Vella Munn - The Return of Cord Navarro

Cord, who’d already used the bathroom, was outside doing whatever it was he needed to. It still wasn’t light enough to see without turning on the bathroom light; at least, normal mortals like herself needed help to see. As for Cord, he’d showered in the dark and then dressed and gone outside without saying a word to her about his plans. He didn’t seem to be hurrying, yet getting ready hadn’t taken him any time at all.

Had he slept? she asked herself yet again. During those horrible hours while she lay curled up on the couch praying for the night to be over, she’d listened for the sound of Cord’s breathing. She’d heard nothing, but then, he’d slept silently when they were married. Maybe that hadn’t changed.

Sleep. Had he been capable of shutting off his thoughts so he could go about the vital task of preparing his body for today’s work? If he had, then he indeed lived up to his publicity as the intrepid tracker. But to truly rest, with his son somewhere out there-

Reminding herself that there was something essential she and Cord had to discuss, she laced her boots and stepped outside. It wasn’t cold. But neither was it as warm as she wanted it to be. As long as she stood on the porch, she could almost convince herself that the rain wasn’t that much of a factor, but the moment she stepped out into it, she was lost.

Why, Matt? What were you thinking? Does proving yourself to your father really mean this much?

Cord, wearing a soaked T-shirt that hugged his wonderfully hard and competent body, turned from what he’d been doing at the Jeep. He came toward her with his backpack slung over his shoulder, his eyes steady on her. He looked ready to take on the world one quiet step at a time. Despite the rain and wind, he didn’t so much as blink. The day was gray, dark, making a lie of summer. Cord was part of that world.

“Go back inside,” he said as he came close. “There’s no reason for you to get wet.”

“Isn’t there?” she retorted. She hadn’t known she was angry until the words burst from her, but maybe the truth was that anger had nothing to do with what was happening to her. Unable to meet his intense gaze, she held her hands out palms-up so she could catch some of the raindrops. “He’s out there, somewhere. Standing in this.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

He balanced the backpack effortlessly on his left shoulder. His free hand hung by his side and yet she felt herself being drawn to it. “Don’t do this to yourself, Shannon,” he said. “Worrying about him won’t change anything.”

“What do you want me to do? Pretend he’s at a sleep-over with a friend? He isn’t.” She glared at him, felt his dark eyes begin to absorb her, forced herself to study what she could see of the horizon. “He might be lost. No matter how good he thinks he is, he might be lost.”

“Don’t,” Cord repeated. Without asking, he grasped her wrist and led her back up the steps. Once they were on the porch, he set down his burden and pulled her around until she was forced to look up at him. “The night was hard for you. I’m sorry it had to be like that with nothing to think about except Matt.”

She’d thought about a lot more than their son, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“The inactivity got to you, but it’s morning now. I’ll find him. He’ll be all right. I want you to believe that.”

I want to believe in you, Cord. To trust completely. But it isn’t that simple . Life never is. “Is that what you tell everyone?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. “That you’ll find whoever you’re looking for?”

“No. Not always.”

She should ask him to explain himself, but something in his tone warned her that this wasn’t ground she wanted to tread on this morning. Although she knew it wasn’t wise, she looked down at her trapped hands, her safe and secure hands. Cord Navarro, a man with a skill unrivaled by any other, had promised her that nothing bad would happen to her-their-son and she wanted to believe him.

“It’s the rain,” she admitted after too long a silence. “If it wasn’t raining-”

“It’ll make finding him harder.”

Don’t say that , she thought even as she nodded to let him know she understood. Looking up, she struggled to find something brave and optimistic to say. But his midnight eyes were on her, reaching into her.

Although it was the most dangerous thing she could do, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him. She expected, half hoped that he would push her away. Instead, he folded her into him and held her tight and safe against his wet but warm body. An unsteady breath brought her the scent of shampoo and soap and something else, some memory of smells hidden under seven years of separate living.

Beyond all reason, she wrapped her arms around him and lay her cheek on his chest. Despite her heart’s unsteady and unwanted pounding, she heard his own heart beating-beating strong. This man, who’d given her two children, a roof over her head, a reason-once-for living, became her world again. It wouldn’t last; it was illusion and delusion, but she would grab it for what it was this stormy morning and take strength from him.

He ran his hand up and down her back, pressing when he reached the base of her spine. He must have meant the gesture to be comforting; certainly he wasn’t interested in eliciting any other response from her. But she had no control over what was happening to her, no way of denying the deeply buried woman who, after all these years, wanted him.

Wanted?

No!

Hoping he wouldn’t notice that she was shaking, she pushed away until he was no longer touching her. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “You’re right. I had too much time for thinking last night. It won’t happen again.”

Shannon had gone inside ahead of him. By the time he’d placed his backpack on the office floor, she’d left the room. Forcing himself to concentrate on what was automatic and essential about his job, he inventoried his food supply, satisfying himself that he had enough of what could be eaten on the move. He gave the rest of his equipment a quick check. It wasn’t full daylight yet, but he should already be under way. He would be if he had only himself to consider.

Standing, he cocked his head to one side and listened, but couldn’t determine where Shannon had gone. Maybe she was deliberately keeping quiet so she wouldn’t disturb him from what he needed to concentrate on. Or maybe she’d decided to distance herself as much as possible from him.

He wouldn’t blame her. After all, she couldn’t have wanted that embrace any more than he had. Except, he admitted with customary frankness, he had wanted to feel her against him. Had needed to touch and be touched. If he’d taken anything from the years he’d spent married to Shannon, it was the knowledge that he wasn’t an island, a solitary human being, after all. He needed to belong to someone. Except for Matt, he hadn’t found anyone.

There, a sound. Following it, he found himself standing at the entrance to Matt’s bedroom. Shannon was in there, her back to him as she stared into the jammed and jumbled closet. Some emotion had wrenched the moaning sound from her a few moments ago; he knew that instinctively.

It was a boy’s room, complete with sports posters, cowboy boots, a mound of clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, a stack of nature magazines on a small desk under the window. Matt had told him that his mother had bought him the desk to do his schoolwork on but he preferred to work at the kitchen table closer to his mom. Now the desk held two footballs and a helmet, comic books, a hammer, screwdriver, and pliers. Cord saw something else-the compass he’d given him two years ago. Now Shannon was staring at it, too.