by Vella Munn
“I don’t know.”
“Okay,” she said patiently. “How about your best guess? Where do you think he is?”
“On his horse.”
“On his horse where?”
“Probably halfway to Yellowstone.”
“What?”
“That’s what he said.” Kevin sounded exasperated. “He thinks he’s so smart. He tried to tell me he’s going on all his dad’s rescues this summer, that his dad needs him. I told him, no way. He doesn’t know nothin ’ ’bout searches and stuff. How can he when he doesn’t even live with his dad? When I said that, he got mad and told me he was too going to rescue people.”
“Yellowstone.” She had to struggle to get the word out, but it was important to keep Kevin on track. “He didn’t really say that, did he?”
“Just about.”
“Kevin.” It was Cord, his voice low and controlled, in command. “This is Matt’s dad. I want you to tell me exactly what he said.”
Chapter 2
Cord concentrated, not just on what Kevin was saying, but the boy’s tone, as well. His son’s friend was obviously more than a little miffed at Matt, maybe so focused on that that he was unable to remember the details of their conversation.
“Let me get this straight,” he said after Kevin had rambled on for several minutes. “Matt had brought over his gear so the two of you could spend the night at the Wagon Creek campground, but you don’t think that’s where he went. He didn’t say anything about coming back home, though, did he?” Kevin’s family lived some two miles from here, an easy horseback ride for a boy who’d been around horses most of his life.
“No. He called me a butthead. Said I didn’t know squat ’bout what you’ve been teaching him. Is it true? You’re really gonna take him wherever you go this summer, even if it’s to the top of the highest mountains in the world?”
Cord had never climbed the Alps, hadn’t so much as mentioned them to Matt as far as he knew. However, he saw no reason to say anything that would lower Kevin’s opinion of his friend any more than it already was. Besides, that wasn’t the point of this conversation.
“Kevin, I started tracking with my grandfather when I was younger than Matt is now. What I told him was, since we’re going to be together for the next three months, he’ll be as much a part of whatever I’m doing as possible.” He didn’t mention that there’d be times when Matt would have to remain at base camps while he was on particularly arduous or dangerous searches.
“Wow! Can I come? My dad—I know my dad’ll let me. And he can talk my mom—”
“Wait a minute,” Cord interrupted with a chuckle. “Let’s deal with one thing at a time. I can’t believe Matt didn’t say anything to you about his plans. Didn’t he at least hint at what he was going to do?”
“Well...”
“Well, what?” From his twice weekly phone calls with his son, he knew there was almost nothing Matt didn’t share with Kevin.
“He—is Matt’s mom still there?”
“Yes, I am,” Shannon said.
“I told Matt he was gonna get in trouble for this, but he said I didn’t know what I was talking about, that you let him do it all the time.”
“What do I let him do all the time?” Shannon asked. Out of the corner of his eye, Cord noted that she’d pressed her hands against her flat stomach, but her voice betrayed nothing of her emotions. Either that, or she had become too much of a stranger for him to know what she was feeling.
“Stay out all night.”
“When it’s something like your place, or a campground I approve of like Wagon Creek, yes,” she said. “But you’re saying he didn’t go there.”
“No,” Kevin said, and Cord felt the weight and heat of Shannon’s eyes on him.
“What did he say?” he prodded because Shannon was slow to speak. Besides, Kevin had a case of hero worship where he was concerned and this conversation might drag on forever if he didn’t exert a little pressure. “It’s very important that I know exactly what’s going on. You’re going to help me in this, aren’t you?”
“Y-yeah. Sure. ’Sides, it’s not like it’s some big secret. I just don’t know why Matt didn’t tell his mom himself.”
“Tell her what?”
“That he’s going campin’ on his own—I swear I don’t know where—for a couple of nights. He said for me to tell her not to worry. He made me promise.”
Not to worry. As if Shannon could do that. He again asked Kevin if Matt had given any indication of where he might be going, but although Kevin stuttered and stammered and then was quiet for too long, the boy swore he didn’t know more than he’d already told them. Cord’s thoughts all too easily fixed on their rugged surroundings, miles and miles of wilderness that had been his childhood backyard. Although Shannon’s address was the little town of ’Frisco, there were massive mountains on all sides. It was said that Summit County, Colorado, boasted more outdoor recreational opportunities than almost anywhere in the country. The area included the Snake and Blue rivers, the Gore and Tenmile mountain ranges, Dillon Reservoir, and a history rich in gold miners and Ute Indians.
In short, there was a hell of a lot of space, most of it capable of hiding a boy bent on proving something to his best friend—and maybe his parents. Mostly his father.
“You’re sure about this?” he pressed. “Matt definitely said he’d be gone two nights?”
“Yeah. He showed me his food. He’s got a lot. Neat stuff he probably wouldn’t have shared with me anyway. ’Sides, he said you weren’t going to be back for a while and he wanted to get into shape for when you needed him.”
“I understand: Being in shape’s important. But so too is letting people know where you’re going to be. I can’t believe he didn’t say anything about his destination. That’s the first rule of wilderness traveling. Kevin, I need you to think. Is it possible he was going to go to Wagon Creek on his own?”
“No way,” Kevin insisted. “He says that’s for babies. Uh, is he going to get into trouble?”
Cord didn’t answer for the simple and yet hard reason that Shannon was responsible for disciplining Matt. True, that would change once father and son were together, but right now Matt technically was living under his ex-wife’s roof, and although he and Shannon hadn’t sat down and had a heart-to-heart about shared child rearing, he’d never once questioned her competence in that department. After all, she’d grown up with parents. She, not he, knew how the roles were played out.
Although he sensed that Kevin was holding something back, Cord was unable to get the boy to reveal more than he already had. Shannon was no more successful, and after a few more minutes, she hung up the phone.
She walked over to her office chair and sank into it, staring and yet not staring at him. She opened her mouth but slowly closed it without saying a word. The mouth he’d once claimed for himself looked tight. Her hands lay on her thighs, the tips pressing into the flesh beneath her jeans. He might not know her thoughts, maybe he never had, but he could read her body language.
She was under control, barely.
Weariness hummed at the edge of his awareness, but he knew how to keep his body’s need for sleep at bay. More times than he could remember, the difference between life and death for someone he’d never met and would never see again depended on his ability to run on nerves and guts and determination. He would rest when he knew where his son—their son—was. When he could wrap his arm around the boy’s shoulder.
“There’s something Kevin isn’t telling us,” he said. “Either Matt swore him to silence, or Kevin’s still mad and that’s how he plans to get back at Matt.”
“You don’t know that. Cord, you hardly know Kevin.”
No, he didn’t because he didn’t live with his son, a fact he tried to think about as seldom as possible. However, he knew how to listen and more times than not that ability made it possible for him to hear things left unsaid—like the tension and fear in Shannon’s voice, like her need for him afte
r all these years. He didn’t want to be needed.
Through the open window, he caught the clean, clear scent of pine and snow-tainted air. He walked over to it and stared out at what he could see of his ex-wife’s world, thinking. Planning. The sky had been clear as he flew in, but that was changing. Clouds that looked like soft pillows tossed against the horizon were changing from white to gray. If they continued to darken—
“What’s the weather forecast?” he asked without turning around.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I heard. What...”
When her voice trailed off, he waited for her to begin again and then listened as her chair squeaked softly in response to her rising. She was wearing boots, but they made almost no sound as she came toward him. He felt her just behind him, her slender body and long limbs making an undeniable impact even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“It was a good winter,” she said softly. “Enough snow to make everyone happy. There’s still some high on Breckenridge, Copper, and Keystone.”
“I know. I can smell it.”
“Can you?” She now stood beside him, not touching him. “The clouds—it might rain.”
“It might.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lift her hand and place it against the screen. Because listening, really listening, came as second nature to him, he heard her soft intake of breath. “What do we do now? What—he’s never done anything like this,” she told him. “Never gone off without telling me what he’s up to, without getting permission first. He’s responsible. Responsible and, damn it, independent. Self-confident.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Just as he’d suspected that Kevin was holding something back, he knew Shannon’s emotions were rising, expanding. He longed to return to the quiet and expendable conversations that defined their relationship these days.
“Do you really?” she repeated. “Cord, I don’t think you have any idea how hurt he was to have you put him off the way you did. He kept saying you should have taken him to Yellowstone, that he could have helped you.”
“I didn’t have time to explain anything to him. He and I didn’t even have time to talk.” Would she agree?
“I know,” she said after another of those whispering breaths of hers, a breath that had once felt as much a part of him as his own. “You had to go after that woman. I tried to explain to him that time was of the essence—he finally said he understood. But he hasn’t seen you for months. That’s what matters to him.”
“Of course it does.”
After that she remained silent, still. Another woman might ricochet off the walls, running off in one direction or another in an unorganized attempt to find her child. Maybe she was waiting for him to take charge—or maybe things were still sinking in for her. Her body language told him some of what was going on inside her, but not enough. He didn’t expect anything different. After all, seven years ago he’d learned how little he understood this woman.
“He’s riding Pawnee,” she said. “I didn’t want him to. That gelding’s only three, full of energy. But I felt sorry for him so I—He could be anywhere.”
“You really believe that?” he asked as the phone rang. Two seconds after she said hello, her impassive features told him the call had nothing to do with Matt.
She didn’t seem to notice he was studying her. She wasn’t a tall woman, five foot seven to his five-eleven. She’d told him that she’d had to endure the nickname Twigs for several years because her arms and legs had been long and skinny. Her legs still went on forever, but then, he’d always loved that about her. He didn’t think she’d gained so much as a pound since their divorce; the real change in her body had come as the result of two pregnancies. When she was a few months’ pregnant with Matt, she’d pointed out—not that he’d needed her to—that she could finally put her bra to real use. Nursing Matt had kept her breasts full and firm and although they’d gone down a little when she weaned him, it hadn’t been much. The same thing had happened with Summer.
Summer. Their daughter.
Belatedly he realized that she had finished her conversation and was talking to him. He was forced to ask her to repeat herself.
“He still doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear, Cord,” she said. “You know how he was as a baby, always exploring. He’s so much like you in that respect.”
“What places does he talk about the most?” he asked as an image of his black-haired, brown-eyed son formed in his mind. It was time to become what he was, a searcher. He didn’t dare let himself be distracted, because this time it was his son out there. “Which ones fascinate him?”
“Which don’t?” She looked around her as if having to remind herself of where she was. “He loves skiing—you know that. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like taking the same run over and over again. He’s always pushing to try something new. All winter he bedevilled me to take him to Vail.” She smiled, almost. “I’ve tried to make him understand how hard it is for me to get away when I’ve got paying customers. And Vail’s too rich for my pocketbook. Here I can get discounts, thank heavens.”
“Shannon, I can send more money.”
“I know you can. You’re already more than generous. But that isn’t the point. He has to understand the value of money.” She looked down at her hands and blinked as if surprised to see that they were tightly clenched. “Places...places he could be,” she said vaguely. “He’s crazy about fishing, but that, like the skiing, has to wait until either one of his friend’s parents or I can take him.”
He knew all about Matt’s passions in life, but let Shannon continue. One thing he’d learned over the years was that giving people something to do, even if it was just talking, kept their minds off the uncontrollable. And Matt had done something his parents had no control over—something Cord had done himself when he was even younger. The difference between him and Matt was that Cord hadn’t had a mother to worry about him—only Gray Cloud, who believed his grandson could accomplish everything he set out to do.
“Skiing season’s over,” Cord noted when she ran down. “What about his fishing pole? Did he take that?”
She shook her head, then pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. She’d done her long, rust-brown hair in one of those pigtail styles that started at the top of the head, and although he knew she’d taken care with the project, she had so much hair that it was nearly impossible to control all of it.
Once, a thousand years ago, she’d let him help her and they’d laughed together at his efforts.
“He and Kevin were going horseback riding and sleeping under the stars at a family campground, not fishing,” she continued. “At least—at least, that’s what I thought they were doing. And now this. I don’t like it, Cord.” Her gaze slid from him back to the building clouds. “I want him home. That’s all.”
He didn’t say anything, not because he didn’t feel the same way but because he didn’t want to frighten her. Whirling away from him, she stalked toward her desk and picked up the phone. She began calling Matt’s other friends. She spoke quickly, matter-of-factly, concerned but not frightened, and he remembered that he’d never seen her panic.
He hoped her self-control wouldn’t be tested before this was over.
I’m going after him.
Cord’s statement had been so calm and matter-of-fact that for several seconds, she hadn’t registered the seriousness of what he’d said. Cord Navarro, who maybe knew more about the wilderness and people who ventured into that wilderness than any man or woman alive, wasn’t content to wait for his son to finish his two-night solo adventure.
Shannon wasn’t, either, of course; that was a given. Learning that none of Matt’s friends had seen or heard from him today had left no doubt in her mind. But to hear Cord say what she’d been thinking forced yet another shiver of alarm down her spine when she was already enough on edge.
They’d been standing at the window, not talking, for no more than a minute while the sound
of the wind in the trees increased. Her mind had been lost somewhere in the past; somewhere with Cord....
“Go after him?” she repeated stupidly. “You don’t even know where to look.”
“Kevin lives on Tenmile Road, doesn’t he? I’ll try to pick up Matt’s tracks from there.”
If anyone else had said that, she would have laughed. But Cord made his living finding the unfindable. In response to his question, she told him that Pawnee had shoes on his front hooves but not the rear ones because he had the bad habit of kicking at other horses. Cord nodded, told her that would help identify the gelding, and then asked which horse he could borrow.
Glad to have something to do, she stepped outside and led the way to the corral. Most afternoons there were people around, but the two college students she’d hired as wranglers were out with groups and she didn’t expect anyone to return for several hours. She shouldn’t have felt isolated and trapped—wouldn’t have if it had been anyone except Cord.
She tried to gauge the wind. Would Matt notice the wind and clouds and rethink, or would saving face with his best friend and proving himself to his father come before wisdom?
Before she could lean her weight into the warped wooden gate, Cord swung it aside and stepped into the corral. Despite her resolve not to gaze at him any more than necessary, she did just that.
When they got married, he’d still been taking on the contours of maturity, but she hadn’t known that. Back then, she’d thought him the most powerful man she’d ever met. Once her mother had asked if she felt safe around him. At first she hadn’t known what her mother was talking about, but then it sunk in. Her mother was worried that Cord might someday use his strength to get what he wanted from her. But that had never been his way.
Never.
Even now he was speaking quietly and calmly to the curious horses who’d come up for a sniff as if being surrounded by animals who weighed over half a ton was as natural as breathing. Perhaps she should have helped run interference; but for too long she couldn’t do anything except listen to him and remember how his voice had sounded as they’d made love, when the tones came from the depth of his being and words she wasn’t sure he remembered or ever acknowledged were ripped from him. When he had given her so much of himself—maybe all he had.