Vella Munn - The Return of Cord Navarro

She opened her eyes to look at him. In the newborn day, she saw that he was already gazing at her. His eyes asked if she had any regrets, and because she couldn’t answer him or herself, she didn’t speak.

Instead she kissed his powerful shoulder, the tanned hollow at the base of his throat, answered his silent kiss, and then, because he’d already taken too much of her, she slid away from him.

Now he was getting dressed and she was trying to remember how to braid her hair and regret swirled around her like a free-moving river.

She’d spent so many years and so much energy getting to that hard-won place where she believed she no longer loved Cord and couldn’t be hurt by him. Last night, twice, he’d made a lie of that belief and it would take years to undo two acts of lovemaking.

But he wasn’t the only one responsible for the way her heart felt this morning; she couldn’t blame him for that. She’d let it out of its quiet, cushioned prison and learned that the years had changed nothing of what she felt for him after all.

The realization terrified her.

“Shannon, there’s a small elk herd around here. We aren’t that far from a spring they’ve been using. If Matt finds it, he might follow it down.”

Although she wasn’t ready for this or any other conversation, she agreed that what he said made sense and should make sense to Matt, too-if the boy had given up on his goal of making it to the top of the mountain. She asked if that meant he intended to stop following their son’s tracks.

“No. That’s the last thing I’d do. His footprints are our only tie to him.”

Only . “It scares me when you say that.”

He kicked into his boot and stepped closer to her. She thought she read the slightest hint of fear in his eyes, but couldn’t begin to comprehend its source. Not once during the hard past few days had he truly given her access to what was going on inside him. She’d come to expect that curtain to remain in place and could only guess at the changes inside him that had allowed it to momentarily slip away.

If he was afraid for Matt, she didn’t want to hear about it. If what happened between them last night had changed him in some way he had no control over and left him vulnerable, honest about Matt’s chances, she didn’t want to know that, either.

Cord was the mountain. Strong, invincible, the man she’d charged with bringing her son back to her.

Not a frail, insecure, sometimes helpless human being.

Like her.

“I don’t want you to be scared. If I could, I’d take you out of here so you wouldn’t have to go through this.”

“I wish you could, too, but the only way I’ll leave is when we find Matt.”

“I know. And we will.”

When? she wanted to shout at him, but didn’t ask, just as she hadn’t pushed for the reason behind what lurked in his eyes. As she watched him turn his attention to what little needed to be done before they could get going, she struggled for a memory of anything that had happened in her life before coming here with him. Nothing surfaced and after a minute she gave up the search.

Her body needed his touch. If he reached for her, the gesture might put an end to the unease that flowed through her. But he, like she, must have decided that reaching for any more of what they’d experienced last night would only throw them into more turmoil.

She took a handful of nuts and dried fruit and began chewing. Neither had any flavor. When Cord approached, she handed him the bag and told him that she wasn’t sure she but she thought the fruit was apple.

“You made wonderful apple pies,” he told her around a healthy bite. His eyes settled on her, dark, keeping their secrets. “I tried making one a couple of times, but the dough I bought didn’t taste anything like yours.”

Needing relief from his intensity, she pretended to be shocked. “Packaged dough? Did you ever see me use that?”

Frowning, he shook his head. “I should have paid more attention to how you did it.”

“I guess you should have.”

He ate as if it was something he knew he had to do but which concerned him little. She remembered pressing against his right hip last night and noting how quickly he’d pulled away. He must have bruised himself during one of those times when he’d scrambled over rocks, but like fueling his body, bruises didn’t concern him.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d dismissed their lovemaking just as easily. If that’s why he was able to stand near her and talk about apple pies and now look around him instead of into her eyes; she hurt for both of them.

But maybe it wasn’t like that at all. Maybe, as for her, last night still bombarded him.

“There’s going to be a wind,” he said. “Coming from the north and probably lasting all day.”

“Does that make a difference?”

“It might make it harder for us to hear Matt.”

She nodded, barely understanding herself because talk and thoughts of how Matt was doing no longer brought her to the brink of tears. Had she been through so many emotions that they’d all been washed away? Maybe without knowing it, she’d become so tired that her system simply couldn’t reach to anything.

And maybe making love with Cord had left such an impact that precious little else could penetrate. “We aren’t going to talk about it, are we?” she asked as he watched her adjust the straps on her pack.

“About what?”

“Last night.” He stood so close that she would only have to take a single step to touch him. There wasn’t a square inch of her that didn’t want to answer her heart’s demand. Still, she remained where she was-standing safe and alone and untouched. “Cord, we can’t pretend we didn’t make love.”

“I’m not going to apologize.”

Was that what he thought she wanted? Surely he knew her better than that. She shut her eyes and lost herself in darkness until she began to feel dizzy. The question repeated inside her. Maybe he didn’t know her at all anymore. Maybe she didn’t know him. “I didn’t expect you to apologize.” She spoke with her teeth clenched and her eyes barely open. “Maybe what I want is a better understanding of why we wound up in each other’s arms.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you?” This argument, if that’s what they were having, was insane. “Is that the difference between us? I’ve surrounded myself with emotion. I need to know the strength, the boundaries of that emotion. You-maybe you just act.”

“Is that what you believe?”

She’d asked him an impossible question. Now he’d thrown the same back at her. “I don’t know.” She forced herself to relax and took a step designed to let him know she was ready to get started. “I don’t know what goes on inside you.”

Only his hair, buffeted by the breeze, moved. She couldn’t free herself from the power and probe of his eyes. Had her words wounded him? Was that why he was reacting this way? She couldn’t begin to guess what she might say or do to drag an answer out of him. It was easier to rock back on her heels and incline her head in the direction she believed they would be heading. Something dark and cloudlike drifted over his features, but she couldn’t penetrate that anymore than she’d ever been able to penetrate his silences.

He started to turn away. She felt the keen stab of disappointment at the realization that he was actually going to do what she wanted him to. Then, letting the gesture speak for him, he reached out and brushed his hand over her cheek.

“The first peace is that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their oneness with the universe and all its powers.”

“Cord, what are you-”

“Not me. The Sioux. They believe that the Great Spirit dwells at the center of the universe, that this center is everywhere, and is within each of us.”