. Kate went to inspect their handiwork and knelt down beside the horse as Simon excused himself and left.

  “He’s wonderful.” Kate lifted the new leather reins and then smoothed her hand over the red flannel seat. “I’ll bet he’s even better than he was when he was new.” She looked up at Colin and found him watching her with a thoughtful expression.

  “Not as good as new,” he said, “but at least he’s no longer useless.”

  Kate ran her hand over the newly sanded and refinished wooden horse. The rich, warm wood tones shone beneath the varnish.

  “What’s his name?” she asked Damian.

  “Uncle Colin can’t remember. I wanted to call him Brutus.”

  “I told him your Captain Stevens already used that name.”

  Kate glanced up at Colin again. “He’s not my Captain Stevens.”

  He shrugged in response. Obviously, the captain was still a sore point with him.

  “So I named him Blackbeard,” Damian told her.

  “A fine name for a pirate’s horse,” Kate said.

  “Pirates don’t ride horses,” Marie sniffed.

  Damian’s face puckered. “They do, don’t they, Uncle Colin?”

  “Whenever they’re on land. How do you think Jean Laffite got around when he was on land?” Colin folded his arms and nodded, his brow beetled into a frown. “I’m sure they had a fine stable of horses.”

  “Stolen horses!” Damian shouted.

  “Nicely done, Colin,” Kate said softly.

  “Jean Lafitte didn’t have to steal horses. He had plenty of money to spend on them,” Colin clarified.

  “Stolen treasure!” Damian yelled.

  “I’m not certain that you can get out of this.” Kate gave the horse a nudge and set it rocking then got to her feet. “But I’ll love hearing you try.”

  Colin took Damian’s hand and led him over to the chair at Kate’s table and sat down. He rested his hands on Damian’s small shoulders.

  “Stealing is a sin, Damian.”

  “I know.” The boy shrugged and tried to pull away but Colin held firm.

  “It’s an offense against the laws of God and man.”

  “I know. Thou shall not steal. Mama told us the commandments all the time.”

  “Good. I’m glad you know that.” Colin looked over at Kate. She smiled back.

  The boy was still talking. “Thou shall not kill either, but my daddy was a gunfighter. Somebody kilt him. And you were in the army. Did you kill anybody?”

  The sound of Colin’s sigh traveled across the room.

  “There’s a difference between being in the army and being a gunfighter.”

  “What is it?”

  Again Colin’s silence was a cry for help. Kate walked over and ruffled Damian’s curls.

  “That’s something your uncle will explain when you’re a bit older.”

  “I’ve been really, really good lately, haven’t I?” Damian looked to them both for an answer.

  “I think so,” Kate said.

  “As far as I know,” Colin said.

  “Then may I have my sword back?”

  “I’m drowning here,” Colin told Kate.

  “I’m not much help, I’m afraid. You promised you’d give it back if he was good.”

  “I have been good,” Damian insisted. “Now that I have my horse, I need my sword. Please?”

  “I’m not sure I want you careening around like a pirate,” Kate told him.

  “What if I turn into a soldier? Didn’t you carry a saber when you fought the Injuns, Uncle Colin?”

  This time Kate sighed.

  “It appears,” Colin said, “that we have our work cut out for us.”

  It was dark by the time Colin returned to the makeshift office looking for Kate. He paused in the doorway and watched her in the glow of the lamplight as she tied a string around her plans. She’d removed her glasses, and her expression was soft and vulnerable. The halo of light showed off her perfect complexion. Her brow crinkled in thought, and when she pursed her lips, he remembered the taste of her kiss.

  What was she thinking as she stared intently at the thick roll of plans?

  He knew how much she wanted Roger Jamison’s approval, but what of Ezekiel Stevens’? Was she just as concerned about pleasing the overbearing riverboat captain? It had been weeks since the man’s visit and yet the memory of Stevens casually sitting on the edge of Kate’s desk leering at her still set Colin’s teeth on edge.

  “Kate.” He said her name softly, afraid to startle her as he stepped into the room.

  She looked around, squinting toward the shadows. The rustle of palmetto fronds on the night breeze drifted in from the open gallery doors.

  “Why, it’s already dark.” She was astounded. “I must have lost track of time.”

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “You said that you’d join us for dinner.”

  “I’m so sorry. Surely you’ve already eaten, I hope. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I had Eugenie feed the children earlier. They’re already upstairs and tucked in for the night.” He nodded toward the desk as he moved closer and touched the ribbon around the plans. “It looks like they’re finally finished.”

  Her smile revealed her relief. “All wrapped up and ready to send to Jamison. Tomorrow I’ll have Simon drive me to post them. What about you? Have you eaten?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. I was going over some accounts and thinking about how best to keep the men occupied once the cane is in the ground. I’ve been trying to find out what each of them does best; some are better at hunting than fishing; one is an expert net maker. There’s crab and crawfish for the taking in the river. Alligator meat is good if you don’t lose a hand taking one. I thought of assigning the tasks they like to do so they can keep each other fed. Simon claims one of them is even a boat builder.”

  He warmed to her smile. She was listening intently.

  “You should be proud of what you’re doing, Colin. I know your father would be pleased.”

  “You’re the one who would amaze him. He loved architecture above all
things.”

  She shook her head. “Not more than he loved Belle Fleuve or his family.”

  “I couldn’t have done this without you, Kate.” Colin meant every word. Her cheeks flamed at the compliment.

  “Come with me. I have a surprise,” he urged.

  He waited as she turned down the lamp and followed him through the house. On impulse he took her hand and drew her along. Lit only by the milky wash of moonlight pouring in through the windows, the huge, silent house enfolded them as they moved toward the gallery.

  He had asked Eugenie to set a simple table under the moonlight — nothing so extravagant as their wedding night supper, but the setting was still intimate and everything was ready when they stepped outside.

  “Oh, Colin,” Kate turned to him with such delight that his heart tripped over itself.

  “I remembered how much you enjoyed our dinner outdoors. I’m happy the weather has cooperated.”

  He pulled her chair out for her, a simple feat, but one he hadn’t been able to manage the last time. Tonight there were no candles, no light other than the hurricane lamp in the middle of the table, but there were biscuits and jambalaya with sausage and rice, raisin pie, and even some of Eugenie’s dandelion wine.

  Once he was seated he raised his glass. “Here’s to the completion of your plans.” They each took a sip. Hungrier than he’d thought, Colin ate heartily. “What will you do next?”

  “I’ll have to see what Mr. Jamison has in mind. It will all depend on how well these plans are received.” She reached for a biscuit, broke it in half and slathered it with a generous hunk of butter. “I have collected a few periodicals that feature house design competitions. I’m going to enter.”

  “Architectural competitions in women’s periodicals?”

  “Who knows what a woman requires in a house better than another woman? Some winners are awarded prizes. Some have their plans printed in the publication.”

  “Have you entered before?”

  “Twice, but without any luck.”

  “I’ll bet no one ever entered a set of plans for a steamboat house.”

  “Nor will I.”

  She laughed and he was glad he could make her happy.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes until curiosity got the best of him.

  “Will you have to see Stevens again? Or will Jamison handle him now?”