“Unfortunately, yes,” he told the man who’d already been on the police force when he was still in high school. He quickly explained what he and Shannon were up to. Unlike Shannon, Dale didn’t ask whether he wanted local search and rescue volunteers called out.
“This is your call, Cord,” Dale said. “Just tell me what you need from me.”
“Nothing right now. I’ll be getting in touch with you from time to time to give you updates. I’d like the same thing from you”
“You got it. I’ll contact anyone and everyone I can think of around Arapaho or the other wilderness areas. A nephew of mine is doing fire watch for the forest service this summer. He’s still wet behind the ears, but he can see a hell of a long way from his tower. Who knows. He might be more reliable than I give him credit for.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem. The more eyes you’ve got working for you, the better.”
The sheriff had given him his first break. Although Cord hadn’t gone through the formal training most search and rescue personnel received, Dale had called him to lead an expedition to find skiers buried by an avalanche on Copper. The mission had attracted widespread media attention and when Cord refused to quit until he’d found the last survivor two days after the avalanche, the wire services had picked up the story. As a result, he’d started getting calls from all over the country.
“We’ll have to get together for a beer,” he told Dale. “Just as soon as I get Matt back where he belongs. What does the activity on the mountains look like?”
“Unauthorized activity. That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”
He said yes, alert for sounds of Shannon’s return.
“Yeah,” Dale said after a brief pause. “Yeah. Maybe. The only thing I’ve got is a report from a couple of forest service employees who were working on Breckenridge a few days ago. They heard shots, and when they checked it out, they spotted four, maybe five men with rifles. The men were pretty far away and on the move. By the time the rangers got there, the poachers were gone. My guess, they realized they’d been made and took off.”
“You’re sure they were poachers?” Cord asked, not because he questioned Dale’s conclusion but because this was the last thing he wanted to hear.
“There’s nothing I can take to court, but I’ve been a cop too long not to know the signs. Several men with rifles in the wilderness when it isn’t hunting season. They wouldn’t go all that way for a little target practice. Come on, Cord. You know how that adds up as well as I do.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Look, don’t go getting uptight over this. Like you said, your son could be anywhere. There’s a hell of a lot of territory around here. Chances are, even if those characters haven’t hightailed it, your son won’t get anywhere near them.”
“Dale? I’ve seen what poachers can do.”
The sheriff let out a long, hissing breath. “That killing in Utah last fall. That’s what you’re thinking about, isn’t it? I forgot.”
Cord hadn’t. Although he’d seen a lot of things in his career he wished he hadn’t, the accidental killing of an elderly man and the wounding of his wife by a couple of drunken hunters stood out in his mind.
“I’ll tell you what.” Dale broke through his thoughts. “I’ll get in touch with forest service employees all over the county as soon as we’re done talking. I know a couple of local pilots who’ll probably check out Breckenridge for me, Anything I hear, I’ll pass on to you.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that. And, Dale? I’d like to keep this between you and me. Shannon has enough on her mind without adding anything to it.”
“You got it. Look, Matt can be anywhere. He might have no interest in Breckenridge.”
Maybe. Maybe not, Cord thought after hanging up. What made this so hard was having to face the simple fact that he didn’t honestly know what was going on inside his son’s head. That, and vivid memories of what a bullet was capable of.
At the sound of Shannon’s boots on the floor, he shoved thoughts of Matt’s possible agenda and whether that might bring him in contact with poachers to the back of his mind. His ex-wife. No matter how many times he’d told himself that that was what she was, he’d been unable to exorcise the memories of when she’d been his wife.
Other people, even men aware of how attractive she was, would look at her today and see a competent businesswoman, a strong and mature woman capable of facing everything life dished out, even this.
But deep in her hazel eyes, fear lurked. She wouldn’t talk to him about it, and he wouldn’t bring it up. Avoiding anything of an emotional nature was one of the few rules that defined their relationship these days. They could talk about their respective jobs and lives, their son, her family, the price of gasoline, politics, anything casual friends might discuss. But as for what went on deep inside them-oh, yes, he knew how to avoid that.
“You were talking to someone?” she asked.
“Dale Vollrath.”
“The sheriff? What did he have to say?”
“Not much. Just that he’s going to do what he can here on the ground.”
She gave him a sideways look but didn’t say anything. When she dropped to her knees beside her backpack, he joined her. Still silent, she handed him her spare clothes and watched as he secured her belongings. Her hair hung wetly around her cheeks. He wanted to brush back the strands, wanted to flatten his palms against the side of her neck and hold her there while he kissed her.
Most of all, he wanted to tell her that their son was in no danger, and believe his own words.
Although her parents had said they’d be over right away, Cord wasn’t waiting for them to arrive. Following his lead, Shannon stepped outside. She stood in the cool drizzle and tried to be grateful because both the wind and rain had slackened.
He hadn’t said a word to her since telling her that he’d been talking to the sheriff, but he didn’t need to for her to understand that he was in a hurry to be on his way.
Shoving aside her insane wish to be anywhere but here and doing this, she mounted and checked the pack she’d secured behind her saddle. She briefly wondered why Cord hadn’t helped her, then realized he hadn’t because he needed to know how she was going to handle the physical demands.
Cord, sitting tall and nearly motionless, rode ahead of her. She’d never seen him look more like his Ute grandfather, more in tune with his wet, green, brown, and gray world. He hadn’t said anything about their needing to be quiet so he could listen to his surroundings or whatever it was he did at a time like this. She hoped he would be honest with her about what she needed to do to be the most help but until they’d picked up Matt’s trail-
The sound of squeaking leather and shod hoofs plopping on wet earth kept her aware of where they were. After wiping moisture off her forehead and then deciding it was a useless gesture, she prodded her horse.
She wished she was on Pawnee, taking courage from his strength and energy, but the young, strong, and excitable gelding was with her son-taking him too far from her. There was nothing wrong with the horses she’d chosen, nothing except that they wouldn’t go as fast as she needed them to. But it wasn’t the horses’ fault. Cord set the pace and he seemed to be in no hurry.
She wanted to yell at him and remind him that they had to get out of this high, wide meadow where she’d established her business and reach Arapaho as quickly as possible. But when she took note of the way Cord kept his eyes locked on his surroundings, his alert stance, how he cocked his head sometimes as if listening to something no other human could possibly hear, she understood that he’d thrown his entire being into this task.
What did he see, hear, sense?
Was it good? Bad?
And if bad, how, as Matt’s father, did he deal with it? Maybe, if she told him how horribly hard this was for her, he’d be just as honest and they could draw strength from each other.
Maybe.
“Why couldn’t he have at least picked a sunny day?” she asked, because she was going crazy listening to the
