He was filling her with his words just as earlier he had filled her with his sex. He was filling up her body and taking it over. The words caught her, heaved her about in their undertow and made it hard for her to breathe. But for all his talk, Sam didn't really understand what it meant to dare. He had nothing to lose. He lived in an ugly little house with a painting of Elvis Presley on the wall. He owned a stereo system and a Harley-Davidson. When Sam talked about not being afraid to dare, he wasn't risking anything. She-on the other hand-was risking it all.
He touched her. He cupped her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. The wave washed her up on shore, and she experienced that helpless feeling women throughout the centuries have known when they realize that loving a man means loving his vision as well, that it means traveling across oceans, across continents, that it means being uprooted from family and giving up the safe for the unknown. "I-I need to think about this. Tomorrow, while you're at work, I'll think about it."
"I'm not going to work tomorrow."
"Why not?"
"I quit. I'm in, Suzie. I'm in all the way."
"You quit your job?" she said weakly.
"Last week. Now how about you? Are you in or out?"
"I-I don't know."
"Not good enough."
"I need time."
"There isn't any."
"Don't do this, Sam. Please don't badger me like this."
"I want to know, Suzie. Right now. Make up your mind. Are you in or out?"
She felt as if she were eons older than he was instead of only a year-millennia older in experience. A lifetime of dinner-table conversations drifted back to her. She saw hurdles he couldn't imagine, difficulties his visionary's eyes hadn't begun to glimpse. Everything she had learned from the day she was bom urged her to tell him she couldn't help him and then to run back to Falcon Hill and beg her father's forgiveness.
But she loved him, and she loved the new spark he had ignited inside her-a spark that had been lit by his reckless energy, a spark that wanted to grow brighter and become stronger. A spark that was urging her to follow this restless young man she had so unwisely fallen in love with right off the edge of the earth.
When she finally spoke, her voice was shaky and barely audible. "I'm in."
Chapter 10
Yank's Duster coughed like an emphysema victim as Susannah drove north to Falcon Hill several days later. She had owned high-performance automobiles all her life, and until this moment she hadn't realized a car could behave like this one. She thought about using the car as an excuse to go back, but then imagined how Sam would scoff at her if she returned without getting the things she needed.
Each day it had grown more difficult for her to live without her possessions. Sam had given her money to get a new prescription filled for her birth control pills, and although that had been her most pressing need, it was only one of them. She needed her reading glasses and her driver's license. She needed clothes to replenish her borrowed wardrobe. No matter how much she wanted to avoid it, she hadn't been able to postpone going home any longer.
The gates loomed ahead of her. Sam had given her the small electronic gadget he had used to release the locks, but she didn't need it. It was Thursday morning and the gates were open for a grocery delivery. As she turned into the drive, she remembered the newspaper gossip column from last Sunday's paper that she had stumbled upon. It had contained a sly account of what had happened at her wedding and was accompanied by a picture of herself and Cal "in happier times." Sick at her stomach, she had tried once again to reach her father, this time at his office. His secretary had pretended not to know who she was and informed her that Mr. Faulconer was currently out of the country.
Her trepidation grew as she parked the Duster in the motorcourt and climbed the front steps to the house. While she waited for someone to answer the bell, she wished a familiar household retainer would appear-one of those mythic housekeepers of fiction who would welcome her home with a tart scolding and a warm plate of cookies. In reality, Falcon Hill's current housekeeper had a small tattoo on the back of her hand and had only been with them a few months.
The slim hand that opened the door, however, bore no tattoo.
"Paige?"
"Well, well, the runaway bride returns."
Susannah was astonished to see her sister, but even more surprised to see that Paige was wearing one of Susannah's own silk dresses instead of her customary blue jeans. Antique gold earrings glimmered through her hair. They were the ones Joel had bought Susannah as a high school graduation present.
A smirk distorted Paige's pretty mouth. "I can't believe you have the nerve to come back."
"What are you doing here?"
Paige's eyes skimmed Susannah's tidy hair and untidy outfit, then flicked to the battered Duster in the driveway. "Falcon Hill is my home, too. Or have you forgotten that?"
There was an expression of such smugness on her sister's face that Susannah felt sick. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Is Father home?"
"Luckily for you, no. You've been declared persona non grata for the rest of your natural life. He's left orders that your name is no longer to be spoken in this house. You're being disinherited, spurned-I actually think he's trying to find a way to un-adopt you. Right out of the Old Testament."
Susannah had known it would be bad, but not this bad.
Like someone deliberately probing a sore tooth, she inquired, "What about Cal? How is he?"
"Oh, he's just peachy-considering the fact that he's been publicly humiliated. It's a miracle the newspaper story hasn't gotten bigger play, but you've still managed to make him look like the Bay Area's biggest asshole."
Susannah didn't want to think about what a terrible thing she had done to Cal. She couldn't bear any more guilt.
"Actually, it's been pretty interesting around here. It's starting to feel as if you never existed. As if you never came into our lives."
Susannah didn't want to hear any more. She moved forward, ready to slip past Paige and get what she needed, but Paige sidestepped, blocking the way. "You can't come in, Susannah. Daddy's forbidden it."
"But that's ridiculous. I need to get some of my things."
Triumph glittered in Paige's eyes. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you ran off with your stud."
"He's not a-"
"I thought you were a virgin. Isn't that a hoot? If you had to have a toy boy, Susannah, you could at least have been nice enough not to wave him in Daddy's face."
Susannah mustered her dignity. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just couldn't help it."