Dark Angel (Casteel 2)

"Studying, that's how," I said with a little laugh. "There's so much I thought I knew but I don't. So if Jillian and you don't mind, I'm going to lock myself up in my bedroom and cram."

I heard his heavy sigh. "Jillian usually has her hair done on Saturdays, then she goes to a movie afterward with a few of her friends. I was hoping you and I could make a day of it in the city, doing some Christmas shopping."

"Oh, ask me again, Tony, please do, for there's nothing in this world that I would rather do than visit the main store of Tatterton Toys."

For a moment he appeared startled. Then a slow grin spread on his handsome face. "You mean you really want to go there? How wonderful. Jillian has never shown any interest in it whatsoever! And your mother, knowing we quarreled about that often, took her mother's side and said she was too old to be bothered with silly toys that didn't make the world go around, and didn't improve social or political conditions--so what good were they?"

"My mother said that?" I asked, totally astonished. "She was echoing your grandmother, who wants a playmate, not a businessman. For a short time, when she made exquisite doll clothes, I had hopes one day she'd really become a part of Tatterton Toys."

/> Soon I'd slipped away to Troy's stone cottage, where I wanted to be more than anyplace else. Just to be with him gave me excitement. Why had Logan never made my pulse beat so hard?

While I lay on the thick carpeting in front of Troy's hot fire, I wrote to Tom, pleading for him to give me some advice on how to approach Logan again in a way that wouldn't seem too aggressive.

Finally, just when I believed Tom was never going to answer my last letter, one showed up in my post office box.

I don't understand all your fears. I'm sure Logan will be thrilled if you give him a call, and arrange to meet some place. By the way, in my last letter, did I forget to tell you that Pa's new wife is expecting a baby? I have not heard from Fanny directly, but I still have some old friends in Winnerrow who keep in touch. It seems the good reverend's wife has gone home to stay with her parents until her first child is born. What about you, have you heard from Fanny, or from the people who have Our Jane and Keith?

No, I hadn't heard one word. And here was Pa, blithely making more babies, when he should never want to see another! Not after what he'd done! It hurt to feel that Pa could do evil and never be punished, at least not enough! That little brother and sister I used to feel so necessary in my life were growing fainter and fainter in my memory, and that scared me. My heart was no longer feeling the sharp anguish of losing them, and I couldn't allow that to happen. Troy told me he had contacted his law firm in Chicago and they would begin their investigation soon. I had to keep my flame of anger alive, keep it new and raw, and never allow the passing of time to salve the wounds Pa had delivered. Together again, all five Casteel children all under one roof. That was my goal.

Just as I'd feared, when finally I had the nerve to dial Logan's number, his voice didn't show the warmth and approval that had been there when he loved me. "I'm glad you called, Heaven," he said in a chilly, detached way. "I'd be happy to meet with you this Saturday, but our meeting will have to be short. I have a big paper due next week."

Oh, damn him! Double damn him! I was stung by the cold tone in his voice, the same that his mother had used whenever she was so unfortunate as to find me with hi one and only beloved son. Loretta Stonewall hated me and had made little pretense to hide her disapproval of her son's devotion to hillbilly trash. And her husband had followed her lead, though he had looked embarrassed a few times by his wife's obvious hostility. But I was going to go and meet Logan this afternoon, no matter how cold he sounded. I spent two hours getting ready--I was determined to look my very best.

"Well, what a pretty picture you make, Heaven," Tony sang out when he saw me. "I love that color dress you're wearing. It is very becoming, though I don't remember selecting that one." He frowned a little as he reflected, while my breath caught and held, for it was a dress that Jillian had given me, one Tony had given her, and she had never worn it because she didn't like the style, the color, or the fact that her husband considered his taste better than hers. "On a day like this, dear girl, you need more than just an ordinary coat," he said, reaching into a closet and pulling out a heavy, dark sable coat. He held the fur for my arms to slide into the sleeves. "This fur is three years old, and Jillian has many others, so keep it if you want. Now, where are you going? You know you have to tell me in advance of your plans, and have my approval."

How could I tell him I was planning to meet a boy from my past? He wouldn't know that Logan was different, out of place in Winnerrow. He'd presume he was just any young man in a mountain valley village he'd never seen: uncouth, uncultured, and uncivilized.

"Some of the friendlier girls at Winterhaven have asked me to one of their luncheons in town. And Miles doesn't have to drive me. Nor do you. I've already called a cab."

My heart beat faster, louder, as I told my lie that should have been the truth. Something Tony detected in my expression or tone made his eyes narrow as he weighed my words. Shrewd,

sophisticated eyes that seemed to know all the wicked and tricky ways of the world. Long seconds passed as those observant eyes took in my forced calmness, my feigned assurance that struggled to show only innocence, and perhaps I convinced him, for he smiled. "I'm very pleased you have made friends at Winterhaven," he said with pleasure. "I've heard all kinds of tales about what those Winterhaven girls do to newcomers, and perhaps I should have warned you. But I wanted you to learn from experience how to handle every kind of difficult circumstance."

He smiled at me in such an approving way, somehow I just knew, absolutely knew, he'd heard every embarrassing detail of what happened to me the night of the dance. He chucked me under the chin. "I'm glad you have spirit and fire, and know how to handle things yourself. You have their approval now, even if you think you don't need it. Now that you've been accepted, you can go your own way, with my approval. Be tough. Refuse to be bullied. And be confident with the girls--but when it comes to boys, you come to me first. Before you date I'll have your escort and his family checked out. I can't have you running around with trash."

What he said made me shiver a bit, for it seemed I could have no secrets from him. And yet as he stood there looking me over with a great deal of approval, something proud sprang into my spine and made me stand taller. And something warm and sweet between us made me step forward to kiss his cheek. He seemed very surprised and just as pleased. "Why, thank you for doing that. Keep it up, and I may become just another soft touch."

My taxi arrived. Tony stood at the front door and waved, and I headed for one of the haunts of the B.U. boys, The Boar's Head Cafe.

I anticipated all kinds of difficulties in finding Logan. I even thought he'd pretend not to notice me again, or pretend he didn't know me, for I had not done one thing to make myself look like that shabby mountain girl who was my shame. And then, sitting in the window of the cafe, I spotted Logan. He was laughing and talking expressively to a pretty girl seated across from him. This contingency had never brushed my mind, at least not seriously, that he could be seeing someone else. So there I stood in the lightly falling snow, not knowing what to do now. October had come and gone. We were now midway into November. How nice it would have been to invite Logan to Farthinggale Manor, and before a cozy fire, Logan and Tony would have the chance to get to know each other. I sighed wistfully for all my wishes that seemed never to come true. And then, then, while I disbelieved what my eyes saw, Logan leaned across the table and teased that girl's face with his lips, ending up in a real kiss, the kind that lasted and lasted--kissing her in a way he'd never kissed me!

I hated him! I hated her! Be damned to you, Logan Stonewall! You're no different from any other guy on the make!

I spun on my heel, not realizing the fresh snow would be so slippery. And down I went, flat on my back. Ungainly sprawled, I stared up at the sky, totally stunned that I could have done something so stupid. I wasn't hurt. I refused everyone who tried to assist me up . . . and then Logan ran out of the cafe. His first words proved that this time he knew me. "My God, Heaven, what are you doing flat on your back?"

Without asking permission to help, he put his hands under my armpits and lifted me up. I struggled to keep my footing, and that forced me to cling to him, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "The next time you buy boots, I would try some with lower heels."

The girl in the cafe was staring out, her eyes angry.

"Hi, stranger," I greeted in a husky low voice, trying to hide my embarrassment. I released my grip on him, having found my footing, then brushed snow from my coat. I threw him an angry look that would have stung if looks could stab. "I saw you in the coffee shop kissing that girl who is staring out at us, looking furious. Does she own you now?"

He had the decency to blush. "She means nothing to me, just a way to spend Saturday

afternoon."

"Really," I replied, with as much ice in my voice as I could manage. "I'm sure you wouldn't be so understanding if you caught me in the same situation."

His color deepened. "Why do you have to bring up that? Besides, it was more than a few kisses