he knew where his son-their son-was. When he could wrap his arm around the boy’s shoulder.
“There’s something Kevin isn’t telling us,” he said. “Either Matt swore him to silence, or Kevin’s still mad and that’s how he plans to get back at Matt.”
“You don’t know that. Cord, you hardly know Kevin.”
No, he didn’t because he didn’t live with his son, a fact he tried to think about as seldom as possible. However, he knew how to listen and more times than not that ability made it possible for him to hear things left unsaid-like the tension and fear in Shannon’s voice, like her need for him after all these years. He didn’t want to be needed.
Through the open window, he caught the clean, clear scent of pine and snow-tainted air. He walked over to it and stared out at what he could see of his ex-wife’s world, thinking. Planning. The sky had been clear as he flew in, but that was changing. Clouds that looked like soft pillows tossed against the horizon were changing from white to gray. If they continued to darken-
“What’s the weather forecast?” he asked without turning around.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I heard. What…”
When her voice trailed off, he waited for her to begin again and then listened as her chair squeaked softly in response to her rising. She was wearing boots, but they made almost no sound as she came toward him. He felt her just behind him, her slender body and long limbs making an undeniable impact even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“It was a good winter,” she said softly. “Enough snow to make everyone happy. There’s still some high on Breckenridge, Copper, and Keystone.”
“I know. I can smell it.”
“Can you?” She now stood beside him, not touching him. “The clouds-it might rain.”
“It might.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lift her hand and place it against the screen. Because listening,
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Just as he’d suspected that Kevin was holding something back, he knew Shannon’s emotions were rising, expanding. He longed to return to the quiet and expendable conversations that defined their relationship these days.
“Do you really?” she repeated. “Cord, I don’t think you have any idea how hurt he was to have you put him off the way you did. He kept saying you should have taken him to Yellowstone, that he could have helped you.”
“I didn’t have time to explain anything to him. He and I didn’t even have time to talk.” Would she agree?
“I know,” she said after another of those whispering breaths of hers, a breath that had once felt as much a part of him as his own. “You had to go after that woman. I tried to explain to him that time was of the essence-he finally said he understood. But he hasn’t seen you for months. That’s what matters to him.”
“Of course it does.”
After that she remained silent, still. Another woman might ricochet off the walls, running off in one direction or another in an unorganized attempt to find her child. Maybe she was waiting for him to take charge-or maybe things were still sinking in for her. Her body language told him some of what was going on inside her, but not enough. He didn’t expect anything different. After all, seven years ago he’d learned how little he understood this woman.
“He’s riding Pawnee,” she said. “I didn’t want him to. That gelding’s only three, full of energy. But I felt sorry for him so I-He could be anywhere.”
“You really believe that?” he asked as the phone rang. Two seconds after she said hello, her impassive features told him the call had nothing to do with Matt.
She didn’t seem to notice he was studying her. She wasn’t a tall woman, five foot seven to his five-eleven. She’d told him that she’d had to endure the nickname Twigs for several years because her arms and legs had been long and skinny. Her legs still went on forever, but then, he’d always loved that about her. He didn’t think she’d gained so much as a pound since their divorce; the real change in her body had come as the result of two pregnancies. When she was a few months’ pregnant with Matt, she’d pointed out-not that he’d needed her to-that she could finally put her bra to real use. Nursing Matt had kept her breasts full and firm and although they’d gone down a little when she weaned him, it hadn’t been much. The same thing had happened with Summer.
Belatedly he realized that she had finished her conversation and was talking to him. He was forced to ask her to repeat herself.
“He still doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear, Cord,” she said. “You know how he was as a baby, always exploring. He’s so much like you in that respect.”
“What places does he talk about the most?” he asked as an image of his black-haired, brown-eyed son formed in his mind. It was time to become what he was, a searcher. He didn’t dare let himself be distracted, because this time it was his son out there. “Which ones fascinate him?”
“Which don’t?” She looked around her as if having to remind herself of where she was. “He loves skiing-you know that. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like taking the same run over and over again. He’s always pushing to try something new. All winter he bedevilled me to take him to Vail.” She smiled, almost. “I’ve tried to make him understand how hard it is for me to get away when I’ve got paying customers. And Vail’s too rich for my pocketbook. Here I can get discounts, thank heavens.”
“Shannon, I can send more money.”
“I know you can. You’re already more than generous. But that isn’t the point. He has to understand the value of money.” She looked down at her hands and blinked as if surprised to see that they were tightly clenched. “Places…places he could be,” she said vaguely. “He’s crazy about fishing, but that, like the skiing, has to wait until either one of his friend’s parents or I can take him.”
He knew all about Matt’s passions in life, but let Shannon continue. One thing he’d learned over the years was that giving people something to do, even if it was just talking, kept their minds off the uncontrollable. And Matt had done something his parents had no control over-something Cord had done himself when he was even younger. The difference between him and Matt was that Cord hadn’t had a mother to worry about him-only Gray Cloud, who believed his grandson could accomplish everything he set out to do.
“Skiing season’s over,” Cord noted when she ran down. “What about his fishing pole? Did he take that?”
She shook her head, then pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. She’d done her long, rust-brown hair in one of those pigtail styles that started at the top of the head, and although he knew she’d taken care with the project, she had so much hair that it was nearly impossible to control all of it.
Once, a thousand years ago, she’d let him help her and they’d laughed together at his efforts.
“He and Kevin were going horseback riding and sleeping under the stars at a family campground, not fishing,” she continued. “At least-at least, that’s what I thought they were doing. And now this. I don’t like it, Cord.” Her gaze slid from him back to the building clouds. “I want him home. That’s all.”
He didn’t say anything, not because he didn’t feel the same way but because he didn’t want to frighten her. Whirling away from him, she stalked toward her desk and picked up the phone. She began calling Matt’s other friends. She spoke quickly, matter-of-factly, concerned but not frightened, and he remembered that he’d never seen her panic.
He hoped her self-control wouldn’t be tested before this was over.
Cord’s statement had been so calm and matter-of-fact that for several seconds, she hadn’t registered the seriousness of what he’d said. Cord Navarro, who maybe knew more about the wilderness and people who ventured into that wilderness than any man or woman alive, wasn’t content to wait for his son to finish his two- night solo adventure.
Shannon wasn’t, either, of course; that was a given. Learning that none of Matt’s friends had seen or heard
