Vella Munn - The Return of Cord Navarro

It was dark; the mercury light that lit her small spread had been on longer than she wanted to think about. It hadn’t started to rain yet, but from past experience she knew it soon would. The temperature was cold for this time of year and the blasted wind hadn’t let up. What jacket had Matt taken?

She’d gone inside and was just walking into Matt’s bedroom when she heard hoofs thudding against the hardpacked soil. Not breathing, she stepped outside.

Cord and Misty were illuminated by artificial light, their shadows fading off into the night. He rode the mare as if he’d been born on the animal’s back. He was all Native now, both timeless and primitive. She needed her anger and the hard lessons of the past, but how could she wrap those emotions around her with the sight of him consuming her?

When he was close enough that she could make out his features, he locked eyes with her. His silence said everything. She pressed her palm to her stomach and watched as he guided Misty toward the corral. He dismounted with a liquid movement and reached up to remove the saddle. He would have to speak first; she couldn’t.

He ran his hand over Misty’s neck and then turned toward her. He looked older than he had earlier today, but that might have been a trick of the unnatural light. “Nothing.”

Nothing . “You went all the way to Arapaho?”

“To this side of the base, yes.”

The knot inside her tightened. She looked up at Cord, needing and yet not wanting to see the same mood in him. But whatever he felt, he kept it to himself as he had too damn many times in the past. “What happens now?”

“We’ll have to wait until morning.”

“Morning,” she repeated, not caring that the word came out a whimper.

He nodded, then, without speaking, started toward the barn. Something about the set of his shoulders caught her attention; he was exhausted. “Go inside,” she ordered. “I’ll take care of her.”

“You don’t mind?”

“It’s the least I can do. Go.”

She remained behind long enough to feed and water the mare. Although she knew she was being foolish, she kept her senses tuned to the dark. If will alone could accomplish miracles, Matt would be coming into the light now.

When she entered the house, she noted that Cord had removed his boots and jacket. He’d slumped onto the couch and was staring, not at her, but at the rocker she’d once used to rock Matt to sleep. “I should have helped you out there,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Unexpectedly her heart went out to him. No matter how much he shuttered his feelings inside him, he couldn’t completely disguise his body language. He leaned forward and ran his hand over the back of his neck in that gesture she had given up trying to forget.

“Darn him!” The words were out before she knew they’d been bottled inside. “Doesn’t he know what he’s doing to us?” She pressed her fingers against her mouth. “I’m sorry. That isn’t the point right now, is it?”

“No. It isn’t.”

“It’s going to rain tonight.”

Shannon didn’t need Cord to spell out the obvious. Besides, he should realize she didn’t want to think about what Matt might have to endure tonight. “This isn’t the first time he’s pushed his boundaries. Pushed himself I should say,” she admitted. “He’s a good boy. But…he has a lot of you in him.”

Cord blinked slowly, the movement hitting her somewhere deep and unwanted. “I know he does.”

“He needs space,” she continued, feeling her way past memories of their years together, buried years. “He’d rather be outside than in no matter what the weather. And he’d rather die than sit still.”

“Yes, he would.”

Yes, he would . Words of understanding between parents. Darn it, she wouldn’t let him get close!

“Cord, I’ve been thinking. That’s all I did while you were gone. Think. The other day I heard Matt on the phone telling someone about all the places he was going to go with you. That someday the two of you would-”

“I can’t be with him all the time, Shannon.”

“I didn’t say you should.”

“But if I’d been here today, he wouldn’t have gone off.”

“No. He wouldn’t have. But we can’t do anything about that, can we?”

“Do you blame me?”

She wanted to. Heaping responsibility on him would take it off her shoulders, but to what purpose? “I don’t know all the factors that went into his half-baked decision to do this. Until I do… I just wish he wasn’t on such a healthy, adventurous horse. The two of them together-Oh, well, that’s water under the bridge. Getting him back is the only thing that matters.” The rest of life means nothing.

When he didn’t respond, she forced herself to walk into the kitchen. Working automatically, she threw together a couple of tuna fish sandwiches, her mind bouncing between unwanted thoughts of Matt having to sit out the night in the rain and Cord retreating into the silence that was so much a part of him. Once she hadn’t cared whether Cord went the rest of his life without saying another word. Let him live in solitude! Let him drown in it! Now she wanted to march back into the living room and shake something-anything-more out of him.

Guilt stalked her for not having nailed Matt’s foot to the floor. Cord should feel the same way. She fervently wished she could wring a confession out of him. Instead she put his dinner on a plate and carried it to him. She stood over his slouched, strangely vulnerable-looking form, wondering which of them carried the most guilt and why that should matter. He hesitated a moment and then took the plate.

“Have you already eaten?” he asked.

She could have lied. Instead she shook her head. “I thought about it, but my stomach-it has all it can do to manage the emotions I’ve thrown at it.”

He lowered his gaze to his plate and picked up a sandwich but didn’t bring it to his mouth. Was his stomach as knotted as hers? For some reason, the thought frightened her. Cord Navarro was supposed to be all strength and competence, not mortal like everyone else.

Not scared like her.

“He’s going to be all right,” she said, hating herself because she knew how trite and untested the words were. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “I-”

The phone rang. She reached for it, praying she’d hear her son’s voice at the other end. Instead, her caller was Kevin’s father. He and his wife had just gotten home from a late commitment and had heard that Matt’s parents were looking for him. “I take it there are no updates,” he said.

“I’m afraid not,” she admitted, and filled Hallem Segal in on Cord’s efforts so far. Hallem tried to be reassuring and offered his help. He said she seemed to be holding up well.

If he only knew! She was holding her fears at bay with an iron grip. After hanging up the phone, she glanced over at the clock. How did it get to be 11:00 p.m.? Leaving Cord with his meal, she stepped into Matt’s bedroom. For too long she couldn’t make herself turn on the light. Standing in the dark, she could imagine that her son was curled up in his bed, fist tucked under his chin.

But he wasn’t here, just his essence, his energy and scent; his everything. Feeling overwhelmed, she snapped on the light and forced herself to concentrate on what had brought her in here. Matt’s wool-lined but nearly too small wind breaker wasn’t in its usual place on a hook behind the door. At least he had some kind of covering. Not allowing herself time to take in any more of her son’s cluttered, comfortable room, she walked back into the living room and told Cord what she’d discovered. He nodded.