There lay Tony sprawled on Jillian's bed, still unconscious from his drunken stupor. Only that wasn't what had frightened Curtis. It even frightened me.
Tony had put on that nightgown he had brought to me and the room reeked of jasmine. Who knew what delusions he had gone through, I thought, or how much more he drank to get this way. But I felt no pity for him; I felt only disgust.
I left him snoring there and closed the door behind me.
"He'll be all right," I told Curtis. "Just leave him alone."
"Very good, Mrs. Stonewall," he said. "Thank you."
I stopped just outside the front door and looked out over the grounds of Farthinggale Manor. The autumn winds were growing stronger and cooler.
They shook the trees and tore the colorful leaves from their branches. The downpour of red, yellow, and brown leaves scattered in a frenzy across the long driveway and over the green lawns. It was as if Nature were bringing down a curtain of colors. Branches already stripped of their finery hung naked against clouds as silver as coins. It brought a chill to me and I embraced myself. Then I hurried on to the limo.
Drake sat waiting, his toy fire engine in his lap.
Even after we gave him new toys, that was the one he still clung to. He looked so small and lost in the big car, like a baby bird left in its nest. I put my arm around him and pulled him to me as Miles started away.
And I never looked back.
FOURTEEN
There's No Place Like Home
.
HOME. HOME. THE WORD REPEATED IN
MY HEAD AS I boarded the plane for Atlanta, little Drake's hand pressed in mine, his eyes wide and staring at the bustle of the airport. "Tell me again where we're going, Heaven," he asked as we arranged ourselves in the seats of the bkpt.
"We're going home, Drake. Home to
Winnerow, Where I grew up. Where your daddy grew up. And now you'll grow up there, too," I said, putting a cheerful tone in my voice and excitement in my eyes. "And you'll be happy there, so happy!"
"But Heaven, I thought I was going to live in that castle! I liked it there." His voice was disappointed.
"I promise you'll like it even better in Winnerow, Drake. Why, we can go visit the house your daddy lived in. And there's lots of hills and forests to play in called the Willies, and there's fiddlers and a wonderful school and playgrounds and lots of children to play with, Oh, Drake, it's a wonderful place for a boy to grow up. I promise."
Soon we were again in the clouds and Drake was immediately asleep, giving my agitated mind time to play and replay what had happened the night before, and with it the circle of betrayals that was like a noose, growing tighter and tighter around my life until it seemed it would choke me. But I was determined to free myself from Tony's hold once and for all. For now it was completely, irrevocably clear to me. It was at Tony's door that all my troubles could be laid, from the very beginning of my life.
Logan's bright cheerful face greeted us at the airport gate. He picked up the sleepy Drake and kissed his cheeks, then looked at me with a million questions in his eyes. "When we get home, Logan, tell you everything. Not now. Okay?"
He nodded his assent, and the long trip to Winnerow was made in silence. I could almost hear the gears and wheels turning in Logan's mind, like the complicated mechanics of an intricate Tatterton toy.
Although Drake was a little tired from our fast and furious journey, he sat up alertly and took in the scenery as we entered Winnerow. On the telephone lines starlings sat like miniature dark soldiers, puffy, sleeping birds, eyes closed, anticipating the coming cold and waiting for the warming sun. Some of them opened their eyes and peered down at us as we drove down Main Street.
"I remember this street," Drake cried, pressing his face to the window, "Pa's circus was here!"
"You're a bright little boy, Drake," I said, hugging him to me. "You couldn't have been more than four years old."
"I was just a baby then. '" ut Tom said—"
Drake suddenly climbed out of my arms and stared wildly through the window. "Is Tom going to be here?
Is he? Is he?"
"My poor darling boy," I said, tears filling my eyes, "Tom's with your ma and pa in Heaven, Drake."
Then I quickly pointed out some of the sights of Winnerow. I wanted Drake to start looking into the future, which I hoped beyond hope would only be bright and cheerful for him, rather than his dark and tragic past. Winnerow had only one main street, and all the others branched off that. In the middle of the town was the school, backed up by the blue, smoky mountains.
"That's going to be your school," I said, pointing to the playground. "I used to be a teacher there."
"Are you going to be my teacher? I've never gone to school," Drake whispered, his eyes wide with excitement and fear.
"No, honey, but you'll have a wonderful teacher. I think you're going to like it very much," I said. "And see that big mountain?"
Drake nodded.
"Your daddy came from there, Drake," I said, pointing to our mountain. "You can see it clearly from the front of our new house," I told him. He stared at it, his eyes intense as though he had been waiting to see that mountain all his short life.
"Did Daddy go to my school?"
"Daddy went there, and Logan and I did, too, honey."
"We might be able to get him in this year, even though he's not quite of age," Logan said. It was the first thing he had said for a long while. "Sometimes they make allowances when you know somebody or when a kid is bright," he added. He looked at me, but I didn't respond. A deep furrow ran across his forehead, a sign lately that Logan was in deep thought. I knew he desperately wanted to find out why I had fled Farthinggale. I hadn't been able to tell him anything about what had happened between Tony and me, because Drake was alert and listening to every word I said. I indicated that I didn't want to speak in front of my little stepbrother.
"Little rabbits have big ears, too," I said. It was something Granny used to say.
Logan, obviously frustrated and impatient to hear all my news, was valiantly trying to make both Drake and me feel comfortable by giving us all the news of Winnerow and the Hasbrouck House. I knew he could tell how upset I was. How sweet and touching he was, trying so hard to raise my spirits.
"I'm afraid I haven't even hired all our servants yet," he warned.
"I think I can get along for a few days without an army of servants, Logan," I said.
"I know that. But it's a big house. It needs looking after, especially now that we already have a child living there."
"We'll do just fine," I said. "Tomorrow we'll start looking for a maid."
"And a cook. I think we'll need a cook," he said. "Not that you can't cook. It's just that—"
"You think we should have one. I know," I said, lowering my voice with exaggeration. "All factory owners have their own cooks." Even he had to laugh at himself.
"I hired a gardener, the gardener Anthony Hasbrouck had," he said quickly. "Just kept him on.
There was a butler, but he's long gone. If you want, I'll have the maid that Anthony Hasbrouck had stop by and you can interview her."
"Good. I'm sure if Anthony Hasbrouck was satisfied, be," I said. He nodded and then smiled.
"I have a surprise for you. I wanted to keep it a secret a few more days, but since things have taken a strange turn," he said, "for reasons I'll soon discover, I'll tell you now."
"What?" I sat forward. We were almost to the Hasbrouck House. Even though we now owned it, it would always remain the "Hasbrouck House" in my mind.
"The factory will be ready for the opening ceremonies in a month."
"Really? That's wonderful, Logan. I can't wait to see the production of toys from the Willies."
"I'm planning a gala affair. I had discussed it with Tony—" My heart leapt into my throat at the mere mention of his name. "Some of the arrangements are already under way. Anyone who's anyone within a hundred miles of this place will be there."
"I see," I sai
d. Although I wanted to be happy for Logan, there was only one thing I really wanted to know. "Is Tony coming down for the party?" I asked, trying to keep the quaver from my voice.
"I know he was planning to. Do you think that will change now, Heaven?" I couldn't help but hear the concern in his.voice.
"We'll discuss that at home, Logan," I said.
Then I cuddled Drake in my arms, and for his benefit I added, "I'm just too tired to talk about it now."
"Of course, darling," Logan said, stealing a glance at me when we stopped for a streetlight. "But I hope you aren't too tired to hear all my plans for the party. It'll be a black tie affair, even though we're holding it outside. I've hired a twelve-piece orchestra to play, and the best caterer in Atlanta. Oh, it will be as elegant as anything ever given at Farthy, Heaven, I'm going to do you proud!"
Even the name Farthy made me shudder.
"Logan, if you want to do me proud, let's have a real Willies party. A hoedown to beat all hoedowns. A party where the artisans who'll be making the toys will feel comfortable. This is not Farthy, and we are not Tattertons.
I don't even want that name to be on our
factory. I want this to be pure Willies, the Willies Toy Factory."
"But Heaven ." Logan looked like he'd just been hit in the stomach. "We can't make these unilateral decisions. Whatever problems you had with Tony, we're still partners with him and it's his money that's paying for all this."
My voice was hard as stone, cold as ice,
"Believe me, Logan, Tony will go along with whatever I want."
Logan drove on silently. I sat and hardened my resolve. The mood was so thick in the car, I felt suffocated, longing to be home, longing to have all this over with once and for all.
Soon the Hasbrouck House loomed at the end of the block. "There she is," Logan said, turning to Drake, putting false cheer in his voice. "Your new home, Drake." We pulled in and up the long driveway that led to the great colonial house. The branches of tall and full weeping willow trees hung over the driveway, creating a tunnel of green.
"It's not as big as Farthy," Drake said when we came to a stop.
Logan frowned. "No, Drake. Hardly anything is, but this is still big. You'll see."
When we drove up, Mr. Appleberry, the
gardener Logan had kept on, came out front to greet us and help with the luggage. He was a small but stocky man whose gray hair grew in small patches over a partially bald head that was covered with the same freckles he had scattered over his forehead and temples. He had a warm face with smiling eyes. Santa Claus eyes, I thought. If he had a beard and a full head of hair, he could play Santa. As long as the red suit was stuffed, of course.
Drake took to him and he took to Drake almost instantly.
"I'll help with all that, Mrs. Stonewall," he said.
"That is, me and the young gentleman here. My name's Appleberry," he said, extending his long-fingered hand, the hand of a man who worked with plants and trees and flowers. "And you are?"
Drake nearly laughed, something he hadn't
done much of since I had taken him from Atlanta.
"I'm Drake," he said. Appleberry took hold of his hand and shook it vigorously.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Drake. You want to take this one?" He handed Drake a small cloth bag and Drake seized it, holding it up against his body with both hands and looking up at me with pride in his eyes.
"Fine. Strong young man," Appleberry said, winking at me.
"Thank you, Mr. Appleberry," I said and we all headed into the house, Logan and Appleberry carting most of our luggage in. I took Drake and one of his suitcases directly to his bedroom.
"Tomorrow you'll start to explore this house, Drake," I said. "It's already getting late and you're tired from our trip. Okay?"
"Very wise move, Mr. Drake," Appleberry said, bringing in the rest of Drake's things. "A good rest makes for a good day. I'll bid you good night, but I'll be around after you've had your breakfast. We've got some leaves to rake, if you are up to it."
Drake looked at me and then at Appleberry. I could see by the look on his face that he was wondering if I would go along with his actually doing real labor. I smiled. Then he nodded quickly.
"Fine, then," Appleberry said and left. I led Drake into the bathroom and washed and dressed him for bed. I heard Logan out in the hall bringing up my luggage and some of his things I had packed and taken from Farthy.
Drake's bed was a wide double with a light oak headboard. The mattress felt hard and new and the quilts were minty fresh and crisp. From what I could see from my quick pass through the house, it had been left in immaculate condition.
After I knelt down and kissed Drake good
night, I felt sorry for him, ripped out of one family and home, taken to another, and then spirited away from that one. Once again he was put to bed in strange surroundings, the toy fire engine beside him, his only tie with his immediate past.
"This is the end of your confused journey, dear, dear Drake," I whispered. "I promise you, this will be your home. It's only right that you be close to the land of your father's roots, even if you will be living a far, far better life than he or any of his relations ever did."
It occurred to me that I could take him into the Willies one day and show him his grandmother's and grandfather's graves. He would see the cabin, even if it was now a modern hunting lodge, and play on the grounds Tom and Keith had played on. Luke probably would never have brought him back here, I thought.
For all I knew, he would have made up stories about his past to hide it from his son.
I left his room and went directly to the master bedroom to tell Logan all. My heart was pounding, for there was so much I had kept from him that I would now have to explain. Shame upon shame that even he hadn't known. How I hated Tony Tatterton for putting me through this.
Logan was nervously pacing the room, and he stopped when I entered. "Well," he said, "let's hear it.
All of it."
I took a deep breath and began by describing what Tony had done to keep Luke away from me, the agreement I discovered in his file cabinet and what he had said when I had confronted him with the information. Logan sat on the chair by the vanity table listening as I paced about and talked. His face was filled with concern, but he said nothing until I paused and sat on the bed.
"Well," he said, "it was wrong, a terrible thing to do. I can understand your anger, but I believe what Tony told you was the truth. I believe he was lonely and afraid of losing you. I can understand his fears."
I couldn't believe that Logan's first reaction was to feel sympathy and pity for Tony. Here I was expecting him to rise quickly from his chair and embrace me, to hold me close to him, and to comfort me for the pain I must have suffered when I learned Tony had bought off the man whose fatherly love I had so longed for. I wanted him to kiss me and stroke my hair and express his anger at Tony for what he had done to me. I craved for Logan to bye me the way he had loved me when I was a nobody, a nothing living in a shack in the Willies. I looked for him to do something that would bring back the flood of memories of how sweet our youth had been because we had had each other.
Instead, he sat there trying to be calm and cool and understanding of another man's cruel and selfish behavior. Oh, I was so angry. My face flushed so red that even Logan looked frightened.
Of course, I understood that he had formed a relationship with Tony that bordered on idolizing him.
Tony had made him feel important and rich and powerful. He thought the world of Tony and his business sense, and it was hard for him to suddenly see Tony as a weak, selfish little man. I knew, too, I hadn't told Logan the whole truth, the whole frightening and shameful truth.
"I haven't told you all of it," I said. "And when I do, we'll see if you are as understanding."
"There's more?"
"Yes, there's more . . ." I took a deep breath.
"More reason for me to have left Farthy. Last night, after Tony and I had our arg
ument and I told him I would leave, he came to our suite. He was drunk and half undressed."
"What did he want?" He nearly cringed in anticipation.
"What he wanted," I said slowly, deliberately,
"was to make love to me. I had to fight him off and slap him across the face to bring him to his senses."
For a long moment Logan said nothing. It was as if he hadn't heard what I had just said. Then he sat back like a tired, defeated man, his chin nearly touching his chest, and he shook his head slowly.
"Oh, my God, oh, my God," he whispered. "I . .
. I should have . . . have suspected as much."
"Suspected? What do you mean? You knew something but said nothing to me?"
"It wasn't something I knew; it was something I thought I sensed. What was I going to say? Beware of your grandfather—"
"Logan," I said, tears rolling down my cheeks,
"Tony is my . . . my father."
"He's what?!"
"My father, Logan. I found out a few years ago, and I never told you because I was so ashamed." The words came pouring out of me. There was so much to tell him, I was heedless to whether or not he would understand. "He raped my mother. That's why she ran away. Oh, don't you see? He's evil, Logan, Tony is evil. He tried to do the same thing to me." Then the sobs came and muffled my voice.
"Oh, Heaven, poor Heaven," Logan said, rising and coming to me to embrace me. "How you have suffered." He held me closely to him and kissed my forehead over and over again. "Oh, Heaven, I am so sorry. Now, I'm sorry." He shook his head and looked down again.
"Is that all you can say about it? You're sorry?"
He looked up sharply. "No. It sickens me. I want to get right on a plane and go back to Farthy. I want to have it out with Tony and make him understand what he is and what he's done. Even if it means wringing his neck," he added, his eyes flashing. This was more of the reaction I had expected and wanted, even if I didn't want him to carry out his threats. At least I felt certain that Logan cared more for me than he did for his new business ventures and newly found wealth and power.
"No," I said. "I don't want you to do that. It's not necessary now. I left him a broken, sick man, surrounded by his- guilt and his sad memories. We'll cut him off from our lives. He will be exactly what he is .
Fallen Hearts (Casteel Series #3) Page 26