Vella Munn - The Return of Cord Navarro

Before she could think of what, if anything, to do next, Cord finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on the napkin she’d given him. “I appreciate it. I didn’t know I was hungry. That happens when I’m on a search.”

He hadn’t touched the other sandwich or the salad she’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “You lose your appetite?”

“I just don’t think about things like food.” He nodded toward where he’d left the Jeep. “I have my things out there. Do you mind if I grab a little sleep here? There isn’t anything I can do until morning.”

She was surprised he felt he had to ask. Certainly he understood they were in this together until Matt was safely back where he belonged. By way of answer, she walked into her bedroom for a spare blanket. She’d started to hand it to him when she realized what she was doing. Because her living room wasn’t that large, she’d bought a rather small couch. There was no way he could get any rest on it. The youth bed in Matt’s room wasn’t any better.

She held out her hand, indicating she’d help him to his feet. “Take my bed. You’ll need it.”

He stared at her hand for so long that she thought he was going to ignore her impulsive offer. Then, with a sigh that came from deep inside him, he engulfed her fingers with his own. She braced herself against his weight-and more. “Shannon? Thanks.”

“For what?” He stood maybe five inches away, smelling of the forest, of night, of life, of something deep and undeniable and compelling. She’d never been able to look at him without thinking of his substance. If she put her arms around him, as she had a thousand years ago, she’d find nothing except muscle. When he released her hand, she pressed her palm against her leg, wiping away his impression-trying to, anyway.

Cord yawned. “For being…” He indicated the blanket. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. That’s our son out there.”

He gave her a look that made her wonder if he was searching through himself for something-maybe an emotion, maybe certain words, maybe a way of reaching across the chasm between them. She wanted to reach for him and yet the years had turned them into strangers. She might not want to spend the night alone, but she didn’t have the strength or courage to try to hack away at what had gone wrong between them.

Concentrating on every muscle movement, she took a backward step. “I hope, when this is over, we’ll be able to talk.”

“Talk?”

“About-” Why it fell apart for us . She didn’t try to finish. He was right. Except for Matt, they had nothing in common. “About what the two of you will be doing this summer.”

The tarp he’d stretched between four close-growing trees flapped wildly in the wind, the sound waking Matt Navarro from a light sleep. He heard the plop-plop of fat raindrops as they hit the heavy fabric, but so far none of them had reached him. Realizing that, he smiled. Then, although he hated moving, he forced himself to sit up. The night was awfully dark, pitch black in fact. Other people, sissies and cowards, would be inside a tent with a lantern burning. Someone like Kevin sure wouldn’t be here alone; most grown-ups wouldn’t, either. But he wasn’t most people. He was Cord Navarro’s son, brave, part Ute Indian.

Because, like his dad, he didn’t wear a watch, he had no idea what time it was. But then, it didn’t matter. His dad would know; Cord Navarro knew everything important.

Knew that there was nothing to be scared of just because it was dark and no one was anywhere around.

Nothing to be scared of-hadn’t his dad told him that the last time they went camping together?

And he believed what his dad told him.

After listening for a few minutes, Matt decided that the flapping tarp and rain and not Pawnee or owls or some other night creature must have wakened him. It took him a few more minutes to convince himself to crawl out of his cozy mummy bag. Working by feel, he managed to tighten his makeshift roof so it no longer made such a racket. Still using his hands instead of his flashlight, which he didn’t want to risk running down by using any more than absolutely necessary, he checked to make sure his bag hadn’t slipped off the pad his dad had bought so he’d be protected from cool, damp ground. Then he dove back into bed and stretched out his stockinged feet. Only after he’d tucked the bag up around his shoulders did he realize he hadn’t checked to make sure the heavy-duty flashlight was within reach. Darn it, if some animal snuck up on him-

Don’t be scared! Don’t even start thinking like that! Only babies-

I’m not a baby!

I know you aren’t. You’re Cord Navarro’s son. You want him proud of you, don’t you?

’Course I do. I’m not chicken.

Tired of the dumb argument going on inside him, he tried to listen for anything except the rain, but all he heard was Pawnee snorting and pawing the ground nearby. “I’m sorry,” he told the gelding. “How was I supposed to know it was going to rain? Besides, you’ve been rained on worse than this. And snowed on, too. Remember. Why don’t you just go back to sleep like I’m going to?”

Pawnee snorted again. Matt couldn’t tell whether the horse was agreeing or arguing with him. Maybe he was thinking about thunder and lightning, two things that really made. Pawnee show the whites of his eyes. He still felt bad that Pawnee had to be out in the rain while he remained dry, but he didn’t know what he could do about that. He’d been a little unsure of how to tie Pawnee so he wouldn’t wander away during the night, and was irritated with himself for not paying more attention to what his mom had said about how to keep horses from tangling themselves in ropes. When he got back, he’d ask her again and really listen this time.

Mom.

A sharp sense of unease kept him from relaxing enough to fall back to sleep, but then he reminded himself that his mom didn’t know he wasn’t with Kevin. She wouldn’t be worrying. Hadn’t she told him she wasn’t going to call Kevin’s uncle at Wagon Creek to check up on him because it wasn’t as if he’d never gone there before? Kevin might be a king-size butthead, but at least he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. Despite being so mad at Kevin he’d nearly wrestled him to the ground, Matt had stuck around long enough to make sure Kevin understood he was not to tell his mom what his real plans were.

And if she somehow found out that he wasn’t at Wagon Creek, Kevin was to say nothing except that Matt was going to spend two nights camping out and for her not to worry.

Two nights were enough for what he was going to do; at least, he was pretty sure they were.

His shoulders had gotten cold while he was fixing the tarp, but they were already warm again. He’d have to remember to tell his dad that the mummy bag he’d given him was absolutely perfect.

Dad.

Although sleep tugged at him, he tried to imagine where his dad might be tonight. He wasn’t sure how far away Yellowstone was. A long way by car, but his dad had flown his plane. Soon-real soon-his dad would let him take the controls.

And track…track down people who’d gotten lost or hurt and were…

More asleep than awake, he barely heard the owl hooting overhead. His mouth twitched into a half smile as he imagined the round-eyed bird staring down at him. Owls were neat with their big, keen eyes and ears so good they could hear a mouse hundreds of feet away. Their ears-something his dad had told him about their ears.

He’d ask him… tomorrow. No. Not tomorrow, because Cord Navarro was saving some dumb woman, and he was going to climb a mountain all by himself so the next time he wouldn’t be left behind like some baby.