Heart of Glass

by Jill Marie Landis

The place was already bustling with businessmen and government officials. As it had been for decades, the hotel’s famous Parlor P was still the center of Southern politics, and during Reconstruction the hotel had been the site of at least six different congressional committee investigations.

  Kate waited for the children beneath the grand rotunda. The hotel housed six hundred guests, and it was here that many of the formerly wealthy planters displaced by the war had sought asylum for as long as they could afford it. Who knew she would be experiencing their plight firsthand?

  The rotunda amplified even the most hushed sounds rising from the floor beneath it. The many footsteps and conversations exchanged by harried businessmen and politicians combined with the higher-pitched voices of women preparing to venture out created quite a din. Even with all the noise, it was hard to miss Damian’s shout as he came running across the room.

  “Aunt Kate! Aunt Kate, we’re here!”

  When she spotted him making a beeline for her, Kate knelt and opened her arms wide. He barreled into her and hugged her tightly.

  “Oh, Aunt Kate. We’ve missed you. When are you coming home?”

  She looked over his head and saw Cora hurrying toward them. Marie was clinging to the woman’s hand. Kate extricated herself from Damian’s hold but kept his hand in hers as she waited for Cora and Marie.

  As soon as they were reunited, Marie wrapped her arms around Kate’s waist and hugged her without a word. Kate drew back and smoothed her hand over Marie’s damp cheeks.

  “There now, don’t cry on such a wonderful day. I’m so happy you’re finally here.”

  “Can we see your room?”

  After a moment’s pause Kate said, “I’m afraid it’s a terrible mess right now. I couldn’t decide what to wear today and my things are flung about as if a hurricane stirred them up.”

  She reached for Marie’s hand and held tightly to both children. She told Cora, “I’ve planned a picnic for later. We’ll all be more comfortable in the park than here at the hotel.”

  She could tell Cora was both overwhelmed by the grandeur of the place and relieved to hear Kate say this. In her plain serge gown and wide-brimmed bonnet the woman looked neat and clean but hopelessly unsophisticated, and Kate found herself wishing she had dressed down a bit.

  “That sounds wonderful,” Cora agreed readily.

  “Have you been to New Orleans before?” Kate asked.

  “Only once, but Jason hadn’t time for sightseeing.”

  “Well, today we’ll take our time. The children have never been to a city before. Have you, Marie?”

  Marie shook her head no.

  “We’ve never been anywhere ‘cept Kansas.” Damian was enjoying the echo in the din.

  They exited onto the portico and started down the wide marble steps to the street where Eugenie waited with fussy baby Jake. Cora was relieved when they found her safely tucked in the shade away from the steady stream of passersby. Cora reached for Jake as Kate greeted Eugenie. Dressed in somber black, the woman’s eyes filled with tears the minute she saw Kate.

  “I wasn’t goin’ to do that,” Eugenie said as she wiped her eyes.

  “Please don’t cry or I’m afraid I will too. I missed you, Eugenie. I’ve missed you all. How is Simon?”

  “He’s fine. Everybody’s fine. Don’t you worry ‘bout us.”

  Kate blinked back tears. “Today is going to be a fine day,” she said, leading the way.

  They headed for the French Quarter. Damian was thrilled when they paused outside of an old building once thought to be Jean Lafitte’s blacksmith shop.

  They walked as far as they could, and when Cora tired of carrying Jake and the children were dragging, Kate hired an open carriage and they all piled in. The children’s heads swiveled right and left as they took in the sights and sounds. Damian asked why there were so many soldiers on the streets but Kate soon gave up trying to explain the military law established to quell the frequent riots between opposing sides vying for control over the city government.

  “Why isn’t Uncle Colin soldiering here?” Damian wanted to know.

  “Because of his ankle, silly,” Marie told him. “He’s not a soldier anymore.”

  At the mention of Colin’s name, Kate noticed that Cora busied herself adjusting the baby’s blanket. Eugenie had been mostly silent. They visited a toy shop where each child was allowed to choose a small memento. Marie chose a souvenir plate with a paddle wheeler in the center and magnolia blossoms painted around the rim. Damian chose a cup-and-ball game.

  They finally went on to the French Market, where Kate kept a wary eye out for pickpockets. She handed Damian and Marie a few coins so they could choose their own items for the picnic in Jackson Square.

  “Pralines!” Damian dashed for a cart with a grand display of sugary treats.

  “Fruit and cheeses, please,” Kate advised when she caught up. “I’ll get some bread. Perhaps we’ll all have a praline later and definitely some ginger cake.” She nodded to Eugenie, who shadowed Damian as he made his purchases. Kate helped Marie choose items for all of them to share.

  They walked three blocks back to Jackson Square and found a bench on the river side of the park near the equestrian statue of Andrew Jackson astride his rearing mount. After they spread out their food and sat down, Kate pointed out St. Louis Cathedral facing the square, the Presbytere, the Cabildo, and the Pontalba buildings.

  Once he gave up on getting the ball in the cup, Damian ran around the lanes circling the park. Marie, ever concerned, hurried after him.

  All day Cora and Eugenie had avoided any mention of Colin. Kate could take their silence no longer.

  “How is Colin?” she asked neither in particular.

  “I’d best go keep an eye on the children.” Eugenie stood and shook out the breadcrumbs that had fallen on her lap.

  Frustrated, Kate watched her go.

  “She’s very angry at him,” Cora volunteered. “I’m surprised he hasn’t fired her.”

  Kate was aghast. “He wouldn’t.”

  Cora shrugged. “Not unless he’s lost his mind. She does such a fine job with the children.”

  “That’s good.” Kate’s gaze found the familiar trio across the park.

  “But it’s not the same as having you there.” Cora paused, considering. “They ran away last week.”

  Kate dropped the leftovers she was wrapping. “The children ran away?”

  Cora shifted the baby to her other shoulder and patted his bottom. “They didn’t get far. Eugenie came to the house looking for them. Colin searched the road. I was frantic until Jason came home and told me Colin had found them not far away. They were running away to live with you. That’s why Colin agreed to this visit.”

  What if he hadn’t found them so quickly? What if they’d lost them for good?

  “I can’t thank you enough for bringing them to town.” Kate smiled at the babe nestled in Cora’s arms. “I’m sorry you had to make the journey with the baby.”

  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 fa
mily 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?

  TWENTY - ONE

  Colin 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 i
magine 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.