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"Oh, Luke, we thought escaping it, going to a fantasy place, would be more wonderful, but nothing is more wonderful than home, is it?" I asked him.

"Not as long as you're part of it, Annie," he said, and reached over to take my hand. When our fingers touched, they entwined tightly, for neither of us wanted to let go. My heart pounded with happiness.

He saw the look on my face, and his face suddenly became very serious. He sensed how deep my feelings were, and I saw that his were just as deep. It troubled him, I knew, because we were both surrendering to how we felt rather than paying heed to who we were.

"I can't wait to see Hasbrouck House," I whispered.

"Soon, soon."

Mile by mile I was growing more and more impatient, more excited. Finally we came upon the broad green fields on the outskirts of Winnerrow, neat farms with fields of corn soon to be harvested. The little farmhouses were all lit up, the families living within them gathered together in the warm glow of lamps. I nearly squealed with delight when I saw the lights of the shacks of the coal miners dotting the hills. They looked like stars that had fallen but had kept their brightness,

And then we entered Winnerrow proper and drove onto Main Street. To the very end we went, passing all the pastel homes of the richest, backed by the lesser homes of the middle class, the ones who worked in the mines, holding down overseer or manager positions.

I closed my eyes when we turned down the street that led to Hasbrouck House. In moments I would be home, but it would be a different home without Mommy and Daddy. I knew that when we pulled into the driveway neither Mommy nor Daddy would be there to greet us . . . no smiles, no warm kisses, no hugs and loving welcomes. The reality washed over me like a giant, powerful wave in the ocean. I couldn't escape from it or hold it back. My mother and father were dead and buried back at Farthy. I was still an invalid. None of it had been a dream.

"Well, thank Gawd we're here," Aunt Fanny drawled as we drove up to the house. "Beep yer horn, Luke, so the servants know."

"Annie doesn't have that much, Ma."

"Jist beep the horn."

She got out quickly and came around to open my door. I just sat there looking up at the house, at the tall white pillars and large windows. I inhaled the scent of the magnolias and for a moment I felt like a little girl again, being brought home from one of our family vacations at the beach, and just as they did then, the servants gathered together and came out the front door to greet us.

Mrs. Avery was all tears, her frilly silk handkerchief, the one I had bought her on one of her birthdays, looking damp and wilted. She waved it like a flag of welcome as she walked down the steps and to the car as quickly as her arthritic limbs would permit.

"Oh, Annie. Welcome home, dear." Aunt Fanny stepped back so she could lean in to hug and kiss me.

"Hello, Mrs. Avery."

"Your room is all ready . . cleaned and polished and aired out nice and proper."

"Thank you."

I turned toward the house to see George sauntering down the steps, moving faster and showing more emotion on his face than I could ever remember. His steel-rod-perfect posture was somewhat relaxed and the smile that usually died three quarters of its way across his lips now drew the corners of his mouth up so high he looked like a cat.

"Welcome home, Annie." He extended his arm stiffly, but his long, thin fingers curled lovingly around mine when I took his hand.

"Thank you, George. it's good to see you."

Roland was at the door, a clean, bright, starched apron around his waist. He was carrying a vanilla sheet cake in his hands and brought it to the car to show me. The top of it read, WELCOME HOME ANNIE, GOD BLESS.

"Roland, that was so kind of you!"

"Est somethin' ta keep my mind occupied, Miss Annie. Welcome."

"Thank you, Roland."

Luke had my chair unfolded and waiting. The servants stepped back and watched as he reached in to scoop me up and out and into the chair. His face was so tight and serious, but when our eyes met, he smiled. It felt so good to be in his arms. I saw how proud he was about the firm way he held me. He was still my prince and I was still his princess.

"You're getting good at this, Luke Casteel," I whispered.

"Just a natural, I guess." He gashed a smile, his dark sapphire eyes brightening impishly, just the way Daddy's used to.

"I'll get the bags," George said quickly as Luke started me toward the house. Roland handed the cake to Mrs. Avery and he helped Luke lift me up the steps.

"Maybe we need one of them ramps, too," Aunt Fanny thought aloud.

"No, Aunt Fanny. I'm going to be walking again before we could even get it built."