The Return of Cord Navarro

“I can’t say for sure. From the angle of his prints, its obvious he was headed toward the spring.”

“He…he’s thinking he’ll have to follow the creek all the way to the bottom, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

A sudden sense of urgency washed over her. With all her heart, she wanted to be able to cut the bruise out of the remaining apple and feed it to Matt. She wanted to watch as Cord clutched his son to his chest.

Only two things held her back: realization that the thick brush around the little creek could accommodate a child but prove daunting to adults, and the belief that no one else in the world except Cord could possibly know what she was experiencing at this moment.

“I thought…” She shuddered. “I tried so hard not to think about it, but I couldn’t help – There’ve been times when I was terrified of what we’d find.”

“So was I.”

No. Cord wasn’t supposed to have nightmare. thoughts. Although she’d accused him of having buried his emotions so deep that he might have lost them, she needed him to be as strong and confident as her mythical Indian scout, a miracle-working machine.

“You? You were-”

What was that?

Cord started, suddenly gripping her with a strength that took her breath away.

A rifle shot!

Comprehension of what she’d heard came so close on the heels of Cord’s reaction that she couldn’t separate the two. Her blood seemed to stop in her veins; her heart skittered; her lungs screamed with the need for breath but she couldn’t remember how to accomplish that incredibly difficult task.

Another shot! A rifle blast echoing, at the same time sounding so close that if Matt hadn’t been more important than her own life, she would have dropped to the ground.

“No!” Cord’s deep scream all but shattered her senses. “Oh, God, no!”

Chapter 13

“Cord! Wha-”

“Poachers.”

How did he know? Cord didn’t give her half a second in which to ask. Whirling away, he plunged into the thick shrubbery. Alive with fear, she followed his lead. He was already deep in the underbrush and making more noise than she’d ever heard from him, but it wasn’t the sound that made her plow after him.

He’d begun yelling Matt’s name.

She shoved herself around a stunted evergreen and struggled to keep up with him. “Cord, stop it! You’ll scare-”

“Hunters! If they’ve shot…Matt! Matt! Stay where you are!”

Shot! Her legs weakened, but she refused to give in to the dread that instantly replaced all other emotion.

When they reached the narrow, ambling water, there were enough rocks on either side that brush had been unable to get much of a toehold on the bank. She could run without worrying that some sharp branch might slap her face; still she was unable to keep up. Foot by foot, Cord increased the distance between them. Still, the air felt alive with his fear.

“Matt! I’m here! Mom, too. Matt, please! Where are you?”

Once more she heard the horrible explosion of sound she so hated during bunting season. Cord stared over his shoulder at her; whatever he was experiencing had so altered his features, she barely recognized him.

What she saw terrified her.

“Cord?” she sobbed. “Cord, please!”

Instead of answering her insane plea, he yanked off his pack without losing stride and kept running. She jumped over it, nearly lost her footing, and struggled with her own burden. By the time she’d flung it off, Cord had disappeared.

A thousand emotions boiled up inside her-rage at whoever might have cost Matt his life, a desperate plea to give Cord the strength and speed to get to their son before it was too late. Prayers to God, to Gray Cloud’s Great Spirit.

Guided by a trail that might not have been one to any other eyes, she followed Cord. Her heart beat so rapidly that it robbed her of the breath she needed, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Nor did she waste time in cries Cord wouldn’t pay attention to and Matt might no longer be able to hear.

Sweat broke out on her temple. Angry, she wiped it away. The rest of the time, she kept her hands close to her body so a branch wouldn’t snag her-Indian style, the way Cord had taught her.

And she prayed to the spirit that moves in all things to shelter and protect a ten- year-old boy.

Had she lost sight of the creek? For a moment, the sudden change in terrain confused her. Then she realized she was back on rocks where precious little growth could take root. Blinking back tears of desperation, she stared at her surroundings.

She could see for a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty feet. At the far end of the unexpected clearing, she caught a glimpse of faded denim and white cotton.

Cord. Kneeling over something, eyes trained on his surroundings, body ready, not for flight, but fight.

She didn’t know she’d shoved her fist in her mouth until she tasted blood. Somehow she forced herself to stop clenching her teeth, but now she couldn’t make herself move.

She’d turn around. Walk away.

That way she’d never have to see if her son had been killed.

But she was, above everything else in life, a mother. No matter what had happened, she couldn’t leave.

When she started running again, her legs felt so heavy that twice she stumbled. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Cord’s hunched form now holding something-someone.

Don’t let him die, Cord. For me, for you, for the rest of our lives – don’t let him die.

“Mommy!”

Matt’s voice washed over her like a sudden, brilliant sunrise. Stripped of muscle and bone, she dropped to her knees beside father and son.

“Mommy!”

Eyes wide and deep and boiling with emotion, Cord clutched Matt tightly to his chest. All she could do was touch her son’s back, run her fingers into his hair, draw in the smell of little-boy sweat. Sob in relief.

“Are you all right? Oh, Matt…Cord?”

“They didn’t hit him. Thank God, they didn’t…” Cord gaped at her, then stared at his surroundings.

Her heart ached. Only embracing Matt would take away the pain. Yet Matt had his arms around Cord’s neck, his face buried against his father and was crying a little, muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, and she knew that no other sound on earth would ever mean as much as hearing his voice at this moment did.

Hot tears burned their way down her cheeks. She should wipe them away, blunt a little of her fear and relief so Matt would recognize her as his mother and not a half-insane woman, but she couldn’t take her hands off him long enough for that.

“I tried. Dad, I wanted you to be proud of me.”

“I know you did.”

“But I got lost. You’re never lost.”

All too soon she became aware of the cadence of silence. Cord should say something to his son, some words of reassurance and love. Instead, he simply knelt on dirt and rocks and held Matt. She couldn’t see his face now, could only guess at what was going on inside him.

“It’s all right.” She spoke for her ex-husband. “You did a wonderful job, honey. You were so brave, so strong,