Tears of the Renegade Read online

  “If I see him again,” Susan agreed steadily. “I don’t know where he is.” The bald confession stabbed her as she realized anew how empty she felt at the thought that she might not see him again.

  Preston sat upright. “Has he left town?”

  “I don’t know. But I haven’t seen him for a week, and he’s not at the cabin.”

  “He’s either gone again, or he’s making some sort of move against me,” Preston muttered absently, tapping his fingertips on the top of Susan’s desk. “Let me know if you hear from him.” He got up and left her office, still preoccupied with the news that Cord had dropped out of sight.

  After a moment Beryl appeared with an armload of correspondence to be signed, pulling Susan away from the chasm of loneliness, but inside herself she was aware that she had only stepped back, not walked away from it entirely. It was still there, cold and black in its yawning emptiness, a bleak, bottomless pit where she would fall forever, locked away from the fire of the man she loved.

  Chapter Eight

  Just as she turned into her driveway a swiftly moving thunderstorm swept in from the Gulf, and it threatened to drown her as she dashed the short distance from her car to the covered side patio. Emily met her at the door with an enormous towel, having seen her drive up. Just as Susan stepped out of her soaking shoes and wound the towel around her hair, the rain stopped as swiftly as it had come, leaving only the cheerful dripping of water from the trees and the eaves of the roof. A split second later the thundercloud was gone and the sun was shining merrily on the wet landscape, making the raindrops sparkle like diamonds. Susan gave Emily a rueful look. “If I’d waited in the car for a minute, it would’ve been over with and I wouldn’t have gotten soaked.”

  Emily couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “If you wanted predictable weather, you’d live in Arizona. Go on upstairs and get dried off, while I finish your dinner.”

  Fifteen minutes later Susan was downstairs again, helping Emily put the finishing touches on the small but tasty meal she’d prepared. Emily watched her set a single place on the table, and the older woman’s protective instincts were aroused. Putting her big spoon down with a thunk, she braced her hands on her hips. “I’d like to know why you’ve been eating alone every night, instead of letting Cord Blackstone take you out.”

  Susan flushed, not certain how to respond. Because it was what she feared most, she finally said, “Just because he passed out on the couch and spent the night here doesn’t mean he’s interested—”

  “Baloney,” Emily interrupted in exasperation. “I’ve got eyes, and I saw the way he was looking at you the next morning. You were looking back at him the same way, and don’t try to deny it. Then he went upstairs with you, and it was quite a while before he came down.”

  “I don’t know where he is,” Susan admitted helplessly, staring down at the table. “He’s not at the cabin. He hasn’t called; he didn’t even tell me he was leaving, or where he was going. For all I know, he won’t be back.”

  “He’ll be back, mark my words.” Emily sniffed. “He’s not used to accounting for himself to anyone, but if he had it in mind to leave for good, he’d have let you know.”

  “You knew him when he was a boy,” Susan said, looking up at Emily with the hunger to know more about him plain in her eyes. “What was he like?”

  Emily’s care-worn features softened as she looked at the pleading face turned up to her. “Sit down,” she urged. “I’ll tell you while you’re eating.”

  Susan obeyed, automatically eating the tiny lamb chops and steamed carrots that were one of her favorite meals. Emily sat down at the table across from her. “I loved him as a boy,” she said, turning her mind back over twenty years. “He was always ready to laugh, always up to some prank, and it seemed like he was more relaxed at my house. He never fit in with the people his parents expected to be his friends, never really fit in here at all, and that just made him wilder than he naturally was anyway, which was wild enough. He was always ahead of everyone else, stronger than anyone else his age, faster, with better grades, more girlfriends. Even the older girls in high school were after him. Everything came so easy to him, or maybe he made everything come to him; I’ve never seen anyone more stubborn or determined to have his way. Thinking back on it, I know that he had to be bored. Nothing challenged him. He pulled off every wild stunt he could think of, but he had a golden touch, and everything always worked smooth as silk for him. I’ve never seen anything like his luck.”

  Susan’s breath caught at the image Emily had given her, of a boy growing up too fast, without any limits to guide him. He wouldn’t accept any limits, she realized. He’d been propelled by the extraordinary combination of genes and circumstance that should have made him the prototypical Golden Boy, with all the comforts and privileges of wealth and class: handsome, unusually intelligent, athletic, gifted by nature with charm and grace. But his restless, seeking mind had soared beyond that, driven him to test the limits of chance. He had pushed and pushed, seeking a boundary he couldn’t push beyond, until he’d gone too far and been driven away from his home.

  There had been dark years in Cord’s life, times when he’d been close to death, when he’d been cold and hungry, but she couldn’t imagine him ever being frightened. No, he’d face everything that came his way, the mocking twist of his lips daring everyone and everything to do their worst. The remaining vestiges of the Golden Boy had been obliterated by the harshness of the life he’d led. Perhaps he had money now, perhaps he lived comfortably, but it hadn’t always been so, and his senses were still razor-sharp. She thought of the scars on his body and her heart twisted.

  “Everyone acts as if he’s a wild animal,” she said painfully. “Why are they so afraid of him?”

  “Because they don’t understand him. Because he’s not like they are. Some folks are afraid of lightning; some think it’s beautiful. But everyone’s cautious around it.”

  Yes, he was as wild and beautiful as a bolt of lightning, and as dangerous. She stared at Emily, her eyes glistening with tears. “I love him.”

  Emily nodded sadly. “I know, honey. I know. What are you going to do?”

  “There’s nothing I can do, is there? Just…love him, and hope everything works out.”

  A foolish hope, doomed from the start. How could it work out? It was impossible to hold a bolt of lightning.

  He was gone, and every minute seemed to drag by, rasping on her nerves. An hour was a lifetime; a day, eternity. No book, no gardening, no sewing, could ease her bone-deep sense of yearning. All she could think of was Cord, overwhelming her with his reckless charm and the impact of his forceful sensuality.

  If only he was with her! In his presence she wouldn’t care about Preston, or Imogene, or whatever was going on. In Cord’s arms, she wouldn’t care about anything. She could lose herself in him, and count the loss well worth the cost in pain. She loved him simply, completely, and she had to follow only the dictates of her emotions.

  She slept restlessly that night, and was jerked out of sleep a little after midnight by a boom of thunder that rattled the windows. Susan lay snugly in her warm bed, listening to the lightning crackle; then a hard, driving rain began to pound against her windows and the wind picked up. Deciding she’d better turn on the radio and get a weather report, she sat up and turned on her bedside lamp. When she did, another pounding reached her ears and she paused, a small frown touching her brow. Then it was repeated, and she jumped out of bed. Someone was trying to beat her door down.

  She grabbed her robe and raced down the stairs, turning on lights as she went. “Who is it? What’s wrong?” she called as she neared the door.

  A deep laugh answered her. “The only thing that’s wrong is that you’re on that side of the door and I’m on this one.”

  “Cord!” Her heart jumped into her throat and she fumbled hastily with the lock, throwing the door open. He sauntered in, as wild as the night, and as dangerous. The wind had tumbled his dark hair into reckless wa