would know the time had come to make our peace.
We would go off together, I and the father I never had, and we would walk, silently at first. Then Luke would begin. He would tell me how bad he was when we had all lived in the Willies. He would confess his sins and apologize for his negligence. He would speak honestly to me and he would finally tell me that he had been unfair to dislike me simply for being born.
He would beg my forgiveness and then I would beg his.
I would beg him to forgive me for my mad
pursuit of vengeance, for trying to look just like his Angel Leigh and haunting him at his circus. And I would tell him once and for all that Tom's death wasn't his fault . . . it was mine
And then we would comfort each other and hug each other while the sun began to fall over the horizon and sink into the sea, and my heart would be so full of joy it would feel like it would bust.
We would walk back hand in hand, renewed,
reborn.
Now I would walk alone and the words that
should have been said would never be uttered.
The tears silently climbed over my lids and began their descent down my cheeks. Logan held me closer to him and we sat there quietly. Curtis brought me some water and then Tony appeared. I wiped my face and looked up at him. He shook his head and sat in the high-back chair across from us.
"It was a head-on crash. A drunk driver crossed the highway and ran smack into them. They were coming home from the circus site just outside of Atlanta when it happened. The lawyer says from the police report it looks as if they didn't know what hit them. The other driver must have been going ninety."
"Oh, God," I said. My stomach felt wobbly. It was as if dozens of butterflies had suddenly burst their cocoons and beat their wings within me. "What about Drake?" I asked.
"Thank God he wasn't with them at the time.
They had a live-in maid and nanny, Mrs. Cotton. She's with the child now. Luke's wife had no brothers or sisters and only her mother is alive, but living in a nursing home."
"I've got to go immediately to Atlanta," I said.
"To make the funeral arrangements and to get Drake.
He'll live with us now," I said, turning to Logan.
There was no opposition in his face.
"Of course," he said. "I'll go with you."
"I've already taken care of the funeral arrangements," Tony said. "Through this attorney."
I stared at him a moment. There were a dozen questions colliding through my mind, not the least of which was why the telegram came to him instead of to me, but I didn't feel like asking questions now. I wanted to set out immediately for Atlanta and get Drake.
"I'll have to contact Keith and Jane and . . . and Fanny," I said. "When will the funeral be?"
"Under the circumstances, I thought it best to be as soon as it can be," Tony said. "Day after tomorrow. Should give us enough time to see to any business problems and . . ."
"I'll meet with this lawyer tomorrow," I said.
"And do whatever has to be done."
Tony stared at me for a moment and then
looked quickly at Logan.
"Don't you think, considering your condition, you had better leave that business to us? fly down to Atlanta and—"
"I'm pregnant, Tony," I interrupted, "not sick or helpless. It's my obligation, my responsibility," I insisted. "I want to do all that I can now for Drake and
. . . for Luke. I want to do it," I repeated, my eyes blazing.
Tony simply nodded. "Whatever, be here to help if you want me. Just call."
"Thank you," I said. "I'd better start calling my brother and sisters. Logan, will you make the travel arrangements, please?"
"Of course," he said.
"Use my office if you like," Tony offered. I nodded and went there to make my calls.
Keith and Jane took it as calmly as I expected they would. After all, they'd never really known Luke.
They both wanted to know if I thought they should come down to Atlanta to attend the funeral, but I thought it was not necessary. After all, what was Luke to them, but a man who had sold them when they were little children. It was more important that they continue working toward their goals, staying in their new lives that were better than anything Luke had ever thought of giving them. They were relieved to hear me say it.
Fanny was another story.
"Pa's dead?" she asked after I told her the details. She sounded shocked, as if she needed to hear the whole story again before it seemed real. "How'dja know he's really dead? Maybe he ain't dead, Heaven,"
she insisted. "Maybe he's just hurt bad. Maybe—"
"No, Fanny. It was a fatal crash. There's no sense getting up false hope."
"Pa . . Oh, Jesus." I heard her sob. "I was goin'
ta go see him soon, let him know how good I was gettin' on."
"The funeral's the day after tomorrow," I said.
"I'm going down tonight to see after Drake."
"Drake," she said. "Poor li'l Drake. He'll need a new mommy now."
"I'm going to take care of it all, Fanny," I said.
"Sure ya are," she said, suddenly turning bitter on me again. "Yer Heaven Leigh Stonewall, the Tatterton Toy Queen. Ya kin take care of everythin'."
"Fanny--"
"I'll see ya at the funeral, Heaven."
I was sitting with the dead receiver in my hand when Logan appeared in the doorway.
"If we hurry, we can catch the next plane out of Boston to Atlanta," he said. "I told Miles to bring up the car."
I ran up to our suite to get what I would need for the funeral. Logan did the same, and in less than twenty minutes we were back in the limo heading toward the airport in Boston.
How fragile, quick, and unpredictable life is, I thought. One moment we were all happy and silly, and the next we were in mourning, saddened and distraught. "Life is jist like the seasons, chile," Granny once told me. "It's got its springs and its summas and ya got ta cherish every moment of the spring when it comes ta ya, cuz nothin' stays fresh and young and pretty foreva, chile, nothin'. The frost gets inta people, jist like it gets inta the ground."
The frost had gotten into me. I felt cold and empty—even now that I was filled with a new life! I shuddered, curled up against Logan, and slept most of the way to the airport and most of the way on the plane. By the time we arrived in Atlanta and got to Luke's house, it was dawn. Even so, Mrs. Cotton was waiting up for us.
She was a tall, stout woman with large, almost manly features. She looked like someone who had done hard manual labor most of her life, a woman aged beyond her years by her hardships. She had dull brown eyes and coarse, dark pink, full lips. She had an old coverlet draped around her shoulders when she came to the door.
"I'm Heaven Stonewall and this is my husband, Logan," I said. She nodded and stepped back. "We came as soon as we could. Mr. Casteel was my . . . my father," I said, thinking that was the easiest way to explain things.
"I know," she said. "Mr. Steine called to tell me all about you. There's a guest room you can use. It's right past the kitchen on the right."
"How's Drake?" I asked.
"He's asleep. Doesn't know nothin' yet," she said. "I didn't think it was necessary to wake him to tell him the ghastryews. He'd be too tired to understand anyway."
"You did the right thing," I said. She didn't seem to need my approval though. She shrugged and started away.
"I gotta get some sleep myself," she said. "The boy gets up very early."
"Oh, look after him," I told her.
"Suit yourself."
"In fact," I said, liking her less and less, "you can leave as soon as you want tomorrow. Just let me know what Luke owes you and—"
"That's all been taken care of."
"Oh?"
"By Mr. Steine," she said. "I'll leave sometime in the afternoon. Got someone pickin' me up."
"Okay." She wasn't wasting any time, I thought.
"Right past the kitchen,
" she said again and went off to her own quarters.
"Sweet soul," Logan said, shaking his head.
"Imagine that as a nanny," I said. Logan took our things to the guest room and I looked in on Drake.
It had been years since I had seen him, but even when he was only a little more than one, I thought he was Luke's lookalike with his huge brown eyes framed by long black lashes.
I tiptoed to the side of the dark pine bed and looked at his tender little face. At a little more than five years of age, he had Luke's ebony-dark hair and deep bronze skin, skin that revealed Luke's Indian ancestry. I brushed a few strands of hair off his cheeks. He smacked his lips and moaned softly, but he didn't wake. My heart went out to him when I thought of the sorrow that had to be made clearly his tomorrow. To lose your mother and your father in one day had to be an overwhelming emotional blow, one from which you can never fully recuperate. I knew.
For even though I'd never known my real mother, I'd always longed for her and missed her. And Pa, Pa, the only father I had known, had been a true father to little Drake. From tomorrow on, he would never be the same, but I was determined to use all my wealth and power to make his life as comfortable and as happy as would now be possible.
Logan and I managed to get a few hours of
sleep before Drake wakened in the morning. I heard him moving about in the hallway and then I heard Mrs. Cotton making his breakfast. She hadn't told him we were here. I heard him ask, "Where's Mommy?"
"Your mommy's not here," she said. I put my robe on as quickly as I could. That woman was not whom I would want to break bad news to a child.
"Where is she?" Drake inquired. "Sleeping?"
"Oh, yes, she's sleeping. She's—"
"Good morning," I interrupted quickly. Drake turned abruptly and inquisitively gazed up at me with his big brown eyes. I thought he would grow to be just as handsome and cut just as manly a figure as his father. Already he had strong-looking shoulders for a young boy, and his face had the same firm chiseled lines that Luke's had had. "I'm Heaven," I said. "Your older half sister. You don't remember me, but I was here many years ago, when you were just a little baby.
I gave you some toys."
He just stared at me. Mrs. Cotton shrugged and went back to preparing breakfast.
"I don't have any new toys," he said, lifting his arms. He was so cute I couldn't help but kneel down and hug him.
"Oh, Drake, Drake, my poor little Drake. You will have toys, hundreds of toys, big toys and small toys, toys with motors, toys you can ride, and you'll have a big place to ride them."
My emotional outburst frightened him. He
leaned back and looked past me down the corridor.
"Where's my mommy?" he asked, worried now.
"And my daddy?"
Logan appeared in the hallway and Drake's
eyes widened with more surprise.
"That's Logan," I said. "He's my husband."
"I want my mommy," he said, getting off the chair, starting past me. I couldn't stop him. I looked at Logan and shook my head. When it ca e to little children, sorrow was like a large wild bird caged. It was too big to live within them.
Drake opened his parents' bedroom door and stood staring at the empty, untouched bed. I came up beside him. He turned and looked up at me, his eyes filled with fear. At that moment he reminded me of Keith when Keith was his age. Keith had such expression in his eyes, too. I took him in my arms and held him close to me again, kissing his cheeks, just the way I used to kiss away the tears on Keith's soft, little face.
"I must tell you something, Drake," I said.
"And you must be a big boy and listen, okay?"
He brought his small, closed fist to his eye and rubbed back the beginning of his tears. I was sure he had inherited Luke's inner strength, Only five and he didn't want to show his fear and sorrow. I sat down on the bed with him still in my arms.
"Do you know what it means when people die and go away to Heaven?" I said. He looked at me funny and I realized the confusion. "Yes, my name is Heaven, but there is also a place called Heaven, a place where people go to be forever and ever. Did you ever hear about that place?" He shook his head. "Well, there is such a place, and sometimes people have to go there sooner than they expect," I said.
Logan came to the doorway and looked in on us. Drake eyed him cautiously and Logan smiled as warmly as he could. Then Drake turned back to me, eager to hear the rest of my story. I saw that he was treating it like a story, and I imagined that Stacie often had held him like this and either read to him or told him fairy tales. Only he must not think of this as a fairy tale, I thought. Somehow, I had to make him understand.
"Well, last night God called your mommy and daddy to Heaven and they had to go. They didn't want to leave you," I said quickly, "but they had no choice.
They had to go."
"When are they coming back?" Drake asked, already sensing something very disturbing.
"They're never coming back, Drake. They can't come back, even though they want to. When God calls you, you have to go and you can't return."
"I wanna go, too," he said. He started to struggle to get out of my arms.
"No, Drake, honey. You can't go because God didn't call you to go. You have to stay on earth. You'll come with me and live in a big house and have so many nice things, you won't know what to play with or to do first."
"No!" he cried. "I wanna go with my mommy and daddy."
"You can't, honey, but they would want you to be happy and to be well cared for and to grow into a fine young man, and you'll do that for them, won't you?"
His eyes narrowed. I felt his arms tighten and his anger rise as his cheeks reddened. He had Luke's temper, all right, I thought. Looking into his eyes, I thought I could look back through time, beyond Death itself, and see Luke staring at me.
"Don't hate me for telling you these things, Drake. I want to love you and I want you to love me."
"I want my daddy!" he yelled. "I want to go to the circus! Let me go! Let me go!" He struggled against my embrace until I released him. Instantly, he charged out of the room.
"It's going to take time, Heaven," Logan comforted. "Even for a boy that young."
"I know." I shook my head and looked around the bedroom. On the small night table there was a picture of Luke and Stacie standing just outside the house embracing each other. How young and happy Luke looked. How different from the man I knew as my pa in the Willies. If only life had been happy for him. then, it would have been happy for all of us.
"We'd better have some breakfast and get dressed, honey," Logan said. "You want to see that lawyer and then go over to the funeral parlor."
I nodded and rose slowly from the bed upon which Luke and his bride had made love to each other and pledged themselves forever and forever to each other. Now they would be lying side by side in the cold, dark earth.
I hoped that I was right; I hoped that what I had told little Drake was true. I hoped they were called to a happier place, a real heaven.
TWELVE
Goodbye Pa
DRAKE WAS STUBBORN AND SULKED.
HE REFUSED TO EAT any breakfast and wouldn't let me dress him. Mrs. Cotton had to do it. It was the last duty she performed for Luke and Stacie Casteel.
Even though he was reluctant to go, we took Drake with us to the law office of J. Arthur Steine, which was located in downtown Atlanta. The sights and activity soon attracted little Drake's interest, and before long he permitted me to hold him on my lap while he gazed out the window. I brushed back his silky ebony hair with my fingers and studied his face.
Stacie had kept his hair long, something I couldn't blame her for doing. It was so thick and rich-looking.
I kissed him softly on the cheek and held him snugly to me, but he was too involved with the things he saw to notice or care.
J. Arthur Steine's office was in a posh modern building. I was surprised that Luke had chosen this firm, because it looked like one associated with big co
rporations and wealthy people. His circus wasn't an insignificant venture, but it was far from being a P.T.
Barnum. He had spent most of his time going from one small town to the next, and with the kind of overhead a circus would have, I was sure he had barely been scraping out a living.
Little Drake was fascinated with the glass elevator, which took us up to the twelfth floor, where Mr. Steine's office was located. The lobby of the law firm was very plush, with two secretaries behind big desks answering phones and typing. There were three law clerks rushing about, giving the secretaries papers to type or gathering up documents. The first secretary on the right was also the receptionist. She asked us to sit on the leather couch while she announced our arrival to Mr. Steine. I had just found a magazine for Drake when J. Arthur Steine came out himself to greet us.
He was a tall, distinguished-looking man with graying temples. His black-framed glasses magnified his hazel eyes. As soon as I saw him, I couldn't help but feel there was something familiar about him. Of course, with his three-piece gray silk suit, the gold chain of his pocket watch dangling out of the vest pocket, he looked like one of a number of Tony's business associates.
"My condolences," he said, reaching out to shake my hand and then Logan's. He slipped his glasses down the bridge of his nose and peered over the rims to look down at Drake, who stared up at him with an almost angry curiosity. He was definitely not a timid little boy, I thought. "This must be Drake."
"Yes. Say hello, Drake," I coached. Drake looked at me and then at J. Arthur Steine with an arrogance I thought quite beyond his years.
"I wanna go home," he stated.
"Of course you do," Mr. Steine said and then turned to the secretary. "Don't we have a delicious red lollipop for this young man, Colleen?"
"I think we might," she said, smiling at Drake.
He eyed her cautiously, the promise of a lollipop softening his resistance.
"Well, why don't you find him one so he can sit out here and enjoy that while I speak to Mr. and Mrs.
Stonewall," Mr. Steine said.
His secretary reached into a bottom drawer to produce a lollipop. Drake took it eagerly and started to turn away.
Fallen Hearts (Casteel Series #3) Page 21
