by Vella Munn
Understood, suddenly, the true meaning of danger.
“We can’t—it isn’t—” she began.
“You don’t want...”
No. Not that. Surely not that. “Cord? What we’re doing, it’s—we’re insane. We know better. We should.”
“And you don’t want it.”
If he’d asked a question she could have told him how wrong he was, but he’d misinterpreted and she suddenly felt too exhausted to try to explain. Wondering how long it would take her body to release his memory, she twisted away from him until a full foot of night air separated them.
“You’re wrong,” she whispered. “I want. Oh, how I want.”
Chapter 10
Matt pulled off his boot and twisted his foot around so he could stare at his heel, but the moon wasn’t bright enough to be much help. Despite his aching knees, he’d felt the blister all the time he was walking today and had hoped it wouldn’t pop. Well, it had. As an owl complained about something, he tried to remember what his mother had said about how to take care of a blister.
Mom wasn’t here. He’d have to figure out what to do on his own. After a moment he had an idea. He’d clean the blister in the little creek he’d come across just before dark and then leave it open to the air during the night. Air was good for a lot of things, wasn’t it? That had to be why Mom blew on his scrapes and scratches.
Had Mom called around to see what he was up to after all? Sure, she’d said she wasn’t going to because she knew he would be safe at the campground, but she sometimes still thought of him as a little kid. If she learned—
Learned what? Kevin promised he wouldn’t tell.
Kevin’s a jerk. Besides, if she so much as sees him, she’ll know Something happened.
She won’t. She promised.
Yeah. And you promised you’d go to that dumb old campground with Kevin.
Sick of what was going on inside him, he scurried on hands and knees to the tree he’d decided to spend the night under. The moon was glinting off the little bit of water just enough to turn the darkness there a real interesting-looking silver. Maybe in the morning he’d spot a fish and figure out a way to catch it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with the fish once he had it, but he’d seen his father cut some open and hoped he’d remember how.
What was he thinking? There wouldn’t be any creek here if it wasn’t for the last bit of snow runoff. Fish weren’t in it, just some little insects and maybe frogs. Besides, he didn’t have any way of cooking anything and he’d never kill something he didn’t have a use for. That’s what his dad al ways said, don’t kill anything if there’s any other way. He wanted his dad to be proud of him.
Wait a minute! Maybe Dad was looking for him. Oh, gosh! If Mom had somehow learned that he’d decided to climb Copper, she would have found a way to get in touch with Dad.
He couldn’t let his dad find him. No way! For a moment, he nearly changed his mind; he didn’t like how that stupid old owl kept hooting as if he was laughing at him. But he’d fallen asleep last night listening to an owl and his father’s calm voice inside his head and hadn’t woken up even once. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of in an owl. Or in a bear. His dad had told him that years ago and he hadn’t forgotten, still believed.
Just the same, he looked around, wondering despite himself if he might see little bear eyes staring at him. Instead he heard more owls and buzzing insects and other things he didn’t recognize and the wind slapping away at the pine needles in the trees. And then he noticed something glowing off in the distance. Maybe someone a long way away had a powerful flashlight, maybe one of those heavy things he’d seen police carry.
Seeing proof that he wasn’t alone up here reminded him of the smoke he’d noticed yesterday. There had been a lot of smoke, too much in fact. If he had a match and it was all right to build one here, he sure wouldn’t make one like that. If those people—whoever they were—weren’t careful and started another fire, they might set the woods on fire.
His dad would never do anything like that. Cord Navarro knew how to build a fire that used just the littlest bit of wood and hardly made any smoke but would keep a person warm for hours. Indians did neat stuff like that, and his dad knew more about the woods and fire building and bears and stuff than any of the Indians he’d ever seen on TV or at the movies.
If his dad was anywhere around, he sure wasn’t with whoever had the flashlight. He was positive of that because his dad would have somehow sensed he wasn’t alone out here—would know how close his son was.
Those guys, whoever they were, must be hikers. What other reason would they have to be way up here on Copper?
“What the hell are you doing?”
Whirling, Owen tucked the flashlight against his soft belly as if trying to protect both it and him. “Nothing.”
What was it with Owen? Chuck Markham thought. The man had to be at least forty and yet he acted like some lamebrain kid. “You’re going to use up that damn thing.”
He indicated the flashlight, not caring that both Elliot and Andrew had stopped their conversation to listen.
“I heard something.” Owen pointed at the trees. “I was trying to figure out what it was.”
“Owls.” Chuck snorted. “You heard owls. This area’s lousy with them.”
“That’s about the only thing.” Elliot spoke up. “Look, the three of us have been talking. So far the only thing we’ve gotten out of this hunting trip is blisters and a lot of hype from you, plus too damn much criticism. If you think you’re going to get more out of us by dragging things out, you’ve got another think coming”
“Is that what you think?” Chuck challenged. Flashlight still tucked against his belly, Owen had sidled closer to Elliot and Andrew, leaving him standing alone. “I thought you said you’d checked out my reputation before signing on with me. If you didn’t like what you heard, what are you doing here?”
Elliot laughed, his voice going high at the end. “You know better than we do that the country’s not exactly crawling with guides willing to give us what we want.”
What Elliot was saying was that not many people had the guts to risk imprisonment because a sizable chunk of money was waved under their chin. Fine. He didn’t mind being one of a kind. “We’ll find what you’re after,” he said. “Keep those rifles loaded, gentlemen. You’re about to get what you came for.”
“Cord? My mother wants to talk to you.”
Surprised, Cord took the two-way radio from Shannon. Elizabeth’s voice sounded slightly hollow and jerky, but despite the distance that separated them, he heard everything she said. “I didn’t have time to talk to you before you started after Matt,” she said. “And when we talked earlier it was pretty businesslike. I hope you haven’t settled down for the night.”
He wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to sleep tonight, not unless he could shut off memories of those risky moments he and Shannon had spent in each other’s arms. That and men’s footprints. “Not yet,” he told his former mother-in-law.
“I just want you to know,” Elizabeth continued. “I’m sure you’ve heard this already—but I’m so glad it’s you up there. Cord, there’s no doubt? You’re sure it’s my grandson you’re tracking?”
He told her he had no doubt, then waited for what else she needed to say. Last Christmas when he’d come by to pick up Matt, he’d felt awkward being in the same room with Shannon’s parents while Matt unwrapped his presents. Christmas was family time and he wasn’t part of their family anymore. Since the divorce, he’d kept his contact with Matt’s grandparents to a minimum, assuming that was what they wanted.
Tonight none of that mattered.
“I know I shouldn’t allow myself to think about everything that can go wrong,” Elizabeth was saying. “Everyone tells me to think positive. And I do—but...”
He didn’t need further explanation. Wasn’t his own mind full of thoughts of what might happen if Matt had an accident or the poachers mistook his son for some animal? �
��Elizabeth, just before it got dark, Shannon and I placed our hands over the mark Matt made sleeping last night. What I’ve seen this afternoon convinces me he’s in good shape physically.” Except that he’s limping. “We’ll find him.” If a bullet doesn’t first.
“You promise me?”
Not once in his career had he allowed himself to be backed into making a commitment beyond his control. But it was different this time. Elizabeth was asking her former son-in-law, the man who’d gotten her teenage daughter pregnant, to take responsibility for the result of that pregnancy in a way far more important than any that had gone before.
“I promise,” he said when he knew he might not be able to make good on his words.
“Oh...Cord? It helps to hear you say that. I can’t tell you how much.”
He didn’t have to be told; he heard it in her voice. Careful to keep emotion out of his voice, he said that from what he’d been able to tell, Matt wasn’t frightened. Lost but not scared. “You should be proud of him. I am. A lot of children in his position frighten themselves. Their fear works against them.”
“If he’s not afraid, it’s because of what you’ve taught him.”
I haven’t taught him enough. “I hope so,” he told her honestly. In the few minutes they’d been talking, her voice had lost its taut tone. I’m sorry, he wanted to tell her. Sorry I robbed your daughter of the last of her girlhood and made her a woman too soon. Sorry I didn’t turn out to be what she needed.
“Cord? Just bring him back to me, please. Holding him is the only thing I want in life. Shannon, too—I’m sure of that.”
The only thing she wants in life. Of course. Nothing else mattered.
In the half hour since they’d pulled out of each other’s arms, he had busied himself with tending to their boots and taking mental pictures of their surroundings in an effort to determine where Matt was most likely to be. He’d told Shannon what he was doing because he knew she needed to hear that, but he’d barely been able to put the words together. Too much energy bad gone into trying to make his body forget what holding her had done to his self-control. She’d wanted and needed the embrace as much as he did; he’d never doubt that. They’d been like birds about to take flight, testing the wind, eager for that incredible sense of freedom. But they’d both seen the danger in time.
He acknowledged what remained of his need for her and again cast it off. That time in each other’s arms had been insanity, the result of too much tension and isolation.
Maybe not insanity. Maybe echoes of something they’d once had but had died long ago.
An ache behind his right temple served as the distraction he needed. This wasn’t the time for letting the past overtake him. He had to concentrate on his surroundings, and learn who might be sharing it with them.
And when he had that information, he would have to tell Shannon. Somehow.
Shannon could only guess at Cord’s reaction to what her mother had said to him. Obviously something had hit a nerve with him. Nothing else would have made him walk out into the dark until, if it hadn’t been for the moon, he would have disappeared completely.
Earlier tonight she hadn’t been able to look at him without remembering the seemingly endless dance of their lovemaking, wanting back what had brought them together all those years ago. She’d always accepted his silence in bed. What had she needed with words back then when his body spoke for him? Only, time and wisdom and experience had taught her that a body wasn’t enough. The holes in him, his incomplete heart, his inability to see into her and understand that she needed more than sex—needed compassion and emotional honesty, those were the things that had torn them apart. And what had taken him from her side tonight.
Unmindful of her bare feet, she stood and started toward him. She wasn’t sure why, just that she sensed that something precious was in danger of fading into the night and if she didn’t reach out for it, she might spend the rest of her life regretting it. Talking about Summer, learning that he carried their daughter’s picture, had caused some of her melancholy. As for the rest—She tried to walk silently the way Cord had done several times today when observing some wild creature. It seemed to her that she didn’t make any sound, but if Cord could sense the presence of fox kits hidden beneath the ground, surely he sensed her.
Still, he didn’t turn. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe... Knowing she might be risking a return to what bad been so hard to break free from earlier, she touched his back. He didn’t move and yet she sensed something change deep within him. “My mother said something that’s bothering you, didn’t she? I wish you’d talk to me about it,” she whispered. There was just the two of them in this world of night and wilderness sounds. Just this man who had embraced and been embraced by that wilderness.
He remained still, not speaking for so long that she began to break inside. Then, “She said that having Matt back is the only thing she wants in life. You, too.”
Her mother’s words hit her with the force of a blow. They must have done the same to Cord, and that’s why he’d let darkness absorb him. “It’s the truth.”
“I know.”
“But... didn’t you expect that from her?”
Through her fingers, she felt him draw in a deep breath. “I didn’t expect her to be that honest with me.”
Why? Oh, Cord, what does it feel like to be set apart from others this way? “My mother believes in keeping her opinions to herself, not that I have to tell you that. It took this for her to break through all those polite layers.”
She thought that might turn him around, but he continued to stare off at nothing. Only the night wasn’t nothing for him. He knew which creatures embraced it, who hunted and who was hunted. Lost in thoughts of his place in a mountain night, she ran his shirt fabric between her fingers. He shifted his weight so that he now angled himself toward her slightly. “Why did you come back here?” he asked.
“To Summit County?” Is this what we’re going to talk about? Decisions from the past?
“You were so eager to leave it. When we got married, you told me you needed to move away so you could get an education and make use of it.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” Almost before the words were out of her mouth, she winced. After everything they’d shared in the past few days, she didn’t want to skirt around his question. “I don’t know why I returned. At least, I didn’t know what I was going to do when I packed my bags and... and—”
“When you walked out of the apartment we were living in.”
We? He’d hardly ever been there. Although she now felt petty saying it, she reminded him that she’d paid the utilities and rent before leaving, even stocked the refrigerator for him.
“I never spent another night in it.”
She hadn’t known that. “Why not?”
“The memories.”
Memories. “I should have—I didn’t know how to handle any of that.”
He nodded. “Neither did I.”
“Oh. Oh.”
He turned fully around, presenting himself to her, taking over everything. “Did your parents want you to live near them?”
“They...had nothing to do with my decision.” She didn’t dare acknowledge his gaze; she might forget what she wanted him to understand. “I got in the car and started driving. This is where I wound up. Of course, my folks were happy and for a while I let them spoil me. But—”
“But you don’t like it when someone tries to take care of you.”
He knew that about her. What else hadn’t the years erased? “No. I don’t.” She thought about rubbing warmth into her arms, but he might guess she felt uncomfortable in her body. She finally gripped her right elbow with her left hand. “I think, when I realized I couldn’t spend another night waiting for you to be there for me—to look at you and think of you as a stranger—nothing but home called to me.”
“Your childhood home, not the one we’d made.”
“We didn’t have a home. Not what I needed, thought I needed. Oh,
Cord, I was so confused. Hurting. All I knew was, I would lose my mind if I didn’t do something. I knew I needed space around me. That apartment you felt penned up in, it got that way for me, too. I needed to smell pines and look at mountains and...and support Matt and myself doing something I loved. I needed to go on with life.” Put you behind me.
“You’ve done well,” he said softly. “You’ve made a success of your business.”
She’d been concentrating on where his voice came from for so long that her mind filled in what her eyes couldn’t see in the dark. She knew he’d removed his boots and was walking around barefoot just like her. It wouldn’t take much for the wilderness to absorb him; if it did, would she ever find him again? “It’s been a lot of work, but then, I don’t have to tell you what it’s like to be self-employed. You know about the sacrifices, the uncertainty.”
“Yes.” His voice threatened to encircle her. She started to fight it, but that single word was so quickly followed by others that she remained off balance. “Only, when it’s something you truly want to do, or feel compelled to do, it doesn’t feel like a sacrifice, does it?”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Matt’s proud of you.”
Warmth at Matt’s endorsement spread through her, followed by even more realization of how much communication took place between father and son. Maybe Matt even sensed his father’s presence tonight. She could at least hope. “He can see what I’m doing on a daily basis. A lot of kids can’t say that.”
“I know.”
She thought she understood what was behind Cord’s pensive tone, that he envied what she had. She nearly told him so, but everything they said to each other seemed so complex and she was worn out from trying to deal with her reaction to being here, alone, with him. She shifted her weight onto her right leg and began absently rubbing her hand up and down her arm. “I thought Matt might balk at having to help with the horses. A lot of his friends don’t have any real responsibilities and have a lot more free time. But I don’t think he minds. At least, he’s never said.”