expected, half hoped that he would push her away. Instead, he folded her into him and held her tight and safe against his wet but warm body. An unsteady breath brought her the scent of shampoo and soap and something else, some memory of smells hidden under seven years of separate living.
Beyond all reason, she wrapped her arms around him and lay her cheek on his chest. Despite her heart’s unsteady and unwanted pounding, she heard his own heart beating-beating strong. This man, who’d given her two children, a roof over her head, a reason-once-for living, became her world again. It wouldn’t last; it was illusion and delusion, but she would grab it for what it was this stormy morning and take strength from him.
He ran his hand up and down her back, pressing when he reached the base of her spine. He must have meant the gesture to be comforting; certainly he wasn’t interested in eliciting any other response from her. But she had no control over what was happening to her, no way of denying the deeply buried woman who, after all these years, wanted him.
Wanted?
No!
Hoping he wouldn’t notice that she was shaking, she pushed away until he was no longer touching her. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “You’re right. I had too much time for thinking last night. It won’t happen again.”
Chapter 4
Shannon had gone inside ahead of him. By the time he’d placed his backpack on the office floor, she’d left the room. Forcing himself to concentrate on what was automatic and essential about his job, he inventoried his food supply, satisfying himself that he had enough of what could be eaten on the move. He gave the rest of his equipment a quick check. It wasn’t full daylight yet, but he should already be under way. He would be if he had only himself to consider.
Standing, he cocked his head to one side and listened, but couldn’t determine where Shannon had gone. Maybe she was deliberately keeping quiet so she wouldn’t disturb him from what he needed to concentrate on. Or maybe she’d decided to distance herself as much as possible from him.
He wouldn’t blame her. After all, she couldn’t have wanted that embrace any more than he had. Except, he admitted with customary frankness, he
There, a sound. Following it, he found himself standing at the entrance to Matt’s bedroom. Shannon was in there, her back to him as she stared into the jammed and jumbled closet. Some emotion had wrenched the moaning sound from her a few moments ago; he knew that instinctively.
It was a boy’s room, complete with sports posters, cowboy boots, a mound of clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, a stack of nature magazines on a small desk under the window. Matt had told him that his mother had bought him the desk to do his schoolwork on but he preferred to work at the kitchen table closer to his mom. Now the desk held two footballs and a helmet, comic books, a hammer, screwdriver, and pliers. Cord saw something else-the compass he’d given him two years ago. Now Shannon was staring at it, too.
“I’m trying to determine what he took with him,” she said, not looking at him. “The backpack frame you gave him is gone. So is his sleeping bag and ground cover.”
He’d given Matt all of those things.
“But not the compass,” she continued. “He didn’t understand why you’d sent it to him. After all, he said, you never use one.”
“No. I don’t.”
She spun toward him. In the shadowed room, he could barely make out her features and nothing of her thoughts. “He wants to be exactly like you, to find his way with the stars and sun. But he doesn’t have your…your instinct.”
It wasn’t instinct. At Gray Cloud’s side he’d learned to be at home in the wilderness, something he hadn’t been able to teach his son yet because they weren’t together enough. Besides, maybe Matt would never need the skills that were vital to his career. Keeping his voice level, he told her that Matt might not need a compass depending on where he’d decided to go. He didn’t say that father’s instinct was telling him Matt wouldn’t stay on the beaten path.
“What else did he take?” he asked. “Can you tell?”
“Food, a lot of it. When he was getting ready to leave yesterday, I teased him about how much he was packing.” She blinked and he thought he detected a hint of moisture in her eyes. “Cord, he had more than enough food for two boys for a couple of days. Alone…”
Alone he might be able to survive without hardship for the better part of a week, but Matt had told Kevin to let Shannon know he’d be gone only two nights. He reminded her of that now.
Shannon stood next to Matt’s bed, her fingers resting lightly on the pillow. Now that he’d gotten used to the lamplight, he was able to make out much more of her, her practical jeans and boots, the loose cotton shirt that clung damply to her generous breasts and accented her slender waist.
“I can feel him in here,” she said. “I know it shouldn’t make any difference, but it makes me feel better. He’s such a mix, part of him still my little boy, the rest trying to be a teenager.”
“That’s what growing up is about.”
“I know,” she said with something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “But if he was still a toddler, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“Yes, I do. But I’m also disgustingly practical. A taxpaying member of the middle class. I’m not a rock-headed ten-year-old with more energy and dumb determination than sense.”
“Rock-headed?”
“Stubborn. Strong-willed. Whatever you want to call it. Anyway-” She looked around, as if trying to reorient herself. “That backpack frame is his most prized possession. I can’t remember how many times he’s had me watch him walk around with it on. He says the fit and balance is just right, that he…that he could hike all day with it on his back and not get tired.”
He wanted to comfort her and again reassure her that everything was going to turn out all right, but he couldn’t concentrate on that with what she’d just told him making its impact. Something he’d sent Matt was his prize possession.
“Cord, look.”
She had gone back to the closet and was pulling out a tightly wrapped tent-the domed model he and Matt had picked out together the Christmas before last.
“And he didn’t take his propane stove, either,” she continued. “No tent. No stove. What was he thinking?”
Cord leaned against the doorjamb, easily imagining Matt sleeping in this room. “I bought him the tent and stove so he could go camping with his friends, but he knows I don’t use either of those things.”
She seemed to sway a little. “In other words, he wants to do everything you do the way you do. Walk around without a compass. Sleep under the stars-or in the rain. Eat nothing but cold food. Damn you, Cord.”
There was no anger behind Shannon’s words, and he didn’t take offense. Instead, he was glad she’d been able to discharge a little of the tension she must be feeling.
“Shannon-”
“Don’t tell me he’s going to be all right. I don’t want to hear that when neither of us has any idea what he’s doing. Or where he is.”
He’d been about to ask if Matt had been wearing riding or hiking boots, but didn’t. Instead he studied her standing in their son’s room and knew he would never forget the sight. Then he turned and walked back down the dark hall. He didn’t want to leave her in there alone, but she’d lived without him for the past seven years and didn’t need him for anything anymore-except to return her son to her.
