Borderland (40 page)

Nostrils
flaring, Nolan sat up. "I may not be what you want, but I'm just what you
need. And you're what I need, Myra. I think I'm in love with you, dammit, and I
can't let you get away. Whether you want me to or not, I'm coming to California
with you."

“Nolan—“

"Save
your breath. There's not a goddamned thing you can do about it. Cal will
welcome me even if you won't."

The
hitch in his throat surprised both of them. He made to leave the bed and Myra
put out her hand to stop him. Her grasping fingers caught his bandaged wound
and Nolan sucked in air between his teeth and growled in pain. Myra left the
bed and put her arms around his neck. She told him in a whisper she was afraid.
He held her and said he was afraid too, afraid she would be like this even
after they were living together. Myra laughed a little and still whispering
apologized and asked him to forgive her for hurting him. Nolan wasn't sure
which hurt she was talking about, but he wasn't going to ask questions. He was
happy to have her right where she was, doing what she was doing. When she took
his hand and led him back to the bed, his face split in a wide smile.

CHAPTER 35

The
morning was a jumble of confusion as preparations for the two separate
departures were made. The refrigerator was emptied in the cooking of a huge
breakfast, and all the furniture was draped with linens. Vic wanted to sell
everything in the house. He didn't intend to come back.

Myra
said tearful goodbyes to Christa and Andy and promised to send an address to
them as soon as she had one. She spent a moment in her room upstairs, thinking
of the night before. Of Nolan. After a moment she shook her head and walked
around the bed to look out the window. She wanted to say goodbye to Drusilla,
but she thought it unnecessary to do so. Drusilla no longer had any reason to
be there.

Nolan
called her down eventually and she descended the steps in time to hear him wish
Vic good luck and then question Carrie about the receipt of some layoff papers.

Was that
why Carrie had come to see him? Myra wondered. Had he been laid off from his
job in his absence?

Carrie's
voice reached her ears then. "What are you going to do in California,
Nolan?"

"Surf,
sun, and sing in a piano bar," he said with a wink for the nearby Cal.
"And maybe marry Myra. Might have to, after last night."

Myra's
cheeks blazed as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. Nolan turned and saw
her and his gaze immediately warmed. He laughed at her horrified expression.
"Don't worry, honey, we didn't wake up anyone."

Cal
snickered and Myra angrily shouldered her purse and moved past them. As she
went by Nolan he delivered a pat to her bottom, causing the furnace in her face
to bum even hotter. As she reached the door she felt a sudden coolness envelope
her. Her skin began to prickle.

"Nolan.
. ." she began, but he was already behind her, already frowning as he
looked past her. She followed his gaze and caught her breath. There were people
out there. Dozens of people. Their cars and trucks lined the drive and
stretched to the road. Stone-faced women and children stood beside the vehicles
and stared at the house with frighteningly intent expressions.

"Who
are they?" Carrie whispered from behind them.

"The
women of Denke," Vic answered. "They won't do anything to us. Let's
go."

He had
the Bible with him, Myra noticed. He held it up as they left the house and made
a show of dropping it with a loud bang to the front porch. Several of the women
in the crowd flinched.

Nolan
put Myra and Cal behind him as they walked out to the Buick and the Mustang.
"If they throw anything, duck and floor it," he told Myra as she
climbed behind the wheel of her car. "I'll be right behind you."

The
women didn't throw anything. They simply stood and stared as the small
procession of cars idled down the drive. Myra looked away from the cold,
hostile glares of Coral Nenndorf and the other wives to glance at the house in her
rearview mirror. She half-expected to see someone carrying a burning torch up
to the front porch. Instead she saw a face in an upstairs window—an incredibly
pale female face with large dark eyes and long brown hair. Drusilla.

The
Mustang's tires threw gravel as Myra mashed the accelerator and shot forward on
the dusty road.

It
wasn't over.