Gates of Paradise (Casteel Series #4)

by V. C. Andrews

  "Pinch me and tell me this isn't a dream, Luke.

  Tell me you're really with me again."

  "It's no dream," he said, smiling.

  "I dreamt it so often and so hard that it still seems that way to me," I confessed. For the first time that I could remember, when I expressed my need and love for him, I didn't blush, nor did he look away. Our eyes fixed on each other. He put his hand over mine and squeezed it gently. Everything in me cried out for him, urged me to say more. I wanted him to embrace me, to hold me tenderly and kiss me.

  "Annie, I worried about you day and night. I couldn't concentrate on anything in college. Everyone was trying to get me to go to parties, to meet people, but my heart was too heavy to appreciate or enjoy anything. I spent a lot of time in my dormitory room composing letters to you."

  "Letters I never got!" It filled me with such anger. If only I had received his letters, my dark and desperate days would have been bright and hopeful.

  "I know that now, but I couldn't understand why you weren't trying to reach me, weren't calling or sending messages somehow. I thought . . ." He looked down.

  "What did you think, Luke? Please, tell me," I begged.

  "I thought that once you entered the rich world at Farthy, you had forgotten about me, that Tony had surrounded you with so many distractions, brought so many new people for you to meet, that I wasn't important to you any longer. I'm sorry, Annie; I'm sorry I had those thoughts," he apologized.

  My heart swelled to know he felt the same way I did.

  "Oh no, Luke. I can understand why you thought them, for I thought them of you as well," I admitted eagerly.

  "You did?" I nodded, and he smiled. "Then you cared, really cared?"

  "Oh, Luke, you can't imagine how much I missed you, missed hearing your voice. I replayed it over and over in my mind, remembering the nice things you said to me in the past. Just thinking about you and the things you have done in your life despite all obstacles gave me hope and encouragement." I smiled. "I went directly for those tall mountains."

  "I'm so happy I was some help to you even though I wasn't there beside you."

  "Well, you were, and I dreamt and dreamt of us on the gazebo again."

  "Me, too," he said, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. I knew it was harder for him to make these revelations than it was for me. Other men might think him soft, even immature. "While I was alone there in my dormitory room, I would imagine us together again the way we were on our eighteenth birthday. I wished we could be frozen into that day forever and forever. Oh, Annie," he said, his hand more firmly around mine, "I don't know how I am going to ever leave you again."

  "I don't want you, too, Luke," I whispered. We were so close now, our lips nearly grazed each other's.

  Aunt Fanny laughed at something she was reading in a magazine and we sat back again. Luke looked out the window and I let my head fall back against the seat and closed my eyes. Luke didn't let go of my hand, and I felt safe, secure, protected and sheltered once again.

  I was excited when the plane finally landed, but after we got into Aunt Fanny's car at the airport in Virginia, I fell asleep and slept most of the way back to Winnerrow. By the time I opened my eyes, we were in the hill country, steadily climbing, winding around and around. There was no fast expressway to take us up into the Willies. Soon the gasoline stations became more widely spaced. The grand new

  sprawling motels were replaced by little cabins tucked away in shadowy dense woods. Shoddy, unpainted little buildings heralded yet another country town off the beaten track, until those, too, were left behind.

  Aunt Fanny had fallen asleep in the rear seat.

  We had soft music on the radio. Luke had to keep his eyes on the road ahead, but he wore a smile of contentment. He looked so much more mature to me.

  The tragedy had aged and changed us both, I thought, even in ways we were yet to discover.

  Seeing the familiar countryside filled me with a warm and secure feeling. I wondered if Mommy had felt the same way when she had fled Farthy with Drake because ofthe things Tony Tatterton had done.

  The world outside of the Willies and Winnerrow must have looked as hard and as cold and as cruel to her as it now did to me.

  "Almost there," Luke announced softly. "We're almost back in our world, Annie."

  "Oh, Luke, we thought escaping it, going to a fantasy place, would be more wonderful, but nothing is more wonderful than home, is it?" I asked him.

  "Not as long as you're part of it, Annie," he said, and reached over to take my hand. When our fingers touched, they entwined tightly, for neither of us wanted to let go. My heart pounded with happiness.

  He saw the look on my face, and his face

  suddenly became very serious. He sensed how deep my feelings were, and I saw that his were just as deep.

  It troubled him, I knew, because we were both surrendering to how we felt rather than paying heed to who we were.

  "I can't wait to see Hasbrouck House," I whispered.

  "Soon, soon."

  Mile by mile I was growing more and more

  impatient, more excited. Finally we came upon the broad green fields on the outskirts of Winnerrow, neat farms with fields of corn soon to be harvested. The little farmhouses were all lit up, the families living within them gathered together in the warm glow of lamps. I nearly squealed with delight when I saw the lights of the shacks of the coal miners dotting the hills. They looked like stars that had fallen but had kept their brightness,

  And then we entered Winnerrow proper and

  drove onto Main Street. To the very end we went, passing all the pastel homes of the richest, backed by the lesser homes of the middle class, the ones who worked in the mines, holding down overseer or manager positions.

  I closed my eyes when we turned down the

  street that led to Hasbrouck House. In moments I would be home, but it would be a different home without Mommy and Daddy. I knew that when we pulled into the driveway neither Mommy nor Daddy would be there to greet us . . . no smiles, no warm kisses, no hugs and loving welcomes. The reality washed over me like a giant, powerful wave in the ocean. I couldn't escape from it or hold it back. My mother and father were dead and buried back at Farthy. I was still an invalid. None of it had been a dream.

  "Well, thank Gawd we're here," Aunt Fanny drawled as we drove up to the house. "Beep yer horn, Luke, so the servants know."

  "Annie doesn't have that much, Ma."

  "Jist beep the horn."

  She got out quickly and came around to open my door. I just sat there looking up at the house, at the tall white pillars and large windows. I inhaled the scent of the magnolias and for a moment I felt like a little girl again, being brought home from one of our family vacations at the beach, and just as they did then, the servants gathered together and came out the front door to greet us.

  Mrs. Avery was all tears, her frilly silk

  handkerchief, the one I had bought her on one of her birthdays, looking damp and wilted. She waved it like a flag of welcome as she walked down the steps and to the car as quickly as her arthritic limbs would permit.

  "Oh, Annie. Welcome home, dear." Aunt Fanny stepped back so she could lean in to hug and kiss me.

  "Hello, Mrs. Avery."

  "Your room is all ready . . cleaned and polished and aired out nice and proper."

  "Thank you."

  I turned toward the house to see George

  sauntering down the steps, moving faster and showing more emotion on his face than I could ever remember.

  His steel-rod-perfect posture was somewhat relaxed and the smile that usually died three quarters of its way across his lips now drew the corners of his mouth up so high he looked like a cat.

  "Welcome home, Annie." He extended his arm stiffly, but his long, thin fingers curled lovingly around mine when I took his hand.

  "Thank you, George. it's good to see you."

  Roland was at the door, a clean, bright, starched apron around his waist. He
was carrying a vanilla sheet cake in his hands and brought it to the car to show me. The top of it read, WELCOME HOME

  ANNIE, GOD BLESS.

  "Roland, that was so kind of you!"

  "Est somethin' ta keep my mind occupied, Miss Annie. Welcome."

  "Thank you, Roland."

  Luke had my chair unfolded and waiting. The servants stepped back and watched as he reached in to scoop me up and out and into the chair. His face was so tight and serious, but when our eyes met, he smiled. It felt so good to be in his arms. I saw how proud he was about the firm way he held me. He was still my prince and I was still his princess.

  "You're getting good at this, Luke Casteel," I whispered.

  "Just a natural, I guess." He gashed a smile, his dark sapphire eyes brightening impishly, just the way Daddy's used to.

  "I'll get the bags," George said quickly as Luke started me toward the house. Roland handed the cake to Mrs. Avery and he helped Luke lift me up the steps.

  "Maybe we need one of them ramps, too," Aunt Fanny thought aloud.

  "No, Aunt Fanny. I'm going to be walking again before we could even get it built."

  "Tha's sure the way ta think, Miss Annie,"

  Roland said.

  He and Luke brought me directly to my room.

  Never before did it look so wonderful and comfortable and warm to me. Tears of happiness ran over my cheeks. I was home, really home. I would sleep in my own bed, be surrounded by my own things. For a moment it was as if all that had happened had indeed been only a dream. That was the power of my room.

  But then my gaze went to the toy cottage and I thought about Troy. It was as if I had grown gigantic and I was looking back at where I had been. I had so much to thank him for. In his own way, he had rescued me, too.

  "Oh, Luke, it looks so wonderful. never take it for granted again."

  I gazed about hungrily, feasting my eyes on all my things. There were my pictures and art materials, organized as neatly as the day I had left them. The unfinished painting of Farthy I had begun shortly before the tragic accident was still on the easel. How wrong I had been about it, I thought. The colors were too bright, the world around it too soft and inviting. It was truly a picture drawn from a fantasy. No wonder Mommy wanted me to paint other things. She knew I was living in a dream world, and sometimes, living in dreams can be dangerous and tragic.

  The only thing that was truly accurate in the picture was Luke. There was nothing imaginary about the way he looked, but more important, I had put him where I most needed him—with me, coming for me, bringing me home.

  "I was all wrong about Farthy, Luke," I said.

  "My pictures were pure fantasy."

  "Don't blame yourself for wanting it to be more, Annie. If we don't permit ourselves to have dreams, the world can be awfully dreary. Maybe now we'll be more satisfied with what we have and who we are," he added.

  "Oh, Luke, I hope so."

  The commotion around us drove away regrets and dark thoughts. George brought in my things and Mrs. Avery turned down the bed. Everyone was chattering at once. Their excitement was infectious.

  "I will help Annie by myself now, ladies and gentlemen," Aunt Fanny announced.

  "Yes, ma'am," Roland said, and everyone left obediently. I saw from the way they responded that Aunt Fanny had indeed taken over here.

  "I'll look in on you later, Annie. Is there anything you want me to bring back?" Luke asked.

  "Nothing right now, Luke. Just yourself."

  "No problem with that. Matter of fact, you'll probably get tired of seeing me. I"ll be like old wallpaper."

  "I can't imagine that." I squeezed his hand. He held his face close to mine and I thought he was going to kiss my cheek, but Aunt Fanny spoke up before he made up his mind to do so.

  "Well, if ya gain', Luke, go! We have work ta do."

  "Sorry. Bye, Annie."

  "I'll call Doc Williams so he kin come right ova as soon as possible in the mornn' and check ya out and tell us what we gotta do from here on in."

  "And see if you can get the hairdresser up here tomorrow, Aunt Fanny. I want to get my hair back to the way it was as quickly as i can."

  Aunt Fanny nodded.

  "But tell me, Annie, what made ya do such a thing?"

  "Tony talked me into it, convinced me it would make me feel more like a pretty young woman again.

  He kept talking about Mommy and how she had done it, and he had pictures of her with silvery blond hair. I missed her so that I suppose I was trying to get her back by looking like her, but I didn't know the sick reasons Tony had for wanting me to do it. He was trying to get me to look like my mother and like my grandmother Leigh. You were there; you heard why."

  Aunt Fanny's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  "I used ta hate Heaven fer not bringin' me ta Farthy ta live with her. I used ta think, here she is surrounded by all them sugar daddies and all that glitter and wealth, but now I understand what she went through. In some ways it musta been harder fer her there than it was in the Willies.

  "I neva realized the real reason she was marlin'

  all about tryin' to reunite the family," Aunt Fanny continued. "She needed her family more'n I did, even though she was surrounded by all them rich things.

  She was also surrounded by crazy loons, too. That grandmother all shut up in her own madness. Tony Tatterton . who knows what else went on there, And we left ya in their hands . . ." She shook her head.

  "It's not your fault, Aunt Fanny. Who could have known? I had the best doctors. Tony was buying everything I needed, including a special nurse. Only she turned out to be horrible."

  I described some of what had happened. Aunt Fanny listened, shaking her head and pressing her lips together every once in a while.

  "I wished she was here now. I'd wring her neck somethin" terrible."

  "Aunt Fanny, you didn't seem all that surprised when Tony announced he was Mommy's real father.

  How did you know?"

  "Shortly before ma brotha Tom got hisself mauled ta death by a tiger in the circus, he wrote me a letta, tellin' me 'bout this conversation he and ma pa Luke had. Tom was all hot and bothered 'cause he found out that Heaven wasn't really Luke's daughter.

  He and Heaven was so close, ya see, it bothered him somethin' awful to learn this and he had to tell someone. Anyway, it seems that by the time ma daddy married yer grandma Leigh, she was already pregnant with Tony's baby. Luke told Tom that Leigh said Tony raped her . . . more'n once, maybe. Anyhow, that was why she done run away from that castle and all that money and ended up livin' in the Willies with Pa.

  She died during the birthin', so none of us knowed her. Heaven always used ta think Luke hated her

  'cause his angel Leigh died givin' birth ta her, understand? I guess there was a lot more ta it, especially when ya consider Luke knew Heaven wasn't his'n."

  "So Tony is my real grandfather, and he didn't just say those things at the end to get me to stay," I concluded, the words now falling with greater weight on my ears.

  "It looks that way, Annie," she said, and then misread the troubled look on my face. "Now jist becuz he's loose in the head don't mean ya goin' be, Annie."

  "No, I wasn't thinking about that, Aunt Fanny. I was thinking about Mommy and how hard it must have been for her to discover all this, too. She never let anyone know, though, did she? And neither did you."

  "No. I neva told nobody 'cept that no account lawya I had during the custody hearin'. It didn't come out 'cause me and yer ma made a deal. We bought and sold Drake betwixt us jist like we was bought and sold." She looked down, ashamed.

  "Whatever you did in the past is over and finished, Aunt Fanny. You've more than made up for it now."

  "Why, do ya mean that, Annie darlin'?" I nodded. "Even havin' Luke Junior with ya pa?"

  "We'll all make the best of what we are and what we have."

  "Well, ain't ya a wonderful young lady." Her face turned sad. "But now ya know I ain't really ya aunt."

>   "Oh no, Aunt Fanny. You will always be my aunt. I don't care what the blood relationships are."

  "Well, I love ya jist as much as I could even if ya was blood related, Annie. I love ya more; I love ya like a daughter, an' Luke and ya are still half brotha, half sista."

  "Yes," I said, and looked of through my window at the roof of the gazebo below. I couldn't help thinking about how much had changed since the accident. My mother hadn't really been a Casteel, even though she had been brought up as one, had lived in that shack and had thought Toby and Annie Casteel were her true grandparents. Even though these revelations were painful and disturbing for me now, I couldn't even begin to imagine what the effect must have been on my mother when she finally learned the truth. It was like losing her whole family in an instant and suddenly being adopted by strangers.

  And then suddenly to be cast as a Tatterton and have to live in that mansion filled with memories that had made her true father jealous and disturbed. No wonder she fled from it with little Drake in her arms.

  Drake! He was not really my uncle, but surely he didn't know, and wouldn't unless Tony babbled the truth to him one day in a fit of madness. I was not eager to tell him. The pain of this revelation must remain enclosed within my heart, I thought.

  I realized I had lost not only my parents, I had also lost my heritage, one of the important things that had linked me with Luke. We no longer shared a past filled with rich stories about life in the Willies, stories about our great-grandfather Toby. I had no past now because mine was linked to Tony Tatterton and I didn't want that link; I didn't want to remember anything he had told me about his father and grandfather.

  I was truly about to start a new life and be someone different. Who would I be? How would it change the way Luke and I were with each other? The future was so unclear, and more frightening than ever.

  I had been dropped into a different sort of maze, and I had no idea how long I would wander about trying to find my way through it. I longed for someone like Troy, someone to take my hand and to guide me. Aunt Fanny was more wonderful than I had ever imagined she could be, but even she was overwhelmed by all that had happened.