by Vella Munn
“You did?”
“I knew how you felt about my being gone. I thought I knew how much you hurt. I didn’t want us to dwell on that. I thought—I wanted to avoid causing you any more pain. Only, that was the wrong thing to do. I know that now.”
“Cord, I just saw you with that man. You aren’t afraid of anything.”
“Back then I was afraid of your emotions, your grief. My inability to give you the sense of peace I’d found.” He continued slowly, his voice rough. “I can’t be anything except who I am. I was shaped, to a large extent, by my grandfather.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Really?”
Not sure what he wanted from her, she waited.
“Gray Cloud came to the hospital just before my mother died. He found me in an empty room where I’d gone to hide and told me I was going to live with him. Then he took me to see my mother. She opened her eyes and looked at him and he looked back, but they didn’t say anything. After she died, he held me, but he didn’t say a word. I don’t think he ever spoke her name again.”
“Why... not?”
“It was too hard for him. I knew that, in my heart. He’d be watching me and I’d see something in his eyes that told me he was thinking of her. Mourning lost years. He’d touch me or we’d go off into the mountains together and I’d know that was his way of being close to her. And of bringing us together without having to talk about it.”
As she stood listening to the breeze and unseen birds with Cord beside her but not touching, she felt exhaustion seep into her very being. He’d told her something important, something that might, finally, allow her to understand him. But searching for and finding their son had stripped away her ability to think. To feel.
“Cord, we need to get off this mountain. Maybe then...”
He gazed at her for long seconds, then let his attention shift to Matt’s huddled form. Looking at him, she was once again filled with an urgent need to put distance between them. She’d nearly died when their marriage collapsed around her; she couldn’t handle any more emotion. Couldn’t handle anything.
Without telling Cord what she was doing, she walked over to where he and Chuck had fought. She wasn’t sure whether she could see his blood or not; it didn’t matter. What did was facing the fact that Cord had risked his life and now she felt nothing, absolutely nothing. Their marriage had ended seven years ago. It had to remain buried.
When a full minute passed without Cord having said or done anything, she turned back around. He wasn’t where she’d left him. Where—
A sound so light she couldn’t be sure she’d heard it pulled her attention toward Matt. Cord was standing over him, looking so much a part of his surroundings that she wasn’t sure whether he was real. He stared down at his son.
She heard the sound again, a human being in pain. Matt? No. Matt was dead to the world.
Cord. The sound came from him.
She began to tremble but forced herself to remain a silent observer. Slowly, shoulders heaving, he lifted a band to his face and pressed it against his forehead. Then he dropped to his knees, his body hunched over his son’s sleeping form.
Grabbing blindly for something to hold on to, she snagged her palm on a branch but ignored the pain. Cord’s entire body shook, deep spasms wrenched from his soul. She felt heat in her eyes and had no desire to try to stem her own emotion.
Cord, crying for his son.
Alone.
As she closed the distance between them, her left foot brushed against a rotting branch. She kicked it aside, blinked to clear her vision, and kept going. Then when she was only a few inches from him, she stopped. Maybe he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone. If she’d been the one in his place, she’d want and need privacy.
But the two of them already shared the child responsible for his tears.
“Cord?” Feeling as if she’d never touched him before, she laid her right hand along the side of his neck. “He’s all right.”
Silence. Only this one she understood as clearly as she understood the beating of her own heart.
“You found him. No one—no one but you could have done that. He’s alive. Thank God, he’s alive.”
Cord’s body quieted a little. Still, his every breath took incredible effort. Acting instinctively, she leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. He placed a hand on Matt’s cheek; his fingers began a restless, aimless movement over smooth young flesh.
“He’s fine, safe.”
Cord still did nothing to acknowledge her presence. Or rather, if she hadn’t known him—known him in a way she hadn’t comprehended until this moment—she wouldn’t have been aware of the change in him. But although he continued to struggle to control the emotion that had him in its grip, she felt him begin to relax. To find peace within himself.
“Why didn’t you tell me how scared you were?”
“Scared? It wasn’t...that.”
No. It wasn’t. He’d been terrified when he heard the rifle and undoubtedly uneasy from the moment he knew who shared Copper Mountain with them. But his tears had been born of emotion far deeper than fear—love for his son.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know.”
She felt the effort it took for him to push himself to his feet, half saw, half felt him turn toward her, and wondered if he cared that she could see his tears. As soon as he touched her cheek, the question evaporated.
“There’s nothing else in life like it.” His unsteady fingers slid under her chin, found the side of her neck and covered the vein there. “No feeling in the world like what we feel for our children, is there?”
“No, Cord. There isn’t.”
“Love. There aren’t any words.”
Cord’s love for Matt. She’d just seen that in all its beautiful intensity. “No. There aren’t. Sometimes it becomes so powerful there’s nothing to do but cry.”
He nodded. “I love Summer. As much as you do.”
“I know that now.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I’d been able to convey everything I felt and thought when our marriage depended on it.”
“I wish you had, too. No.” Her body became restless; she didn’t know what to do with herself. “That’s a horrible thing for me to say. What you felt for her was there all the time, but I’d wrapped myself into a tight ball and wouldn’t let anything touch me, most of all you. If I’d understood what you were saying when you told me you’d entrusted her to Gray Cloud, if I hadn’t tied myself up in knots —”
“Don’t.”
She spoke with her eyes closed, tracing each word as it flowed from her heart. “Everyone — man, beasts, trees, birds, earth, all share the same breath.” She opened her eyes. “You said that to me earlier today. You tried to tell me the same thing years ago. I heard you today. I should have the first time.”
“I gave you Gray Cloud’s words, not mine, because I didn’t know how to tell you what was in my heart. Shannon?” When he paused, she sensed his struggle and waited him out. “I don’t ever want to do that to you again. I didn’t want to break down. I fought it because—stupid!—I thought I had to keep that to myself.”
“You didn’t.”
“No, I don’t,” he whispered. His eyes darkened, asked her to come into the depths with him. “Shannon, Matt and I don’t always need words.”
“I understand. Now.”
“But he deserves to hear—to see how precious he is to me. Just as I want you to.”
Cord. “You...”
He brushed her hair back from her temple. “You have beautiful eyes. Green like the forest. I fell back in love with you during our search. Or maybe I finally realized I’d never stopped loving you.”
“Oh, Cord.”
“I want you to know that, tonight, tomorrow, for the rest of our lives.”
“The rest—”
His forefinger, steady now, rested on the pulse at the side of her throat. “I love you.”
He was the one with the beautiful ey
es, dark like a midnight forest. “And...and I love you.” Her heart sang the words. She stood on tiptoe, offering her mouth, her heart, to the only man she’d ever loved.
Epilogue
“I love you, little one. Do you understand? Your daddy loves you with all his heart.”
Tears blurred Shannon’s vision. Despite muscles that trembled as a result of the hours of labor and delivery, she eased onto her side so she could study the interplay between Cord and the infant in his arms. Looking totally relaxed, one-hour-old Autumn Navarro yawned and stared wide-eyed at her father’s face.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “So precious. So innocent and helpless. I’m here for you. I will always be here for you, I promise you that.”
Shannon touched Cord’s wrist. Smiling, his eyes misted, he eased his chair closer so she could run her fingers over the silky black hair curling over their daughter’s head—hair as dark and rich as Cord’s. “We were right. We did have a girl.” Like her husband, she could barely form words.
Cord glanced at her, then returned his attention to the pink wrapped bundle snuggled against his strong body. “Do you understand what we’re saying, little one? Your mommy and daddy knew everything about you long before you were born. We didn’t need an ultrasound, didn’t need to pick out a boy’s name just in case. From the moment we realized you were on the way, we had your name waiting for you.”
Autumn had been named for the season of her birth, just as Summer had been. When she was old enough, Autumn would be told that she had a sister who lived with the angels, a fragile, beautiful girl who still held a place in her parents’ hearts.
“She looks so small in your arms,” Shannon said. “So right there. I hoped her hair would be black like yours.”
“There’s so much of it.” Cord caught a curl between his thumb and forefinger and studied it for a long minute. Releasing it, he laid his little finger against his daughter’s hand. Autumn reached out and clamped her fist around it.
“What a grip you have there, young lady.” He laughed, the sound rich and full. “I bet you think you’re stronger than your father. You probably are. Even if I wanted to, there’s no way I could free my heart from your hold on it. Do you have any idea of the power you have? How totally and completely I love you?”
Cord spoke in a sing-song whisper that touched her heart. He’d been there for Autumn’s birth, breathing with her, encouraging, cooling her with damp cloths, giving her courage and strength and will to bring their daughter into the world. They hadn’t talked about it much during her pregnancy, but as they were leaving for the hospital last night, he’d confessed that he was thinking about Summer’s birth. Although they’d been assured that this child was healthy, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it until he held her in his arms.
Now with the morning sun streaming in the window behind him, he had his wish. And she had everything she wanted in life.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. For the first time since the nurse handed Autumn to him, he looked at her fully, his dark eyes alive with love. “You got to hold her for nine months. Now it’s my turn.”
“I’ll remind you of that at 2:00 a.m. Cord?”
“What?”
“I—I hope I never forget the way the two of you look right now.”
Shifting Autumn so she now rested in the crook of his arm, he leaned forward, his mouth inches from hers. “I love you, Shannon. I never stopped loving you. I know I’ve told you that, but I want to say it again.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You mean everything to me. Everything.” Then their lips met, joined, sealed and words were no longer necessary. She locked her arms around his neck and caught their daughter between them. She felt Autumn squirm and give a little yelp of sound that made them both chuckle.
Her parents would be here in a few minutes with Matt, but although she was looking forward to seeing their son’s reaction to his baby sister, she could wait.
For now there was only her and Cord and the new life they’d created; a healthy, giving marriage; love. So much love expressed fully and openly.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-7968-1
THE RETURN OF CORD NAVARRO
Copyright © 1996 by Vella Munn
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York. NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
She touched him, a warm, strong hand on his cheek.
Letter to Reader
Also by
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Copyright