Read Online Casteel 1 - Heaven by V. C. Andrews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: V. C. Andrews
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not all I think. I think of all the girls I've ever seen, and all the girls I hope to see, the one I see named Heaven Leigh is the one with the potential to be more beautiful than any other. I think this Heaven is exceptionally honest and forthright . . . so if you don't mind, and I hope you don't, I'd like to walk you home every day from now on.”
I felt so happy! Soaring high, laughing before I ran on ahead and called back, "Logan, see you
tomorrow. Thanks for seeing me home.“ ”But we haven't reached there yet!" he called,
taken aback by my abrupt ffight. I couldn't let him see where we lived, how we
lived.
Why, he'd never want to speak to me again if he really knew our circumstances. “On another day, a better day, I'll invite you in,” I called, standing at the edge of a clearing in the dappled sunlight. He was across the small bridge covering our narrow stream. Behind him was a field of wild yellow grass, and the sun had snagged in his hair and eyes. If I live to be a thousand, I'll never forget the way he smiled, then waved and called back, “Okay. I've staked my claim. Heaven Leigh Casteel is, from this day on, mine.”
All the rest of the way home I sang to myself, happier than I'd ever been, forgetting all about my promise to myself that I positively would not fall in love until I was thirty.
“Yer lookin mighty happy,” commented Sarah, glancing up from the washboard with a weary sigh. “Day gone good?”
“Oh, yes, Ma, it went fine.”
Fanny stuck her head out of the cabin door. "Ma, Heaven's gone an got herself a valley
boyfriendan ya know what kind they are.“ Again Sarah sighed. ”Heaven, ya ain't gone an
let him . . . have ya?“ ”Ma!“ I cried out in protest. ”You know I
wouldn't!“ ”She would too!" screamed Fanny from the
door-way. “She's shameful in t' cloakroom with t'boys, really- shameful!”
“Why, you big liar!” I started to go for her, but Tom shoved Fanny out onto the porch, where she fell and immediately started howling. “Ma, it's not Heavenly who carries on. Fanny's t'most indecent- acting girl in t'entire school, an that's sayin a whole lot.”
“Yeah,” muttered Sarah, turning the wash over to me, “sure would be sayin a lot. Guess I know who's t'one who's t'worst, without yer havin t'tell me. It's my Indian Fanny with her wild devil ways, her flirtin eyes that's gonna get her inta t'same mess I'm in soona or lata. Heaven, ya stick t'yer guns, an say no, NO, NO! . . . Now take off that dress, an get t'work on t'wash. Ain't feelin so good lately. Jus don't understand why I'm tired all t'time.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor, Ma.” “Will, when they got free ones.”
I finished the wash, and with Tom's willing help hung the clothes up to dry. When we finished it looked like a yard rag sale. “Ya like Logan Stonewall?” asked Tom.
“Yes, I think so . . .” I answered, blushing several times.
He looked sad, as if Logan might put a wall of difference between us, when nothing could, not ever.
“Tom, maybe Miss Deale will give you another watercoloring set . . .”
“It doesn't matter. I'm not gonna be an artist. Probably won't end up much of nothing, if you're not there to help me believe in myself.”
“But we're always going to be together, Tom. Didn't we swear to stay together through thick and thin?”
His green eyes looked happier, then shaded. “But that was before Logan Stonewall walked you home.”
“You walk Sally Browne home sometimes, don't you?”
“Once,” he admitted, blushing, as if he didn't know I knew about that, “but only because she's something like you are, not silly and giggly.”
I didn't know what to say then. Sometimes I
wished to be like the other girls, full of silly laughter about nothing at all, and not always so burdened down with responsibilities that made me feel older than my years.
Later that same night I gave Fanny a good scolding about her behavior and the consequences. She didn't have to
I felt so happy! Soaring high, laughing before I ran on ahead and called back, "Logan, see you
tomorrow. Thanks for seeing me home.“ ”But we haven't reached there yet!" he called,
taken aback by my abrupt ffight. I couldn't let him see where we lived, how we
lived.
Why, he'd never want to speak to me again if he really knew our circumstances. “On another day, a better day, I'll invite you in,” I called, standing at the edge of a clearing in the dappled sunlight. He was across the small bridge covering our narrow stream. Behind him was a field of wild yellow grass, and the sun had snagged in his hair and eyes. If I live to be a thousand, I'll never forget the way he smiled, then waved and called back, “Okay. I've staked my claim. Heaven Leigh Casteel is, from this day on, mine.”
All the rest of the way home I sang to myself, happier than I'd ever been, forgetting all about my promise to myself that I positively would not fall in love until I was thirty.
“Yer lookin mighty happy,” commented Sarah, glancing up from the washboard with a weary sigh. “Day gone good?”
“Oh, yes, Ma, it went fine.”
Fanny stuck her head out of the cabin door. "Ma, Heaven's gone an got herself a valley
boyfriendan ya know what kind they are.“ Again Sarah sighed. ”Heaven, ya ain't gone an
let him . . . have ya?“ ”Ma!“ I cried out in protest. ”You know I
wouldn't!“ ”She would too!" screamed Fanny from the
door-way. “She's shameful in t' cloakroom with t'boys, really- shameful!”
“Why, you big liar!” I started to go for her, but Tom shoved Fanny out onto the porch, where she fell and immediately started howling. “Ma, it's not Heavenly who carries on. Fanny's t'most indecent- acting girl in t'entire school, an that's sayin a whole lot.”
“Yeah,” muttered Sarah, turning the wash over to me, “sure would be sayin a lot. Guess I know who's t'one who's t'worst, without yer havin t'tell me. It's my Indian Fanny with her wild devil ways, her flirtin eyes that's gonna get her inta t'same mess I'm in soona or lata. Heaven, ya stick t'yer guns, an say no, NO, NO! . . . Now take off that dress, an get t'work on t'wash. Ain't feelin so good lately. Jus don't understand why I'm tired all t'time.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor, Ma.” “Will, when they got free ones.”
I finished the wash, and with Tom's willing help hung the clothes up to dry. When we finished it looked like a yard rag sale. “Ya like Logan Stonewall?” asked Tom.
“Yes, I think so . . .” I answered, blushing several times.
He looked sad, as if Logan might put a wall of difference between us, when nothing could, not ever.
“Tom, maybe Miss Deale will give you another watercoloring set . . .”
“It doesn't matter. I'm not gonna be an artist. Probably won't end up much of nothing, if you're not there to help me believe in myself.”
“But we're always going to be together, Tom. Didn't we swear to stay together through thick and thin?”
His green eyes looked happier, then shaded. “But that was before Logan Stonewall walked you home.”
“You walk Sally Browne home sometimes, don't you?”
“Once,” he admitted, blushing, as if he didn't know I knew about that, “but only because she's something like you are, not silly and giggly.”
I didn't know what to say then. Sometimes I
wished to be like the other girls, full of silly laughter about nothing at all, and not always so burdened down with responsibilities that made me feel older than my years.
Later that same night I gave Fanny a good scolding about her behavior and the consequences. She didn't have to
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