such foolishness.
The hours had flown while she had supervised Simon and his crew, and since Amelie and the children arrived there hadn’t been a moment to spare. She hadn’t even returned to the
garçonnière
since she had taken the children to meet Colin three days ago.
Not that she cared to see him while she was still confused about her reaction to his accidental touch. Not while that glimpse of what he was and could be again lingered in her mind.
She picked up the photographs of the Delanys, put a smile on her face, and breezed into Amelie’s room.
“You’re looking better today!” she exclaimed.
“Poor Kate.” Amelie’s voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. Ravaged from her nightly battle with fever, she lay limp and wasted against a mound of pillows.
“You
do
look better.” As Kate opened the window hoping fresh air would dispel the staleness in the room, she heard Amelie’s soft sigh.
Kate walked to the bedside and handed her the photographs. “I brought these in from the
garçonnière
. Do you feel like looking through them now or should I set them on the table?”
Amelie held out her hand. Kate couldn’t help but notice the tremor that ran through it.
“Where are the children?” Amelie dropped the photographs in her lap.
“They’re out exploring with Myra, walking along the levee and watching the boats on the river.”
“They don’t know how to swim—” Amelie’s worry increased the lines around her eyes.
“Myra won’t let them anywhere near the edge of the path. Remember how vigilant she was with us?”
“I suppose.” Amelie turned her attention to the photographs, pausing now and again to comment.
“Remember this dress?” She turned the photograph so that Kate could see. Amelie’s skirt was draped over a wide hoop, the hems of her ruffled pantalets showing beneath it. “I loved that gown. What a silly creature I was.”
“You look like a confection. A crème layer cake.” Kate fought to keep her tone light, afraid her voice might crack and give her away.
Amelie took her time perusing through the stack twice, then laid the photographs on the bedclothes draped over her thin frame.
“Thank you, Kate. I’ll be seeing Mama and Papa again soon enough.” Her voice was so weak Kate barely heard her.
Kate was hard-pressed not to grab the photographs and toss them out the door and over the balcony.
“Don’t talk like that.” She walked back to the window, claspedher hands together, and tried to still her racing heart. She knew she sounded far too harsh but couldn’t control her anger. How was Amelie to get well if she didn’t believe it herself?
“Your children need you,” Kate said.
“I know they do,” Amelie said with more strength than she’d shown in days. “But they won’t have me much longer and they need a home. I think that you of all people can understand.”
Suddenly it was all back. Her birth mother’s illness and death, she and her sisters huddled together crying. Lovie tried to comfort them. Megan angry. Sarah too young to know what was happening. The feeling of helplessness, of emptiness, had been terrifying.
Kate swallowed a sob.
“Kate, turn around and come here, please.”
She took a deep breath and collected herself before she obliged. She went to sit on the edge of the bed and took Amelie’s hand.
“The children still speak of their visit to Colin. Thank you for taking them to meet him.”
“It was nothing.” At the very least she should take the children back to visit him again before she left for the city tomorrow.
“He hasn’t come to see me yet,” Amelie said.
“Perhaps in time …” Kate looked away from the hopelessness in Amelie’s eyes.
“I haven’t much time, and I have no idea if Colin will ever forgive me or if he’ll be willing to care for my children. I need a promise from you, Kate. Please promise you’ll raise my children as your own after I’m gone.”
To promise would be to admit Amelie was
The hours had flown while she had supervised Simon and his crew, and since Amelie and the children arrived there hadn’t been a moment to spare. She hadn’t even returned to the
garçonnière
since she had taken the children to meet Colin three days ago.
Not that she cared to see him while she was still confused about her reaction to his accidental touch. Not while that glimpse of what he was and could be again lingered in her mind.
She picked up the photographs of the Delanys, put a smile on her face, and breezed into Amelie’s room.
“You’re looking better today!” she exclaimed.
“Poor Kate.” Amelie’s voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. Ravaged from her nightly battle with fever, she lay limp and wasted against a mound of pillows.
“You
do
look better.” As Kate opened the window hoping fresh air would dispel the staleness in the room, she heard Amelie’s soft sigh.
Kate walked to the bedside and handed her the photographs. “I brought these in from the
garçonnière
. Do you feel like looking through them now or should I set them on the table?”
Amelie held out her hand. Kate couldn’t help but notice the tremor that ran through it.
“Where are the children?” Amelie dropped the photographs in her lap.
“They’re out exploring with Myra, walking along the levee and watching the boats on the river.”
“They don’t know how to swim—” Amelie’s worry increased the lines around her eyes.
“Myra won’t let them anywhere near the edge of the path. Remember how vigilant she was with us?”
“I suppose.” Amelie turned her attention to the photographs, pausing now and again to comment.
“Remember this dress?” She turned the photograph so that Kate could see. Amelie’s skirt was draped over a wide hoop, the hems of her ruffled pantalets showing beneath it. “I loved that gown. What a silly creature I was.”
“You look like a confection. A crème layer cake.” Kate fought to keep her tone light, afraid her voice might crack and give her away.
Amelie took her time perusing through the stack twice, then laid the photographs on the bedclothes draped over her thin frame.
“Thank you, Kate. I’ll be seeing Mama and Papa again soon enough.” Her voice was so weak Kate barely heard her.
Kate was hard-pressed not to grab the photographs and toss them out the door and over the balcony.
“Don’t talk like that.” She walked back to the window, claspedher hands together, and tried to still her racing heart. She knew she sounded far too harsh but couldn’t control her anger. How was Amelie to get well if she didn’t believe it herself?
“Your children need you,” Kate said.
“I know they do,” Amelie said with more strength than she’d shown in days. “But they won’t have me much longer and they need a home. I think that you of all people can understand.”
Suddenly it was all back. Her birth mother’s illness and death, she and her sisters huddled together crying. Lovie tried to comfort them. Megan angry. Sarah too young to know what was happening. The feeling of helplessness, of emptiness, had been terrifying.
Kate swallowed a sob.
“Kate, turn around and come here, please.”
She took a deep breath and collected herself before she obliged. She went to sit on the edge of the bed and took Amelie’s hand.
“The children still speak of their visit to Colin. Thank you for taking them to meet him.”
“It was nothing.” At the very least she should take the children back to visit him again before she left for the city tomorrow.
“He hasn’t come to see me yet,” Amelie said.
“Perhaps in time …” Kate looked away from the hopelessness in Amelie’s eyes.
“I haven’t much time, and I have no idea if Colin will ever forgive me or if he’ll be willing to care for my children. I need a promise from you, Kate. Please promise you’ll raise my children as your own after I’m gone.”
To promise would be to admit Amelie was
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