She wanted him so badly that she had to fight herself to keep from reaching for him again. She’d gone to stand near him because she hadn’t been able to free herself from the realization that a part of her still loved him. Something about his very essence had found its way to her. Into her. Her mouth went dry and her heart hurt each time it beat. She felt so alive and sexually charged that her body seemed like hot liquid.
He could still do that to her. Melt her down with a look, a touch, soft words.
She tried to turn her attention to the seemingly impossible task of finding enough flat ground under her so that she could sleep. But her mind was too filled with memories of their lovemaking, with worries about her son.
Sleep was a long time in coming.
Chapter 9
Risking a call while Shannon was still asleep, Cord learned that the sheriff had spent much of the night trying to discover more about the whereabouts of the suspected poachers but so far had nothing to report. He hoped that would change once people, particularly forest service and ski resort personnel, were up and about. After getting his old friend to repeat his promise that he wouldn’t say anything to Shannon, Cord settled back on his sleeping bag and waited for his ex-wife to wake.
It didn’t take long, and he wondered whether she’d somehow sensed his scrutiny of her or if dreams of their son had gotten between her and her need for sleep.
“You’re up,” she said, no surprise in her voice. “I swear, you can get by on less sleep than anyone I’ve ever known. Either that or-nothing happened, did it?”
“No, nothing did. I’m sorry.”
She sat up and he realized that she’d worn a man’s undershirt to bed. For a moment, uncertainty and a jealousy he’d never admit surged through him; who had given her the white cotton? Then he remembered. They’d been married only a few months when she discovered how comfortable his shirts felt, especially when her growing belly made it impossible for her to wear many of her clothes and they didn’t have the money for a maternity wardrobe. Now, although he was out of her life, she still clung to a piece of the past.
After storing away that piece of information, he asked her how she’d slept. Her answer was noncommittal. She studied him for several seconds until he realized she was trying to decide whether to crawl out of her sleeping bag with him watching. Although he should have done the gentlemanly thing and turned away, he didn’t. Instead he made no secret of his interest in her. With a sigh, she threw back the bag and stood. Beneath the shirt, she wore only underpants, which peeked out from under the hem as she pushed herself to her feet. Her legs were as long, as finely muscled as he remembered them. Those muscles, the way she used them to play him, control him, pleasure him…
She returned his gaze, waiting until he’d taken his attention from her legs. Then, “When are we going to get going?”
“As soon as you’re ready,” he told her, his thoughts torn between memories of things better forgotten and the need, the drive, to run his hands along her legs.
“It’ll just take a few minutes. Cord, I don’t like you looking at me that way. It makes me feel…”
“You’re a beautiful woman.”
She blinked and for a second her mouth sagged. “I’m grungy and stiff, not beautiful.” When he didn’t say anything, she ran her fingers through her hair, a gesture that looked sensual, which he was sure was the last thing she’d intended. “What’s for breakfast?” she asked. “I could kill for some bacon and eggs.”
“When we’re done with this, I’ll make some for you.”
“Will you?” She sounded wistful and still off balance. “I’ll tell you what. You do the frying. I’ll tackle the waffles. Matt loves them-he always has.”
“I know. I made them for him when you were in the hospital after Summer’s birth. They were the only things he’d eat.”
“You did? I neglected Matt so much then. If you hadn’t been there-All I could think about was Summer, pray for a miracle.”
“Don’t,” he warned. “Leave her in the past. She doesn’t belong with us today.”
“Doesn’t she?” Shannon retorted. “Cord, you and I had two children. How can you act as if she never existed?”
Suddenly his anger matched hers and, not thinking, he reached into his rear pocket and pulled out the waterproof wallet that held his identification and a few pictures. Stalking over to her, he held one of the pictures out to her. “Maybe I didn’t carry her inside me the way you did, Shannon, but I held her in the hospital. I fell in love with her. She’ll always be part of me.”
Shaken, Shannon ran her fingertips over the faded picture of their infant daughter. She hated seeing the tubes and needles that had been connected to Summer for the five days of her life, but that wasn’t what kept her staring at the photograph. She had a picture her folks had taken of Summer, which she kept in her room; she’d never known about this one, or that Cord carried it with him. Memories of that time, of the deadly helplessness and despair in the face of overwhelming birth defects, hit her hard, but she fought them off.
“Did you take this?”
“Yes,” he said, and although she wasn’t ready, he closed his wallet and put it back in his pocket. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did because I accused you of -” Of what? Of acting as if Summer never existed? Teeth clenched against emotions she didn’t understand, she stared up at her ex-husband. “Cord, I…”
“It’s all right if you cry.”
“Cry? I used to,” she whispered as his suggestion, his unbelievably gentle suggestion, rocked her. “So many things would set me off. But, Cord, I’ve learned that tears don’t change anything.”
“No. They don’t. Don’t talk about her. Not here. Not this way.”
“Don’t talk? That won’t stop me from thinking about her. Don’t you know that?”
He said nothing.
“When Summer died, I thought I’d died with her. I know the doctors told us before she was born that she wouldn’t live, but that didn’t stop-I couldn’t stop myself from loving her.”
“Would that have changed anything?”
“I don’t know!”
“She’s in a better place now. With my grandfather.”
She didn’t feel strong enough for Cord’s words. Self-control might last no longer than a single breath. Still, held there by the reality of Summer’s picture, she was incapable of moving. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard Cord say what he had about their daughter. The day Summer died, he’d placed his hand on the incubator and mouthed words about the spirit world and Gray Cloud being there to show her the way.
When she and Cord had finished saying their goodbyes to Summer and walked out of the neonatal room, he’d put his arm around her and held her against his hard side. He’d said something, words that rumbled and jumbled, words she couldn’t hold on to. She remembered burying her face in his chest and crying until her head pounded and she thought she might die. Maybe he’d gone on talking. Maybe he’d fallen silent.
It didn’t matter. She hadn’t wanted to hear that Gray Cloud was caring for Summer when her own empty arms ached.
Cord should have known that.
Her husband’s arms should have been strong enough to hold back the world.
Instead, two days after the funeral, Cord had gotten a call from the state police in Nevada. He was needed to find an older man who’d wandered away from his fellow campers and was lost somewhere in the stark wilderness around Virginia City. If Cord didn’t get there as soon as possible, the man might not survive.
Damn him and his all-consuming career! He’d had that to give his life direction. That and his faith that Gray Cloud would take care of Summer.
What she had was the echo of his stiff goodbye and a nursery with no baby to fill it. How could she possibly
