Free Heart of Glass by Jill Marie Landis

missing silver candelabra and pianoforte. Holes were in the plaster where sconces once flanked the fireplace. The mahogany mantel was splintered. None of Kate’s efforts had yet eradicated the visible signs of ill-use caused by the Yankees and the neglect that moved in after them.
    “Promise me you’ll stay.” Amelie broke into another fit of coughing, grabbed the hem of her skirt, bent and held it to her lips. When she sat up, Kate saw flecks of blood on the fabric. Her own blood ran cold.
    “Of course I’ll stay.” She would not leave Amelie in this state, not with two children in tow and no husband in sight. Not while there was no telling what Colin might do.
    They had all been brought together for a reason, just as Kate had hoped. There was no way she could leave now.
    “It seems like a dream,” Kate said.
    “It does, doesn’t it, Kate? We were so spoiled all our lives. We had everything and didn’t realize it. Now it’s as if our lives before the war never happened. We’ve nothing left but memories.” Amelie rested her head against the back of the settee and closed her eyes.
    “You’re home now. You can build a new life for yourself and the children,” Kate said.
    Amelie opened her eyes. “You’ve been kind not to comment on the way I look, but a blind man could see that I’m ill.” She took a shallow breath and a rattle escaped. “The truth is, I’m dying. I haven’t much time left and must know my children will be safe. I hoped my brother—”
    Shaken, Kate stopped her. “Don’t talk like that. I prayed that you’d come home and here you are. Now that you’re back, things will be wonderful again. Eugenie, Myra, and I will soon have you well. You’ll see.”
    Amelie shook her head. “I have consumption, Kate. The doctor said I’m not going to get well.”
    “Who said that? Some backwoods prairie doctor? What does he know?” Kate forced a laugh. The idea was nonsense. She refused to believe it. “You’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
    “This isn’t something you can wish away, Kate. Not like the old days when we wished upon the evening star. This is something not even you can fix.” Amelie stared at her work-worn hands. “Not even you,” she whispered.
    Undeterred, Kate took hold of Amelie’s hand and drew her to her feet. “We’ll just see about that. Come on now, let’s get you upstairs. Your old room is all ready for you. The children can share Colin’s, since he’s not using it.” She would have Simon bring the child’s bed from the attic for Damian.
    “You won’t leave, will you, Kate? If Colin doesn’t want me and the children here, I don’t know what to do or where to go.” Simply walking from the sitting room to the stairs taxed Amelie.She grabbed hold of the banister as they started up. Kate clung to her elbow, careful not to hold too tight.
    “Never worry for a moment,” Kate said. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.” If Colin had the nerve to throw out his sister, then she would find lodging for them all in the city.
    The pallet Kate had used when she first arrived was put to use again that night. Amelie was so worn and fragile, so feverish by the time she had bathed and was tucked between clean sheets, that Kate hated to leave her alone. She bedded down on the floor beside Amelie. After a restless bout of fever and cold sweats, Amelie finally slept. Kate tossed and turned, her mind racing most of the night. She had no idea how Colin would take the news of his sister’s arrival, but he would be furious when he heard she was staying on at Amelie’s request.
    Her mind replayed the events from earlier that evening. After placing a cool compress on Amelie’s forehead, Kate had listened to her faint whispers as she told the story of her infatuation with Billy Hart, a Confederate enlisted man who walked away from his regiment.
    “I found him hiding behind the smokehouse one foggy winter morning,” Amelie said. “I hid him in a crawl hole beneath the barn