Vella Munn - The Return of Cord Navarro

“Dale? I’ve seen what poachers can do.”

The sheriff let out a long, hissing breath. “That killing in Utah last fall. That’s what you’re thinking about, isn’t it? I forgot.”

Cord hadn’t. Although he’d seen a lot of things in his career he wished he hadn’t, the accidental killing of an elderly man and the wounding of his wife by a couple of drunken hunters stood out in his mind.

“I’ll tell you what.” Dale broke through his thoughts. “I’ll get in touch with forest service employees all over the county as soon as we’re done talking. I know a couple of local pilots who’ll probably check out Breckenridge for me, Anything I hear, I’ll pass on to you.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that. And, Dale? I’d like to keep this between you and me. Shannon has enough on her mind without adding anything to it.”

“You got it. Look, Matt can be anywhere. He might have no interest in Breckenridge.”

Maybe. Maybe not, Cord thought after hanging up. What made this so hard was having to face the simple fact that he didn’t honestly know what was going on inside his son’s head. That, and vivid memories of what a bullet was capable of.

At the sound of Shannon’s boots on the floor, he shoved thoughts of Matt’s possible agenda and whether that might bring him in contact with poachers to the back of his mind. His ex-wife. No matter how many times he’d told himself that that was what she was, he’d been unable to exorcise the memories of when she’d been his wife.

Other people, even men aware of how attractive she was, would look at her today and see a competent businesswoman, a strong and mature woman capable of facing everything life dished out, even this.

But deep in her hazel eyes, fear lurked. She wouldn’t talk to him about it, and he wouldn’t bring it up. Avoiding anything of an emotional nature was one of the few rules that defined their relationship these days. They could talk about their respective jobs and lives, their son, her family, the price of gasoline, politics, anything casual friends might discuss. But as for what went on deep inside them-oh, yes, he knew how to avoid that.

“You were talking to someone?” she asked.

“Dale Vollrath.”

“The sheriff? What did he have to say?”

“Not much. Just that he’s going to do what he can here on the ground.”

She gave him a sideways look but didn’t say anything. When she dropped to her knees beside her backpack, he joined her. Still silent, she handed him her spare clothes and watched as he secured her belongings. Her hair hung wetly around her cheeks. He wanted to brush back the strands, wanted to flatten his palms against the side of her neck and hold her there while he kissed her.

Most of all, he wanted to tell her that their son was in no danger, and believe his own words.

Although her parents had said they’d be over right away, Cord wasn’t waiting for them to arrive. Following his lead, Shannon stepped outside. She stood in the cool drizzle and tried to be grateful because both the wind and rain had slackened.

He hadn’t said a word to her since telling her that he’d been talking to the sheriff, but he didn’t need to for her to understand that he was in a hurry to be on his way.

Shoving aside her insane wish to be anywhere but here and doing this, she mounted and checked the pack she’d secured behind her saddle. She briefly wondered why Cord hadn’t helped her, then realized he hadn’t because he needed to know how she was going to handle the physical demands.

Fine, she told him silently. Whatever you do, wherever you go, I’ll match you.

Cord, sitting tall and nearly motionless, rode ahead of her. She’d never seen him look more like his Ute grandfather, more in tune with his wet, green, brown, and gray world. He hadn’t said anything about their needing to be quiet so he could listen to his surroundings or whatever it was he did at a time like this. She hoped he would be honest with her about what she needed to do to be the most help but until they’d picked up Matt’s trail- please, she prayed, let that be soon -there really wasn’t anything to talk about.

The sound of squeaking leather and shod hoofs plopping on wet earth kept her aware of where they were. After wiping moisture off her forehead and then deciding it was a useless gesture, she prodded her horse.

She wished she was on Pawnee, taking courage from his strength and energy, but the young, strong, and excitable gelding was with her son-taking him too far from her. There was nothing wrong with the horses she’d chosen, nothing except that they wouldn’t go as fast as she needed them to. But it wasn’t the horses’ fault. Cord set the pace and he seemed to be in no hurry.

She wanted to yell at him and remind him that they had to get out of this high, wide meadow where she’d established her business and reach Arapaho as quickly as possible. But when she took note of the way Cord kept his eyes locked on his surroundings, his alert stance, how he cocked his head sometimes as if listening to something no other human could possibly hear, she understood that he’d thrown his entire being into this task.

What did he see, hear, sense?

Was it good? Bad?

And if bad, how, as Matt’s father, did he deal with it? Maybe, if she told him how horribly hard this was for her, he’d be just as honest and they could draw strength from each other.

Maybe.

“Why couldn’t he have at least picked a sunny day?” she asked, because she was going crazy listening to the thoughts clanging around in her head. “There’s probably a law somewhere that says kids are required to do the most illogical things in the most illogical ways so they can give their parents the maximum number of gray hairs.”

Cord said nothing. Only slightly aware of the sound the rain made as it sluiced through pine needles on the way to the earth, she blinked water out of her eyes. She probably should have worn her slicker instead of sticking it in her backpack, but it wasn’t that cold and too much clothing restricted her movement. She fastened her attention on her hands wrapped around the reins.

Finally they reached the first of the trees that marked the boundary of her property. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, she concentrated, or tried to concentrate, on the sounds the horses were making, the taste and feel of mountain air.

She couldn’t keep her eyes off Cord.

Her son’s father was painted in earth tones. Even his jeans seemed more brown than blue, a gentle fading of color until he’d become one with his environment. There were times when life took him out of the wilderness, but even then, she suspected, he carried his beloved world inside him. She’d never seen him in a suit; she doubted that he owned one.

Good.

He should always remain part of the elements.

But emotionally apart from her when what they were doing was taking every bit of self-control and courage she had?

The past seven years hadn’t changed anything. It was no different from when…

She refused to let herself finish the thought.

Cord ran his left hand down his pant leg. For one of the few times in his life, he didn’t feel comfortable in his own body.

It hurt, not just being unable to reach out and touch his son today, but facing how much he was missing of Matt’s growing up. In truth, he hated that most of all the things that couldn’t be changed in his life-be hated the holes in his heart that he didn’t fully understand. Closing his mind to the pain had always ensured his emotional survival. But life seldom felt as raw as it did today.

If they kept up this pace, they’d soon have to rest the horses. Still, although Arapaho was already dead ahead, he couldn’t make himself slow down, and Shannon hadn’t said anything about conserving her horses’ energy. Shannon, with her long legs and active life-style, shouldn’t have any trouble keeping up with him today and longer if it came to that. When he’d first seen her this morning, with her rich brown hair braided down her back, his defenses hadn’t had time to lock into place and he’d come within a breath of telling her she looked like an Indian maiden, beautiful, desirable. But she wouldn’t want to hear that from him any more than he wanted to give voice to his thoughts.