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"Yes, there's more . . ." I took a deep breath. "More reason for me to have left Farthy. Last night, after Tony and I had our argument and I told him I would leave, he came to our suite. He was drunk and half undressed."

"What did he want?" He nearly cringed in anticipation.

"What he wanted," I said slowly, deliberately, "was to make love to me. I had to fight him off and slap him across the face to bring him to his senses."

For a long moment Logan said nothing. It was as if he hadn't heard what I had just said. Then he sat back like a tired, defeated man, his chin nearly touching his chest, and he shook his head slowly.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," he whispered. "I . . . I should have . . . have suspected as much."

"Suspected? What do you mean? You knew something but said nothing to me?"

"It wasn't something I knew; it was something I thought I sensed. What was I going to say? Beware of your grandfather--"

"Logan," I said, tears rolling down my cheeks, "Tony is my . . . my father."

"He's what?!"

"My father, Logan. I found out a few years ago, and I never told you because I was so ashamed." The words came pouring out of me. There was so much to tell him, I was heedless to whether or not he would understand. "He raped my mother. That's why she ran away. Oh, don't you see? He's evil, Logan, Tony is evil. He tried to do the same thing to me." Then the sobs came and muffled my voice.

"Oh, Heaven, poor Heaven," Logan said, rising and coming to me to embrace me. "How you have suffered." He held me closely to him and kissed my forehead over and over again. "Oh, Heaven, I am so sorry. Now, I'm sorry." He shook his head and looked down again.

"Is that all you can say about it? You're sorry?"

He looked up sharply. "No. It sickens me. I want to get right on a plane and go back to Farthy. I want to have it out with Tony and make him understand what he is and what he's done. Even if it means wringing his neck," he added, his eyes flashing. This was more of the reaction I had expected and wanted, even if I didn't want him to carry out his threats. At least I felt certain that Logan cared more for me than he did for his new business ventures and newly found wealth and power.

"No," I said. "I don't want you to do that. It's not necessary now. I left him a broken, sick man, surrounded by his- guilt and his sad memories

. We'll cut him off from our lives. He will be exactly what he is . . a business partner and nothing more. Never again will I think of him as my father, nor should you think of him as your father-in-law. I'm turning away from that part of my life, closing the curtain on that drama."

Logan kept holding me tight, stroking my hair, and gazing tenderly in my eyes. "Logan, we can build our lives here, far away from Farthy and the past. Forget about the factory, forget everything that has anything to do with Tony Tatterton. We can build Stonewall pharmacies into a wonderful empire, all by ourselves. We'll have our baby soon and Drake will be just like your son."

"Heaven," Logan said, letting go of me and sitting up, "I despise Tony more than you can imagine for what he tried to do but--but it's crucial that my personal feelings be laid aside for a time."

"Logan, I don't understand. We can't have that man in our lives anymore!"

"We may not want Tony in our lives, but what about the people of Winnerow, what about the people in the Willies? Without the factory, Heaven, all their hopes will die. And," he said, rising to his feet and nervously pacing back and forth, "and without Tony the factory will die."

"What are you saying, Logan?"

"I'm saying, Heaven, without Tony's capital all our dreams are over. Everybody's dreams are over."

"Logan, I thought you would protect me--"

"I'll handle everything, Heaven. Tony isn't the only one who can play at manipulation." He sat down again, and put his hands gently on my shoulders.

"I know," he said, "that I haven't been what you had hoped I would be. I know I have let you down in many ways, not the least being not paying enough attention to you and our marriage. But that's all going to change now. I swear it. work hard, but the work will always be second to our love and marriage and our family." He patted me gently on the stomach. "Our growing family," he added, smiling. "We'll be together all the time. No more separations, Heaven. I'll make you happy forever, darling. I promise."

"And you must always love and be kind to Drake," I added, fearful that Logan hadn't mentioned him. "He must not be made to suffer for the sins of his father and the sins of other adults."

"He'll be like my own son. I promise." He held up his hand as if to take an oath.

"Oh, Logan." I held him tightly, pressing my cheek against his shoulder. He kissed me again and again and stroked my hair softly. My tears felt like warm raindrops. He scooped me up and brought me to our bed, where he kissed me and comforted me until we both grew tired enough to sleep. I fell asleep nestled in his arms, feeling as secure and as protected as a bear cub, and I was no longer afraid of the morning and the new life to come.

The days that followed were truly days of beginning a new life. I was busy almost every moment, relieved that time passed so quickly, that every hour was filled with something important to do and not something trivial merely to fill the time. Two days after we arrived, I brought Drake to the school. Technically, he was a week and a half shy of the cutoff date for starting the first grade, but Mr. Meeks was more than eager to make an exception. How different he was from the principal I had known as a student and as a first-year teacher. It was almost as if he had never met me before.

Within ten minutes Drake was enrolled in the first grade.

"No problem. No problem at all, Mrs. Stonewall," Mr. Meeks repeated when I told him why I was here. "Whenever a child is precocious, we make exception; and, from looking at Drake, I can tell immediately that he is a precocious young man. I'll see to it."

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