Page List


Font:  

For the first time since I'd known him, he laughed with genuine amusement, and when he smiled at me with a great deal of approval my spirits soared.

"So you weren't impressed by fine clothes and expensive cigars--that's good. You have opinions of your own, that's also good. And you are quite right. Behind every successful man is one who has more than a few flaws."

Then as I sat on my dressing room stool and wished again that Pa had been this kind of man, he spoke seriously. "I heard a weather report a few minutes ago, predicting our first serious snow. We expect to fly out very early Sunday, before the snowstorm arrives. You take good care of yourself, Heaven, while we're gone."

His caution made me feel good. Pa had never said anything like that to me--as if he didn't care what happened. "I wish you and Jillian a safe trip," I said, my throat hoarse and hurting.

"Thank you." He smiled again, then stepped close enough to kiss my forehead, and for a moment his hand lingered on my shoulder. "You look so lovely and fresh, sitting there in your pale blue nightgown. Don't let anything or anyone spoil you."

I didn't sleep much that night. The dinner party had revealed to me the great gap between all the friends Jillian and Tony had and the people I'd grown up with. We were all American-born, and yet it seemed we had grown up in different worlds. And all that food that was wasted, enough to feed ten hillbilly families.

Ames Colton would have called on Sunday, if I'd encouraged him at all, but I didn't want him around. I still had plans to find Logan.

Early in the morning, I heard the motor of the limo driving off with Tony and Jillian. I tried to fall back to sleep. At six I was still awake and waiting for the servants to get up. But they were too far away for me to hear them turning on shower or tub water or flushing commodes. I could sniff and never smell the bacon frying in the kitchen, and the aroma of coffee never drifted this far. Well, I thought, at least I had Rye Whiskey if I got too lonely.

The house at seven seemed bleakly empty and lonely. As I dressed I sniffed the air for the drift of Jillian's perfume that always lingered in the upstairs halls. My breakfast at that long table was a lonely affair, made worse by the presence of Curtis, who stood near the buffet, ready to jump and wait on me, when I wished he'd go away and leave me alone.

"Will you be needing anything more, miss?" he asked, as if reading my thoughts.

"No, thank you, Curtis."

"Is there anything special you would like to order for your lunch and dinner?"

"Anything will do."

"Then I will tell the chef to prepare one of the usual Sunday menus . . ."

I didn't care what was served. Food, when it came on time and in sufficient amounts and always tasted delicious, wasn't the monumental affair that once it had been. Freshly squeezed orange juice was no longer a thrilling treat. Bananas or fresh

strawberries on my cereal were to be expected. But it still thrilled me to see the truffles that Tony so adored sprinkled liberally on my omelettes.

In the library I stood for a long time at the windows, gazing out at the maze. The wind began to gust and make faint whistling sounds, scraping the tree branches against the house. Behind me was a roaring log fire, making cozy the library where I intended to spend the day . . if I couldn't find a way to visit Logan. He hadn't answered my letter, but I knew what dorm he lived in. Already I'd tested the garage door and found it locked. When his wife wasn't around, Cal Dennison had taught me how to drive.

It was Logan who should have run to me, and asked me to explain what happened between me and Cal Dennison. But no, he'd sped away in the rain, leaving me in the graveyard, not even giving me the chance to explain that Cal had felt like a father to me, the father I'd always wanted. And to keep him my father and my friend, I'd have done almost anything! Anything!

A thin curl of smoke spiraled into the air above the walls of the maze. Did that mean Troy was at the cottage today? Without further thought, I hurried toward the hall closet and pulled on my boots and a new warm coat. Furtively I let myself out the front door so none of the servants would report back to Tony that I had broken my word and deliberately set out to see his brother.

It was easy this time to wend my crooked way through the maze, but not so easy to step before his door and knock. Again he was reluctant to let me in, taking so everlastingly long I almost turned around an

d left. Then, suddenly, the door was open and he was there, not smiling to see me again, but looking at me sadly, as if he pitied someone doomed to do the wrong thing time and time again. "So you are back," he said, stepping aside and motioning for me to come in. "Tony assured me you would stay away."

"I have come to ask a favor," I said,

embarrassed by his indifference. "I need to drive into town today, and Tony has ordered Miles not to take me anywhere. If I might use your car . . ."

Already he was seated and beginning to work on small objects he had on his workbench. He threw me a look of surprise. "You, a sixteen-year-old, want to drive into Boston? Do you know the way? Do you have a driver's license? No, I think for your own safety and that of others, you should stay off of icy highways."

Oh, it did hurt to keep letting him believe I was only sixteen, when I was really seventeen! And I was a good driver, at least Cal had thought so. Back in Atlanta they had given girls my age driver's licenses. I sat down without an invitation, still wearing my coat, and tried not to cry. "They are fall cleaning in Farthy," I said in a small voice. "Getting ready for all the festivities coming up. Cleaning windows and sills, scrubbing and waxing floors, dusting and vacuuming, and even in the library where I planned to stay all day, the odors of ammonia seep under the door."

"It's called holiday cleaning at this time of the year," he informed me, looking up, and showing amusement. "I hate a house all torn to pieces as much as you do. One of the pleasures of having a small house like this is that there is no need for servants to invade my privacy. When I put something down it stays there until I pick it up again."

I cleared my throat, pulled myself together, and then approached the object of my visit again. "If you won't allow me to drive your car, would you be so kind as to drive me into town yourself?"

He was using a tiny screwdriver to fasten miniature legs to tiny bodies. How intense he was about his toymaking! "Why do you need to go into town?"

If I told him the truth, would he report it to Tony the minute he was back? I sat tense and considering as I studied his face. It was one of the most sensitive faces I'd ever seen. And from all past experiences, only those completely insensitive were cruel. "I have a confession, Troy. I am very lonely. I have no one to share in my successes but Tony. Jillian doesn't care what I do, or don't do. There is a friend of mine who attends Boston University that I would like to visit."

Again he glanced my way, appearing guarded, as if somehow I was getting to him, and he didn't want that to happen. "Can't you wait until some other day, when you are in Winterhaven? B.U. isn't so far from there."


Tags: V.C. Andrews Casteel Horror