"That's all I want, Angel. Is that too much of a dream?"
"I don't think so, Luke."
"Ma and Pa think it's as far out of reach as those houses below," he said sadly.
"That's only because it has been for them, but it won't be for us, Luke."
He nodded and embraced me, holding me to him. We stood there with the stars above and before us, two small people alone in the winter night, whispering their love for each other. My baby kicked.
"Feel it, Luke?" I asked putting his hand on my stomach. He smiled.
"I think it's a girl, Luke."
"Maybe. I love you, Angel." He turned to me. "I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman."
My baby kicked again and my stomach felt hard. I had more pain tonight than I had ever had. The last few days, I had woken with pain in the night and even in the morning, but I didn't complain because I didn't want Luke to worry and stay home from work. The pain might only mean it was getting close, I thought, although Ma didn't seem happy about it.
"I think she wants to come out and join us, Luke. It's getting close to the time."
"Well, there'd be no better time than now," he said. "With the heavens blazing so, with all these stars, it's a good night for a baby to come, especially if it's a girl and we name her Heaven."
A sharp pain nearly brought me to my knees, but I grimaced and bore it so Luke wouldn't see and be worried. He was so happy and hopeful, I didn't want anything to change his mood. But I couldn't help being a little frightened, even though I imagined it was expected of any woman having her first child, especially a woman as young as I was.
"Oh, Luke, take me back to the cabin and hold me, hold me like you never held me before," I said. He kissed me and we began to return to the cabin.
"Wait," I said stopping him.
I turned back once to get a last glimpse of the stars. "What is it, Angel?" Luke asked.
"When I close my eyes tonight, I want all those stars to appear behind-my lids. I want to feel as if I'm falling asleep in Heaven."
He laughed and then we made a turn in the forest and they were gone.
EPILOGUE
. I turn the page, but there is nothing more written, not on the next page or the next. Finally, I find a paper folded between the last page in the diary and the cover. I open it carefully, for it is so old, it feels like it would crumble in my fingers if I were too rough with it. It's a letter from a detective agency.
.
Dear Mr. Tatterton,
As you know, I did locate your stepdaughter in
the hills of West Virginia. In my last report, I described the conditions under which she was living and I did report that she was pregnant.
I am afraid I have bad news. Yesterday, my assistant, whom I left on the case, called in to report that he had learned of your daughter's death. Apparently, she died in childbirth. He told me that she did not have professional medical attention and gave birth in her mountain cabin. I am sorry.
He did report that the child lived and it was a girl. I await further instructions.
Sincerely yours,
L. Stanford Banning, P.I.
.
For a moment I can't catch my breath. The air is so stale and so stifling in this old, dusty suite.
"ANNIE!"
It's Luke calling.
"I'm in here, Luke."
In a moment he is in the doorway.
"Everyone who is coming has arrived, Annie; and they're all asking after you. It's time," Luke says. I nod. "What have you been doing?"
"Just sitting here, reading."
"Reading what?" He comes farther in.
"A story, a strange, sad, but beautiful story, my grandmother's story." I hold back my tears, but Luke sees them in my eyes.
"Annie, let's go. This place is haunted by sadness and sorrow. You don't belong here."
"Yes." I smile. How handsome Luke is, as handsome as his grandfather must have been. He reaches out for me and I take his hand and stand up. We start out and I stop.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I say. "I just want to put this back. Somehow, I feel it belongs here among all the other memories." I put the diary back in the cloth bag and return it to the drawer. Then I look around once more and hurry to join Luke.
We descend the great stairway. I pause. I thought I heard a little boy's laugh. I even think I hear him calling: "Leigh! Leigh!"
I smile.
"What is it?" Luke asks.
"I was just imagining my father as a little boy calling after my grandmother to play with him."
Luke shakes his head.
We continue down the stairs and through the great entry hall. Is that music behind me? Angel's birthday party? A piano concert for wealthy guests? My father practicing his Chopin? Or is it just the wind finding its way into the great house? Maybe it's all of it.
I go out with Luke and close the great door behind me, leaving the question and the answer with all the others in the great house of Farthinggale Manor.
Web of Dreams Page 44
