Vella Munn - The Return of Cord Navarro

That was some consolation, although by the time those men tried to leave the mountains, they might have already accomplished what they’d set out to, namely illegally killed one or more wild animals. And, if they shot without first getting a good look at their so-called prey, they might put a bullet into an innocent boy.

Holding that thought at bay with all the willpower in him, he told Dale about the early morning shot and the glint of sunlight he’d seen this afternoon. His throat still tight, he asked Dale to keep him informed.

“You better believe it. The thing is, these jokers are going to do everything they can to stay out of sight of any rangers or deputies. They might be carrying radios. If they are, they could be listening to us right now and getting the message, but I wouldn’t count on that.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m sorry as hell about this, Cord. Damn it, you’ve already got enough to worry about.”

“It’s all right.”

“Hmm. You haven’t told her yet, have you?”

“No.”

“Look, man, she’s-”

“I can’t!” he blurted. “She’s already going through hell.”

“No more than you are. What happens if-when-she hears a rifle shot or comes face-to-face with those jokers-or with what they’ve already done? She’s going to take one look at you and know you were anticipating this. What’s she going to do then?”

He didn’t know.

Cord had been sitting on that rocky outcropping for a long time, hadn’t he? Although the need to rest continued to pull at her, Shannon stood and slowly made her way up the hill to him. He acknowledged her with a look that didn’t quite connect. The sense that he was part and parcel of his surroundings hit her with the same force it had earlier. He would always belong to the mountains. No matter what life brought, he could renew himself here.

“What happened?” she asked. “My folks? Are they all right?”

“They’re holding up.”

The top button on his cotton shirt had come off. He sat with one shoulder resting against a rock. His position pulled the fabric away from his chest. She felt her hand begin to tingle and knew why. If she touched him, she would be filled with warmth and strength-his warmth, his strength.

Why now when she felt so tired that all she wanted to do was fall into bed? She should have been attracted to him earlier today, when for hours there’d been precious little to look at except him and nothing else safe to think about.

Safe? No, not at all.

“What did you tell them?” she made herself ask, and then listened as he relayed the essence of the conversation he’d had with her father. “I should have talked to him. Maybe I’ll call him back and-”

“Don’t. Please.”

She thought she caught a warning note in his voice, but before she could question it, he explained that her father had sounded deeply tired himself, and when he suggested he get some rest, her father had agreed. “If your folks and you start talking about Matt, they might not be able to sleep.”

That made sense, enough that she dismissed her nagging sense that Cord had left certain words and emotions untouched. He was trying to shelter her from the world; she’d be a fool not to, at least briefly, accept the gift.

“I must have fallen asleep down there.” Her legs began to tremble and she lowered herself, less than gracefully, near him. She’d been right; his warmth was enough to reach her. Ah, Cord, you are beautiful, beautiful and competent and primitively sexy . “Then-I don’t know what was going through me, something unsettling. It woke me.”

“You were thinking about Matt.”

Of course she was, but enough pieces of her dream remained that she had to admit it was more than that-something to do with Cord, his body, whispered words, coming together. Unsettling didn’t say the half of it.

“I hope he’s asleep.”

“I’m sure he is.”

He was saying that for her sake; she was unbelievably grateful to him for that. “He always sleeps curled up on his right side,” she began. “Do you remember when he couldn’t go to bed without that teddy bear my mother bought him cuddled in his arms?”

“He still has it, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. In a dresser drawer. He doesn’t want his friends to see it, and I don’t think he looks at it very much, but…he’s growing up so fast.”

“Too fast. I miss-How many times did you sit with him in that rocker your folks gave you, trying to get him to fall back asleep? I’d get up in the middle of the night and find you and Matt rocking in the dark. You humming. Him playing with your chin.”

“You remember that?”

“You looked so content, tired but content. And beautiful. The chair always groaned a little. I asked if you wanted me to fix it, but you said the sound lulled Matt.”

Momentarily stripped of words, she rested her head on his shoulder. When he wrapped his arm around her, she struggled to keep the sound inside her confined to a sigh. He called her beautiful? What he’d just told her was exquisite. “It was good then, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I want… I want-I have this unbearable need to send him some kind of message,” she tried around what boiled inside her. “Tell him we’re getting closer, and if he’d stop moving, it won’t take nearly as long for us to find him.”

“He wants to do this on his own.”

“I know he does. He’s made that clear, hasn’t he?” She shouldn’t run her hand inside his shirt and spread her palm over his chest, but the gesture seemed so natural. So right and necessary. Yes. It had been good between them, once. “He-am I a terrible person for saying this? All I’ve thought about for days now is Matt. I’m tired of it. Tired of being scared and upset, my stomach in a knot. I just want to go back to what it was before.”

“No. You aren’t crazy.”

Before she could think what, if anything, she needed to say in response to his incredible wisdom, he cupped his hand over hers and pulled it off his chest. With her fingers still cradled inside his, he held her palm close to his face and covered it with light kisses.

“Every emotion you have, no matter what it is, is all right.”

What about what I’m feeling now, Cord? How are you going to deal with it? How am I?

“I don’t know what my emotions are, not really.” She tried the words, but they didn’t feel right. Maybe nothing she said would. After a minute, during which he touched his lips to the back of her hand, she forced herself to straighten.

Never in her life had she felt more isolated. It wasn’t just the surroundings and the reason they were here. But over the past seven years, there’d always been something to keep her from concentrating totally on Cord and that hollow place deep inside her that refused to heal. She wanted it that way, fought to keep him locked away where he couldn’t reach her. When they talked about such things as shared custody and the particular stage Matt was going through and where Cord had just been, she hadn’t let herself think about him and her. About what remained of her love for him.

Tonight she couldn’t tap into the world beyond Copper Mountain, and she didn’t dare let her thoughts go to Matt. That left only Cord and stars and the moon, trees that had been growing for hundreds of years, memories of ancient Indian tribes, Mother earth, Father sun; breathing with everything that made up the incredible wilderness.

Cord.

She’d never told him this, but she followed his career with the devotion of a loyal fan. She didn’t cut out newspaper clippings or keep the article in People magazine because…

Maybe because that would mean acknowledging something she didn’t want to. But she’d committed those accounts to memory. Because, if he possibly could, he always called Matt before leaving on a rescue, and she’d know when to start listening to the news for word of him, when to worry about his safety.