Page 24
Story: Fallen Hearts (Casteel 3)
"I'm glad, Logan," I said. We drove back to the cabin so I could pack the rest of the things I wanted to have with me at Farthy, and Logan returned to his parents' house to gather up some of his things. At his parents' request we had dinner at their house and spent the night there. In the morning we started back to Farthinggale, both of us feeling our trip to Winnerow had been very successful. The only thing that left a bitter taste in my mouth was Fanny's lewd display. I expected it would fade away and be placed on the shelf of my memory, alongside other painful and unhappy moments. Let it stay there, I thought, and forever gather dust.
Tony w
as waiting for us at Farthy when we arrived. He sent the servants out to get our things and he, Logan, and I went into his office to discuss our trip and the plans for the factory.
"Logan and I will fly back to Winnerow the day after tomorrow with the architect," he said after hearing all the details. "Then, in about a week or so, we'll go over the first draft specs together. I imagine a good many of the local people got wind of our project."
"Oh, yes," Logan said. "News travels fast in small towns like Winnerow. My own parents probably spread most of it."
"I take it then they were happy with your decision to become part of Tatterton Toys."
"Very," Logan said. Tony turned to me, a self satisfied expression on his face. How could Logan's parents not have been happy? I thought Look how much Tony had showered on him already.
"You did very well, Logan. Very well I think you're going to work in wonderfully here," Tony said. Logan was absolutely ecstatic. He sat back, his head held arrogantly high. "Tomorrow, let me take you into Boston to my tailor and get you fitted for some decent suits. A man with your responsibilities has to look the part."
"That sounds neat, thank you," Logan said and looked to me for my agreement. I wasn't sure I liked what Tony was doing. In a way he was making Logan over into his own image, and Logan, so infatuated with Tony and with himself, too, by now, was easy clay to ply and mold.
"How's Jillian?" I asked, eager to change the subject.
"The same," Tony said quickly.
"I'll stop in to see her. You two probably have more to discuss, but I'm going up for a rest."
"You all right, Heaven honey?" Logan asked. He heard the irritation in my voice.
"Yes, Logan. I'm just tired from the trip. Don't worry about me."
I left him in Tony's hands and went upstairs, stopping first at Jillian's suite. I found that Martha Goodman was not her usual unflappable self. I saw immediately that she was trouble and agitated.
"I'm so glad you've returned, Mrs. Stonewall," she said quickly, almost secretively.
"What's wrong, Martha?" Martha looked back at Jillian's closed bedroom door as if to be sure she wasn't there watching and listening to what she was about to say.
"She's been quite disturbed these past few days, quite different."
"How so?" I hesitated before opening Jillian's bedroom door.
"Well, you know how she's been living in the past, imagining herself young and beautiful again, talking about people long gone and making references to events that have long since passed."
"Yes?"
"She hasn't been doing that these past few days and she hasn't made one attempt to put makeup on her face."
"But Tony. . . Mr. Tatterton just told me she was no different from what she was before we left for Winnerow."
"I'm afraid he hasn't really been here since you left, Mrs. Stonewall. He was out of town for three days and not here much when he was in town."
"Well, what does she do, then, if she doesn't act like she's in the past?"
"It's more frightening . . she says the dead are coming back."
"Because she thought I was my mother, Martha," I said, smiling. "It's my hair color. I'm thinking of going back to my natural color and--"
"Yes, Mrs. Stonewall," Martha said,
interrupting. "But before this, she was always in the same time period. She looked at you and saw you as your mother, but she saw herself as she was when your mother was alive. She was back in the past with you. Now she's in the present, but she swears the people who died in the past have returned. I can't explain it well, I know, but wait until you talk to her. She's very calm, very sensible, but terrified, like someone who has really seen a ghost. She really is somewhat in shock. I must say, Mrs. Stonewall, this is the first time I can remember being unnerved about taking care of your grandmother."
"But Martha--"
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