Casteel 04 Gates of Paradise (32 page)

"Annie . . I . . ." He looked so guilty. We had passed through that veil between us, crossed that border, violated the prohibition.
"It's all right. I'm happy we kissed," I asserted. He still held me tightly to him.
And then we both spun around at the sound of Drake's voice.
"Annie!"
he screamed. His eyes were wide with shock and anger. I reached back to clutch the walker and pull myself from Luke's embrace. Drake ran up to the gazebo, his shoulders rising along with the fury in his face. He turned on Luke.
"I interrupted an important business trip when I heard what happened at Farthy, and now I'm glad that I did. Seems I got here just in time."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Luke demanded. They faced each other, their fists clenched.
"You and that hillbilly mother of yours had no right . . . no right to take Annie from Farthy, where she was getting the best medical treatment, where she had constant care, day and night, where she had the best equipment, where--"
"Drake, please," I interrupted. "You don't know what went on. I tried to tell you, but you didn't listen. Let me tell you now."
"Tell me what?" He sneered. I'd never seen him so angry. "How you wanted to come back here to play your . . . your fantasy games with him? I thought it was wrong then, and I especially think it's wrong now. But you're not to blame, Annie," he said, turning from me. "You've been taken advantage of in your weakened state."
"No, Drake. That's not true," I cried, but he stared hatefully at Luke, his dark eyes blazing like lit coals.
"I oughta break your neck once in for all," he said, his lips curling up and twisting his face into an ugly grimace, a grimace of hate.

"Maybe you should try once and for all," Luke responded, his face hard, his lips taut, his eyes small and determined, his whole face beet red.

"No, Luke! Drake, listen! I called Luke. I wanted him to take me from Farthy."
They stepped toward one another, both seemingly deaf to my cries.
"You don't surprise me now. I knew you'd turn out bad. How could you be anything else, living with a mother like that? It's rubbed off and it's finally showing itself. I saw the way you looked at Annie all these years."
"Drake, stop!" I was terrified over what he would say next.
"Well, it's going to end right here. It's going to--"
"Drake! Luke!" I pleaded.
The gazebo suddenly spun like a merry-goround. The railing began to turn and turn. The walker began to roll on its own, moving too quickly for me to keep my balance. I felt myself spinning and dropped my head back. Before either of them got to me, I fell to the floor and all went dark.
I awoke in my own bed, a cold, damp washcloth on my forehead. Aunt Fanny and Mrs. Avery were standing beside me. Luke was seated in one corner and Drake was in the other, both sulking.
"I've sent fer Doc Williams. He'll be here any moment. Ya did too much, didn't ya? I knowed it would happen."
Both Luke and Drake turned to look at me, both looking sorry.
"I'm all right."
"We'll let the doctor decide that, Annie," Luke said softly.
Mrs. Avery replaced the washcloth with a colder, damper one. Then Doc Williams arrived and everyone but he and Aunt Fanny stepped out of the room.
He checked my pulse, blood pressure, and listened to my heart. Then he sat back and shook his head, looking from Aunt Fanny to me, his bushy eyebrows lifted like two exclamation points.
"What happened here?"
"I guess she done too much, huh, Doc? We got her outta bed, let her eat at the table. Then Luke wheeled her down to the beauty parlor and she was there a long time, and then she come back and he and her done some exercise on the gazebo with her walker."
"Did you push yourself too hard, Annie? I warned you about that." He shook his short, thick right forefinger at me in mock chastisement.
"I don't think so, Dr. Williams."
"Uh-huh. Well, your pulse and heartbeat are fine. Blood pressure is a little high, but not terrible. Just rest now and don't try to do too much. I finally got your Boston doctor on the phone and he promised to send your reports immediately. From what he told me, though, I think you're going to make a full recovery. It's just a matter of time."
"I know I will, Dr. Williams. Now I feel sure of it."
"Good, Annie." He stood up and turned to Aunt Fanny. "She'll be all right. Let her go easy for a few days."
"You hear the doctor?" Aunt Fanny warned. "Yes, Aunt Fanny. Thank you, Dr. Williams."
"I'll stop by again soon." He smiled
reassuringly and patted my hand.
Aunt Fanny started out with him.
"Aunt Fanny, please send Drake in. I must talk to him. It's all right for me to do that now, isn't it, Doctor?"
"Sure. Just as long as you rest, too."
Drake returned, his face glum, the anger still burning under the surface.
"Please, Drake, come sit here and let me talk to you Dr. Williams said it was all right"
He remained in the doorway. Then he took a few steps forward, but I saw he wasn't going to sit down and listen calmly.
"You can't listen to what old Doc Williams says. The man is just a small-town doctor, Annie. Let me pack your things and take you back to Farthy."
"Drake, the last time you visited me at Farthy, you promised to help me leave if I insisted."
"I just said that because you were so
overwrought from the medicine and all."
"Drake, it wasn't the medicine. The horror began with Mrs. Broadfield. She was a cruel, domineering woman. She thought I was some spoiled rich girl, and she resents rich people. She was terrible to me."
"So . . Tony got rid of her, didn't he? He was about to get another nurse. That wasn't a problem."
"Tony is a problem, Drake. Tony was a big problem. He never wanted me to recuperate."
"What? Now listen--"
"No, you listen, please. Tony wanted me to be there forever. He wanted to imprison me in his dreams, in his twisted fantasies. He was deliberately not letting me do the things I should have been doing so I could get well. He was prolonging my invalid state deliberately so he could keep me in that bed, dependent upon him forever. Why, after I showed him I could get up and out of bed myself, he removed my wheelchair and walker from the room so I couldn't leave!"
"I'm sure he just didn't want you doing too much and hurting your chances for a full
recuperation." He sat back smiling. "Sick people are often impatient with their recoveries and--"
"No, Drake, he wasn't thinking about my welfare. He was thinking only of himself."
"Now, Annie," he said, leaning forward, "I know--"
"He's not well!" I raised my voice and widened my eyes, and the abruptness and force with which I came back at him stopped him cold for a moment. "Drake, he . . . he came to me at night thinking I was my grandmother Leigh when Leigh was a young girl."
"What?" An incredulous smile took form in his face.
"Yes, he wanted to . . to make love to me, thinking I was Leigh."
"Oh, Annie, surely your medicine must have created that ridiculous hallucination. Why Tony's . . . just a lonely old man. And that was why I came directly here," he said, taking on a reasonable tone. "You broke his heart when you let Fanny and Luke sweep you away from Farthy. He was practically crying to me over the phone. He doesn't understand why you left without saying good-bye to him. 'I did all I could for her,' he told me, 'and I would do more, do whatever she wants. I was rebuilding Farthy.' "
"Oh, Drake, why are you so blind to what's happening?"
"I'm not blind. I see a kindly old man eager to help us, giving me an important position . . . promising me the management of the Willies Toy factory here, as well as many other projects . . . someone who did all he could for you medically, willing to spend any amount to help you to get better. That's what I see.
"But I also see my slut half sister filling you with lies just to get you back here so she can live in this house and enjoy all of what Logan and Heaven had, and my perverted nephew eagerly pretending to be so self-sacrificing just so he can . . . can dominate your time.
He didn't waste any time getting you to the gazebo. Your magic place," he added with a sneer.
"He's not perverted, Drake. And I wanted to go there, to the gazebo. I believe in it."
"Annie, you're so vulnerable now . weak, your emotions naked . . anyone can take advantage of you . Fanny filling you with ridiculous lies, Luke hovering over you, touching you . . that's why I want you to return to Farthy where you'll be safe and--"
"Safe? Didn't you hear anything I said?"
Drake stared at me a moment, his dark eyes glowing.
"Luke's turned you against me . . he's filling you with all this gobbledygook about fantasy games. That's why you won't listen to the and--"
"Stop blaming him. You're wrong about him. Luke has been wonderful, caring. He's even dropped out of summer school just to help me."
"You would defend him; you always did. No matter what I said or told you, you found a way to justify him," he accused, like someone who had felt slighted all his life.
"Drake." I reached out for him.
"No!" He backed away from my bed, shaking his head. "Heaven would be on my side. She would. She didn't like to see you with him so much."
"That's not true, Drake," I objected, though I knew it was.
"It is true," he insisted. "She was worried; she knew. Well, I won't remain here and watch this or put up with it. When you come to your senses, call me and I'll drop everything or anything I'm doing, no matter how important, and come down here to fetch you and take you back where you belong. Farthy is yours; it's ours; it will all be ours!"
"But I don't want it! I want what I have here, Drake. Farthy is not what you think. My mother was right. You were the one who didn't listen, not me. It's a . . . a graveyard full of sad memories. Don't go back there. Stay here. Work in the factory here and forget all that, Drake. Please," I begged.
"No. It's going to be mine. . . all mine. Tony promised. He promised. Remember what I told you. When you come to your senses, call me."
He turned and left my room.
"Drake!"
My scream died in an empty doorway. I buried my face in the pillow and sobbed. Drake looked so vicious, so angry. Gone was the kind of look a loving older brother would have. Gone was the softness in his eyes. Now his eyes were burning with jealousy and hate. All the Tatterton money and power and prestige had changed him. It was as if he had sold his soul to the Devil.
Luke didn't come up to see me after Drake ran off in anger, so I didn't know if there had been any more terrible word between them. Mrs. Avery asked me if I wanted to have lunch in the dining room, but I was too upset to be with people, so Fanny brought it to me. I asked her where Luke was.
"He said he had ta take a ride by himself ta think things ova. I didn't git in his way. When a Casteel man gits moody like that, it's best ta ignore him, If ya don't, they jist git mean and nasty."
"I never saw Luke mean and nasty, Aunt Fanny."
"Well. ya ain't seen him mad like I have. 'Course, I give him reason ta be mad sometimes. When he's with ya, he's different. Yer daddy's blood thinned out the hot Casteel blood, I guess, but ya neva know what kin happen. He'll go off and calm hisself down first."
"As soon as Luke returns, please tell him to come see me, Aunt Fanny."
She nodded and left me. To pass the time I went back to my last painting of Farthy, making the changes I thought would portray it more realistically. It was important for me to do that now, to put away some of my childhood fantasies. I added a man coming out of the maze. When I was finished and sat back, I saw that I had captured Troy's eyes, nose, and mouth so well, I was even impressed with my work myself. If ever I had been inspired, I was inspired now.
The work restored my strength and calmed me down, so I decided to have dinner in the dining room. Aunt Fanny came with Mrs. Avery to take me. I was disappointed to find that Luke had still not returned. Although Roland had prepared roasted Cornish hen with cherry sauce, one of my favorite meals, and had made a sumptuous-looking chocolate cream pie, I had little appetite. I kept looking at the doorway, hoping that Luke would arrive. But he didn't.
I watched a little television with Aunt Fanny, still keeping a part of my attention on the front door and listening keenly for the sound of a car driving up to the house, but the hours passed without Luke's return. Finally, tired and disappointed, I went to bed.
I fell asleep in short cycles, waking with a start each time and listening to the familiar sounds in the house, longing to hear Luke's footsteps. Sometime after midnight I awoke because I felt Luke's presence, and sure enough, when I opened my eyes and looked up, I found him standing in the pool of moonlight at the side of my bed, staring down at me.
"Luke, where have you been? Why did you stay away so long?" I cried. He stared down at me thoughtfully.
"I went to the cabin in the Willies, Annie, to do some thinking," he said softly.
"The cabin?" I sat up.
^"
I used to go there a lot when I was younger," he said quickly. Then he frowned, unable to hide the anger that boiled under the surface. "Is Drake still here?"
"No, he ran out. He's angry with me because I won't go back to Farthy and Tony," I explained.
"I was never so mad at him. I was hoping he would take a swing at me so I could swing back," Luke said, his eyes becoming cold and small with determination. Then he must have realized how hard and hateful he appeared, for his face softened and he relaxed his shoulders. "I suppose it's in my blood, and his blood, too. My mother has often told me about the Casteel temper." He sat down beside me. And then he smiled the smile I knew and loved so: his eyes bright, his lips soft. "I wish I was more like you, Annie. We have the exact same heritage, Stonewall and Casteel, yet you're so different, so tolerant, patient and understanding."
"Oh, Luke . . we don't have the exact same blood. Tony wasn't just babbling nonsense when we left Farthy. Modify wasn't a Casteel after all."
His smile froze for a moment and then evaporated. "How do you know for certain. Tony's so confused . ."
I told him all Aunt Fanny had told me. He listened with rapt attention, but nodding slowly as if he had expected to be told something like this someday.
"So you're not my cousin and half brother, too. You're just my half brother," I concluded.
"Annie," Luke said, shaking his head like some tired old man and then sighing, "our lives are so twisted and confused. It seems that you and I have been left to bear all the suffering a never-ending suffering."
"I'll get better Luke. I will," I promised. He looked so defeated, so overwhelmed. He wasn't my old, determined Luke, unafraid of facing the "tallest mountains." If he lost hope and faith, what would I do?
"I don't mean that kind of suffering, Annie." He looked down at his hands in his lap and then looked up. Even in the dim moonlight I could see that his eyes were wet with tears. "I was angry at Drake because he was so nasty to you, but I was even more angry at him because he . . . he said the truth. Annie . . ." Luke took my hand into his. "I can't help myself. I love you, and not like a half brother should love a half sister. I, love you like a man should love a woman."
"Oh, Luke . . ." The walls between us crumbled in dust. My heart rose and fell. I couldn't help it. In my mind when Luke said the words aloud, he challenged the spell. He had done the forbidden and unleashed all the passion that had been waiting hopefully for just this moment, waiting for either of us to give in to what we truly felt.
He took on that familiar decisive look, his eyes fixed on me, his jaw tight. "I decided in the cabin that I would come here and say it all. Drake was right. I did look at you with longing, with passion all these years. No other girl made me happy. It's why I never really had any girlfriends. I dream about you all the time. It's wrong, I know, but I can't help it. That's why I ran away. It's painful, Annie. It's really very painful."
"Luke, I understand." I pulled myself up so that our faces were inches apart.
"Do you?" he asked, with the look of someone who had always known.
"I've had the same feelings, always had them, and they seem to have grown stronger since you came for me at Farthy," I confessed. For a long moment the air between us seemed more like a window through which we gazed into each other's eyes and against which we pressed our lips.