Thanks to all of you for reading or favouriting! It makes my day!

Disclaimer: I still don't own VC Andrews, Leigh, Tony, Troy and crew. (And particularly not Jillian.)


Despite Mother and Tony being back for the holidays, Christmas felt flat. Oh, I had a good time with Troy, and privately, I was happy to see Mother again. But Christmas with both my parents had always been a time of fun, of presents and comfort. It seemed as though everyday was filled with visits from friends to share the easy companionship we had, and were happy to share. But here at Farthy, Mother and Tony went out often to fancy parties and left me at home alone. Or, even worse, we did have some parties that holiday. But they were so different! Those highly-hosted affairs of wealthy, jewel-bedecked people intent on consuming equal portions of champagne and malicious gossip could not hold a candle to the joyous, fun-filled gatherings I remembered from home.

Outside, the lawns were still a winter fairy land, with tall fir and pine trees as dark smudges of green against the white, white snow. During the day I tried to stay outdoors as much as possible, with Troy to play with. But Tony eventually forbad Troy to accompany me on the coldest days.

"My brother has always been sickly," Tony explained one afternoon, when we had to hear Troy's wailing protests all day before his nanny Bertie put him down for a nap. "I was seventeen when he was born, and since then I've feared that one disease or another would carry him off. So I'm sorry, Leigh, but it is simply too cold to let him outside today."

I understood, and I would never have wanted Troy to be sick; and yet I resented Tony's overbearing care. Troy had been outside with me in the days leading up to Christmas, when it had been at least as cold, and he'd been fine! He'd been happy; a far cry from the angry little boy I saw now when Tony placed restrictions on him.

Tony and I had a difficult relationship. I couldn't forget my feelings of resentment toward him over the demise of my parent's marriage. But I tried to stay calm when I was around him, or to simply ignore him as much as possible. But even I could not ignore that he seemed different than he had before the wedding. On the outside, he looked the same. His thick blond hair fell in casual waves, and his face was as handsome as ever. But his cheerful, easy smiles had decreased rapidly after their return from their honeymoon and his blue eyes often seemed empty, and completely drained of emotion.

Because Tony didn't want Troy to go outside with me, I spent more time indoors with my little brother, coloring pictures and playing with his toys. I had always had a lot of toys as a child. My room back home was still peopled by dolls; dolls from all the places we had traveled to, as well as my beloved Betsy Wetsy, the Chatty Cathy who would actually talk back to me, and my Patti Playpal, who had once been my exact size, and currently still sat in the corner of my room, wearing my favorite pink dress from when I was 3. I had a dollhouse, large and multi-roomed that took up nearly an entire wall, and for years, there was a train track that ran all around not only my room, but throughout all our hallways. With those toys in my memory, I had never thought about the sheer amount of toys that Troy had; indeed, it had made perfect sense that the heir to the Tatterton empire had a full playroom the size of my old living room all to himself, but for awhile I didn't realize that he had actually designed some of the items himself.

"Oh, he didn't make the actual design," Tony told me after Troy had gone to bed and I had remarked on his toys, for the lack of anything better to say. It was the evening before I was to return to Winterhaven and we'd found ourselves alone in the study. I stared at him, surprised, that the little fire engines I had spent the last hour rolling on the floor had been designed by a three year old.

"He had the idea, and I had him describe what he wanted to some of the sculptors. They, in turn, were the ones who managed to work Troy's idea into reality. They're selling quite well in the store already," Tony added. His face was full of pride in his brother, and I wholeheartedly agreed.

"He's brilliant," I said. I was wearing a black dress with one large white flower embroidered over my left hip, and my brand new, tall black leather boots that came up to my knees. Rather than sit on the sofa next to Tony, I sat on the floor near the fireplace, legs stretched out in front of me. I flexed and pointed my toes, mesmerized by my lovely, lovely boots. I looked up to see Tony beaming at me.

"He is brilliant, and he acts so much older than his age. Except emotionally, of course. Emotionally, he is still so young, so fearful of being alone."

"Well," I said, without thinking as I turned to the fireplace, feeling my cheeks turn pink from the heat even as my back chilled, "he doesn't have to be alone. I'm here, and I want to be a good sister to him." It was an odd moment right then. Tony cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Mother came into the room. All at once he stood up respectfully, and as I watched, a myriad of emotions chased across his face. Surprise. Pleasure. And then…the merest hint of revulsion? Before I could think too much about that, he was smiling widely again, his eyes greedily sweeping over her face, and the rich curves of her body subtly accentuated by her sable brown dress.

"Tony, darling." Mother held out her hands to him and he kissed the tips of her fingers before pulling her to him.

"Jillian." Tony smiled down at her with such intensity it made me shiver. In a moment, he made it seem that they were the only two people in the world. I could tell that my presence was forgotten as they kissed, and I slipped from the room to continue packing.

The best thing about going back to school was finally feeling like I belonged again. The holidays had served to wipe Mother's divorce and remarriage from most people's minds… and if I still had Charity circling me like a shark to plead friendship, this seemed inconsequential. I no longer despised her the way I had a few months ago, but she was certainly never going to be a friend again. So I treated her, and the rest of the girls with a quiet respect, and was relieved to find they treated me the same way. The only one who still didn't speak to me beyond ordinary politeness was Jenny; but even that didn't upset me the way it had before. I still hoped, deep in my heart that one day, Jenny and I would be friends again. I just had to be patient.

Near the end of February, a brief warm spell melted the last remnants of snow upon grounds, and as I ran from class to class in their different buildings, I took deep breaths of the crisp air, warned by the pale wintertime sunshine. Daddy, ever repentant of his work responsibilities, kept going between Boston and New York, so I saw him when I could. But since I had promised Troy I would see him any weekend I didn't have work to do, or to see Daddy, that warm Friday afternoon saw me tucked up in a limo and driving back to Farthy.

Even last year, whenever I returned home from school, I always expected things to be the same as when I left. But that weekend was a surprise, on so many levels. I thought I knew Farthinggale Manor after those few months, but that weekend I entered a different Farthy than I'd ever seen before. My new home had always been pristine, opulent and spotless, populated only by Mother and Tony, with Troy staying in his own rooms. But this time, the house was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried around, frantically dusting and shining already spotless tables and chairs, straightening curtains and fluffing cushions. I wandered upstairs to find Mother, dashing from room to room. Her color was high leaving bright pink patches on her cheeks, which only served to make her hair look more luminous and her eyes even bluer.

"Leigh! Oh, Leigh dear, there you are!" She gave me a brief hug, and then stepped away, running a distressed hand over her hair. "Something terrible has happened!"

Instantly, I thought of Daddy. Had something happened to him? My bag slid off my shoulder to thump against the ground at my feet, and I grabbed her hand.

"Your grandmother is coming to visit," Mother announced in a flat, doom-laden voice. And oh, I understood everything. Grandma Jana had always brought out the worst in Mother. For reasons I never understood, they had never gotten along. Neither one had ever told me what it was they didn't like about each other, but every visit from her brought out Mother's worst, angry side.

As for me, I had no problems with her. Grandma Jana was a tiny, wispy scrap of a woman, with a leather tough attitude and sharp tongue that belied the delicacy of the pale blonde hair and blue eyes Mother and I had inherited from her. She was different from Mother, so very different from anyone else I knew in Boston. But I had often visited her on her ranch in Texas during the summers and I loved her dearly. My Grandma was the one who taught me to ride my first pony, and who encouraged me to climb trees and play in the mud… all the unladylike behaviors Mother deplored. Sometimes, I wondered where Mother had learned her airs from. It certainly wasn't from her Mother.

The deep gong of the front door rang, and Mother scattered to primp one final time. I ran down the stairs to answer the door, even before Curtis could get there and flung the doors open.

"Grandma!" I cried, throwing my arms around her. She hugged me back, hard, before drawing back to look at me.

"Well, look at you. My granddaughter is growing up, becoming a young woman. But what is that you're wearing?"

I shrugged, looking down at myself. I was wearing a pink dress with a ribbon-edge flounced hem that fluttered as I moved.

"I like it," I answered. "And it's a winter dress, Grandma. See," I said, rubbing the fabric of my skirt against her fingers, "its cashmere, so it's very warm, really!"

Grandma narrowed her eyes at my bare knees. I wore my favorite high boots, the tan ones with the flowers embroidered up the sides in shades of brilliant pinks and violets and blues, but no stockings. "It's so cold up here in Boston, I don't know how you wear such flimsy little things. Now, let me come into this house.

"My," Grandma's eyes cast a quick look around, "it's like a museum in here." I swallowed down a giggle. I had forgotten the realities of Grandma's sense of humor and swift tongue. "Where is that daughter of mine?"

On cue, Mother descended gracefully down the stairs. Her pink dress, close in color to mine was high necked, and the hem was a soft ivory lace. Glittering on her ears, and around her neck were the diamonds Tony had bought her for Christmas.

"Jillian. You're looking well." Grandma's voice stated that she felt it would be justice for just the opposite to be true, and that vaguely resented Mother was radiant in her pink dress and her diamonds.

"As are you," Mother said, inclining her head regally. As she stood there, Tony and Troy came up behind her, and she formally introduced Grandma to her new family.

"You have to see the house," Mother said. Still standing on the stairs with Tony behind her she looked very intimidating.

Tony smiled, charmingly. "Come, Jana," he said descending the last step. "Curtis will see your bags to your rooms. We'll all take you on a tour."

And tour we did. Grandma took in everything, from Mother's murals in the music room, to the beautiful wallpapers, velvety plush carpets and gleaming floors, and didn't say a word until we ended up at her door.

"That's a mighty impressive house, Mr. Tatterton."

"Tony, please," he interrupted with a smile.

"Tony." Her lips quirked into the semblance of a smile. "But if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired after a long day of travel. If my daughter will help me get settled?" Grandma flashed her blue eyes to Mother, who stood frozen… and then more frozen still as Tony took his leave, shuttling Troy with him.

"Leigh, dear, I'll see you at dinner." Grandma brushed her lips, soft and slick with her normal peach lipstick over my cheek before throwing open her doors and storming in.

"Jillian!" she called imperiously and Mother, unfrozen at last, scurried in her wake.

I never knew what happened between Mother and Grandma in that hour, but when we met at the dinner table, everything felt very strained. Tony smiled at Grandma, asking her questions about how she ran the ranch, and the various horses she had bought lately for it. Troy sat, miserably poking at his salad and chicken. I knew he hated when he had to sit at the table with the grownups, and I tried to catch his eye and slip him a smile.

"How long are you planning to stay," Mother suddenly broke in, interrupting Grandma's description of a pair of new bay horses she had bought.

"I haven't thought about it," Grandma said, neatly wiping her mouth and leaning back in her chair.

"When is your return ticket for?" Mother asked, a hard edge creeping into her voice.

"I bought an open ticket," Grandma responded. "I can stay a few days, or a few weeks."

Silence followed her words. Tony, Troy and I had our heads swiveled in Mother's direction, as attentive as though we were watching a tennis match to hear what her response would be.

Mother stood up gracefully from the table. "If you will all excuse me? I don't seem to have much of an appetite." She swept out of the room, without a backward glance. I looked at Grandma, and saw a small, pleased smile on her face before she looked back down at her plate.

Troy had been pestering me, week after week since Christmas to take him out horseback riding, and I had promised that when the weather grew warm, we would go. That Saturday morning, I was awakened by a small, tentative knock on my bedroom door, which opened immediately after to show Troy peering into my room.

"Leigh? Are you awake?"

I sat up, brushing back my hair from my face and smiling. "I'm awake now" I called, and my little brother ran in the room and jumped up onto my bed.

"Can we go riding today, Leigh? Please," he begged. "You said when it was warm out, and it's warm today!"

"And sunny," I remarked, squinting in the sunlight streaming in the window. It looked like today was going to be a beautiful day; one of those warm winter days that Mother Nature reserves to remind us that summer will come again, even during the height of winter.

"I think riding would be perfect," I said. "Let's get dressed, and have some breakfast and then we can go."

But it took longer than I'd expected to get ready. Grandma, always an early riser was at breakfast and took the time to ask me about school and my friends. Tony, also at breakfast, cheerfully interrogated me about where Troy and I would ride, and cautioned me to be careful.

"Remember," he said, "Troy has only just started horseback riding, and isn't really comfortable yet."

"It's fine," I answered stiffly. "I thought we'd go for a short ride, and I'll hold him on the horse with me. He won't be alone there."

"But you've never done that before, have you?" Tony persisted. He flashed his lightening quick smile at me, but I refused to smile back.

"My granddaughter is a born horsewoman," Grandma said proudly, resting her hand on mine. I squeezed her hand, grateful for her support. "When she visited me last year, I even trusted her teaching beginning riding lessons to my neighbor's children. She can be trusted with Troy."

Tony looked at both of us, and then smiled. "It's those eyes," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "You have the same eyes as Jillian. And I can't deny anything to those eyes.

"Leigh, you have my blessing to take Troy riding." Troy whooped with glee and ran from the table to get dressed.

Grandma and I returned upstairs, and she helped me brush my hair after I got dressed.

"I had hair like this," she said, as she gently smoothed the brush down my pale gold hair, teasing out the tangles. "Long ago, my hair was as beautiful as yours." I laughed, a little giddy with the joy of having my Grandma with me. Every time I saw her, she always said the same thing. "Goodness, child, your hair has gotten so long!" I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensations of her fingers weaving my hair into a long braid down my back. When she finished, she put her arms around me and hugged me, tight.

"It's been a lot of changes for you since I saw you last year. Are you happy here, Leigh?" she whispered in my ear.

I hesitated. "I'm not unhappy," I said finally. "Farthy is very big, and very grand… And I've always wanted a little brother," I gamely continued, biting my lip. Deliberately, I didn't mention Tony.

Grandma nodded, her cheek pressed against mine. And that's how we were when Mother walked in a moment later.

"Leigh, dear…" Mother paused in the doorway of my sitting room, and Grandma and I both turned to her.

"Why, Leigh dear, you're dressed for riding," Mother said. Her blue eyes raked over my cream colored fitted jacket and dark jodhpurs, my helmet beside me on the vanity.

"Very good, Jillian," Grandma said. "I see these half day naps of yours don't dull your intellect." Mother frowned at her, crossing her arms. Even having just woken up, dressed in a peach negligee and matching mules, with her hair soft and loose, still her face was flawlessly made up. She frowned a little harder, a crease appearing between her eyes.

"I'm surprised Leigh is going riding, today of all days," she said. "After all, Mother, you are here, and I was certain Leigh would want to spend time with her Grandmother."

The look she gave me then was both angry, and pleading. I understood what she was saying, without saying it. She wanted me to stay inside today, to stay with Grandma so Mother would not have to worry about occupying her. But I had promised Troy. And I was looking forward to riding. Ever since I was a little girl, I had been on ponies, both in Texas and at home in Boston; and because of my anger about Mother and Tony and Daddy, I hadn't been riding for a long time.

"Nonsense," Grandma said. "I don't mind my granddaughter going out for a ride. It gives me a chance to talk to my daughter." Seemingly unconcerned by the terror in Mother's eyes, Grandma kissed my cheek, handed me my helmet and pushed me out my room in one swift movement.

Bang! The door shut behind me. Before I had even taken a step, I could hear voices raised on the other side.

"It's time for you to explain yourself and your behavior, Jillian." Oh, Grandma's voice was cutting, and I winced. And then, despite myself, I huddled closer to the door, pressing my ear against the crack to listen. A long time ago it seemed, I had been raised to know right from wrong… and I knew what I was doing then was wrong, so very, very wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to know what Grandma was going to say; if she was going to ask Mother why she had divorced Daddy (who Grandma had always liked), if she was going to say something about Tony… So I listened, and could hear their voices, faint and angry through the heavy wooden door.

"You leave me to hear about this whole situation from Tallulah and Mimi's gossip?" Grandma was yelling. "You didn't think to tell me yourself?"

"I knew my sisters would tell you. And that you would tell me I was wrong." Mother sounded sulky, and I could picture her pacing in my sitting room, cheeks pink with shame and irritation, twisting her fingers around and around.

"Damn right I think you're wrong. You were happy when you married Cleave all those years ago. Became a businessman's wife, married to one of the oldest names in America, and tried to forget your roots of a simple Southern girl. You always put on airs, Jillian. 'No, I won't clean the stables. It'll ruin my nails.' 'No, I can't stay outside to exercise the horses. My complexion, in all that sun!' I should never have introduced you to Cleave, but I did, and you married him and ran away to live your spoilt, privileged life."

"You did nothing for me!" Mother screamed suddenly. "You never understood me, and you never loved me! You resented my beauty, wished it was yours instead! And you never understood the things my soul yearns for, just because they're different from what you know!"

Grandma snorted. "Your beauty is meaningless, my girl. Beauty is skin-deep, and fades with each passing year. Look at me," she commanded. "Once, I was as young as you, Jillian, and I was every bit as beautiful. And see where it has gotten me? Widowed these years since your father died. If it wasn't for my strength, and my work at running the ranch, we would have had nothing!

"Your soul," she continued sarcastically, "yearns for money and beauty, power and prestige. You were the youngest and your father spoiled you. You trade off your looks and have never leaned the benefit of hard work. I don't know how I raised such a spoilt, selfish child! You have never learned to love anything but yourself, and I pity your husbands, both of them, for loving your image and never knowing the lack of a person it conceals."

My knees were shaking, and my stomach was tied in knots. I backed away from my door, but not before I heard Mother's whispered response, her soft voice gruff with pain.

"I love Leigh," Mother said, softly. I could hear the tears in her voice, and unconsciously, I began to blink my own eyes to hold back my own tears. "I love my daughter."

I have never thought I would be so grateful for the carpeting in Farthy's hallways, as I ran to Troy's rooms. The air cooled my hot cheeks, and by the time I was at Troy's door, I had managed to blink the tears from my eyes, and smile down at him when he excitedly flung open the door.

"I've been waiting!" he cried, holding his arms up to me.

"No, Troy," I said laughing a little, reaching out instead to hold his hand as we walked down the hallway, out the back doors closest to the stables. "I'm not carrying you today."

His little voice, childish and piping both soothed my soul and grated on my nerves as the grooms helped us onto my horse, Pansy, and I put my arms around Troy to grip the reigns. In his few moments of silence, I kept reliving the fight I'd heard between Grandma and Mother. But then his excited chatter would start up again, and I would try to listen as he made up stories about the trees, and the wind, and told me stories he remembered Tony had told him about past Tatterton ancestors.

But finally a moment came when even my little brother fell quiet and the voices I wanted to forget came back to me. Mother's tear-filled admission that she loved me played over and over in my mind, until I thought I would scream. In frustration, in trying to forget, I did what was natural to me when I was riding. I shifted my weight forward and immediately the horse began to trot faster, then canter, and then into a smooth, ground eating gallop. It felt like flying, flying over the dead grass underfoot and through the trees. Flying into the cool winter air, that felt much colder when we were moving so quickly through it. My mind cleared, and I felt my anxiety lessen until I heard a small sob, looking down to see Troy still resting against me, face screwed up in fear, tears welling up in his eyes. Immediately I stopped, just in time for him to burst into noisy sobs.

"Troy!" I cried. I sat back and Pansy slowed to a walk, her hooves making soft thumps beneath us. As soon as I could, I climbed off, then lifted Troy down after me. He was still crying, his dark eyes welling tears and his small face wrinkled up in agony.

"Troy, what's wrong?" I asked. I asked over and over, but he didn't answer until I finally sat down at the base of a tree, and pulled him into my arms. In story books, this would have been the time to croon a song, but even though I loved to sing, I couldn't carry a tune if it were in a bucket. I patted his back, whispering 'it's ok, it's ok, it's ok,' until Troy finally stopped crying.

"I was scared," he finally whispered. "We were going really fast."

"Troy, I'm sorry," I said. "I just wanted… I love how it feels when I ride. I love feeling that I'm flying away from my problems." I brushed my fingers through his hair, feeling his breathing slow. "I've been so sad, Troy, and I was trying to run away from what made me sad. I'm sorry I scared you."

One little finger traced the tear that fell down my cheek, and I looked down at my little brother. His eyes, huge and dark were looking into mine seriously.

"Why are you sad?" he asked.

I sighed. "There are a lot of things that make me sad. I'm sad that my Mother and my Daddy don't live together anymore. I'm sad that my Daddy is so far away, and I can't see him. I'm sad because even though Farthy is nice, it's not my home."

Troy's fingers, small and cold, twisted around mine. "Are you sad about me?"

"Oh, no," I said. I hugged him close to me, and he rested his head against my shoulder. "I've always wanted a brother. Troy," I said, meaning every word, and hoping that despite his tender years, he could understand, "you are the only thing that makes me really happy. I love having you for a little brother."

I don't know what suddenly prompted me how late it was. We had left in the early afternoon, and it had been a long ride, even without my burst of speed. Around us, the light was fading, and the trees being dark, ominous shadows around us. I quickly stood up, and got us back on Pansy to start the ride home.

We had ridden perhaps quarter of an hour in silence when Troy finally spoke. "I was sad too, when Tony said he was marrying Jillian, so I could have a new Mommy. But I'm not sad now," he said confidentially.

"Why aren't you sad?," I asked. Hoping that Troy was so occupied with talking that he wouldn't notice, I urged Pansy a little faster. It was getting darker, and so much colder that our breath was coming out in white puffs when we spoke, and I knew it would be almost fully night before we got back.

"Tony asks me every night what I want, a brother or a sister. But I said that I have you, so I don't need another sister. A brother will be good.

"So you don't have to be sad, Leigh! Soon you'll have me, and a new brother to make you happy."

A baby… a new brother. The idea had never occurred to me. It made sense. People get married, and they have children. But I had never thought of Mother… of Mother and Tony…!

The world slowed with Troy's words. The only sensations that of the wind streaming past us, and the ever-darkening woods; of Troy's slight weight leaning against me and Pansy's hooves striking the ground beneath us.

So soon, much sooner than I'd expected, we were back at Farthy. Nervous stable hands instantly surrounded us, and Tony ran over.

"Leigh! Troy! I was so worried!" Tony lifted Troy down, and then returned to help me. The cold hit me abruptly once I was off Pansy's warm back, and I shivered. Just then, Troy sneezed. It was a small sneeze, but Tony reacted in an instant, frantically issuing commands for Troy to be taken inside, and put into a warm bath.

"Leigh, I trusted you," Tony said later. I was perched on a chair next to Grandma in Troy's room, watching anxiously as my little brother sat up in bed, with a thermometer in his mouth. Tony paced back and forth. His pale blue shirt was mussed, and his collar standing up as he walked.

"I didn't mean for us to come back so late," I protested. "We were riding, and stopped to talk…" I bent my head so my hair fell into my face. So many thoughts were flying around my head, so many feelings running riot through my body. Grandma put her arm around my shoulder, and I leaned against her gratefully. It was so nice to feel someone was there for me.

"If I know my granddaughter," Grandma said, "she got so caught up with riding, she didn't even notice the time." She stood up then, taking the thermometer from Troy's mouth to check his temperature.

"Troy is fine," she announced. "Tony, you worry too much."

Tony stopped mid-step and looked around the room frantically. "Where is Jill?" he demanded. "She is Troy's mother; she should be here."

Grandma's lips quirked into something which could have been a smile. "Oh, Jillian doesn't do illness," she answered flippantly.

"Tony, you worry too much," she repeated. "Troy needs a good night sleep, and he'll be fine. And I," she continued, "will be here to help out until he feels better." Grandma held up her hand to stop what she was certain Tony would say, and shook her head. "No, no, don't say a word. It's not too much to ask. I'm family to the child; so the least I can do is to stay until he is healthy."

Grandma stayed at Farthy for the next two weeks, even though as she'd predicted, Troy was fine after a restful night. Over the next two weekends, I watched her with Mother. They were on polite speaking terms; but I knew both of them, and knew that they would never have apologized to each other for the angry words exchanged in that fight. I wanted to side with Mother… after all, she was still my Mother. But my sympathies lay with Grandma. She had spoken the truth. Mother was spoilt and selfish, and I pitied Daddy for not having realized that long ago, and pitied Tony for not having realized it soon enough.

But I found myself thinking about that day for a long time. I thought about hearing Mother and Grandma fighting, about Troy telling me that Tony was promising him a baby brother. I thought about it as winter faded and turned to spring, and onto summer. Everything in my world was changing, and I wasn't sure I knew how to live with everything.