The Return of Cord Navarro

completely disguise his body language. He leaned forward and ran his hand over the back of his neck in that gesture she had given up trying to forget.

“Darn him!” The words were out before she knew they’d been bottled inside. “Doesn’t he know what he’s doing to us?” She pressed her fingers against her mouth. “I’m sorry. That isn’t the point right now, is it?”

“No. It isn’t.”

Chapter 3

“It’s going to rain tonight.”

Shannon didn’t need Cord to spell out the obvious. Besides, he should realize she didn’t want to think about what Matt might have to endure tonight. “This isn’t the first time he’s pushed his boundaries. Pushed himself I should say,” she admitted. “He’s a good boy. But…he has a lot of you in him.”

Cord blinked slowly, the movement hitting her somewhere deep and unwanted. “I know he does.”

“He needs space,” she continued, feeling her way past memories of their years together, buried years. “He’d rather be outside than in no matter what the weather. And he’d rather die than sit still.”

“Yes, he would.”

Yes, he would. Words of understanding between parents. Darn it, she wouldn’t let him get close!

“Cord, I’ve been thinking. That’s all I did while you were gone. Think. The other day I heard Matt on the phone telling someone about all the places he was going to go with you. That someday the two of you would-”

“I can’t be with him all the time, Shannon.”

“I didn’t say you should.”

“But if I’d been here today, he wouldn’t have gone off.”

“No. He wouldn’t have. But we can’t do anything about that, can we?”

“Do you blame me?”

She wanted to. Heaping responsibility on him would take it off her shoulders, but to what purpose? “I don’t know all the factors that went into his half-baked decision to do this. Until I do… I just wish he wasn’t on such a healthy, adventurous horse. The two of them together-Oh, well, that’s water under the bridge. Getting him back is the only thing that matters.” The rest of life means nothing.

When he didn’t respond, she forced herself to walk into the kitchen. Working automatically, she threw together a couple of tuna fish sandwiches, her mind bouncing between unwanted thoughts of Matt having to sit out the night in the rain and Cord retreating into the silence that was so much a part of him. Once she hadn’t cared whether Cord went the rest of his life without saying another word. Let him live in solitude! Let him drown in it! Now she wanted to march back into the living room and shake something-anything-more out of him.

Guilt stalked her for not having nailed Matt’s foot to the floor. Cord should feel the same way. She fervently wished she could wring a confession out of him. Instead she put his dinner on a plate and carried it to him. She stood over his slouched, strangely vulnerable-looking form, wondering which of them carried the most guilt and why that should matter. He hesitated a moment and then took the plate.

“Have you already eaten?” he asked.

She could have lied. Instead she shook her head. “I thought about it, but my stomach-it has all it can do to manage the emotions I’ve thrown at it.”

He lowered his gaze to his plate and picked up a sandwich but didn’t bring it to his mouth. Was his stomach as knotted as hers? For some reason, the thought frightened her. Cord Navarro was supposed to be all strength and competence, not mortal like everyone else.

Not scared like her.

“He’s going to be all right,” she said, hating herself because she knew how trite and untested the words were. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “I-”

The phone rang. She reached for it, praying she’d hear her son’s voice at the other end. Instead, her caller was Kevin’s father. He and his wife had just gotten home from a late commitment and had heard that Matt’s parents were looking for him. “I take it there are no updates,” he said.

“I’m afraid not,” she admitted, and filled Hallem Segal in on Cord’s efforts so far. Hallem tried to be reassuring and offered his help. He said she seemed to be holding up well.

If he only knew! She was holding her fears at bay with an iron grip. After hanging up the phone, she glanced over at the clock. How did it get to be 11:00 p.m.? Leaving Cord with his meal, she stepped into Matt’s bedroom. For too long she couldn’t make herself turn on the light. Standing in the dark, she could imagine that her son was curled up in his bed, fist tucked under his chin.

But he wasn’t here, just his essence, his energy and scent; his everything. Feeling overwhelmed, she snapped on the light and forced herself to concentrate on what had brought her in here. Matt’s wool-lined but nearly too small wind breaker wasn’t in its usual place on a hook behind the door. At least he had some kind of covering. Not allowing herself time to take in any more of her son’s cluttered, comfortable room, she walked back into the living room and told Cord what she’d discovered. He nodded.

Before she could think of what, if anything, to do next, Cord finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on the napkin she’d given him. “I appreciate it. I didn’t know I was hungry. That happens when I’m on a search.”

He hadn’t touched the other sandwich or the salad she’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “You lose your appetite?”

“I just don’t think about things like food.” He nodded toward where he’d left the Jeep. “I have my things out there. Do you mind if I grab a little sleep here? There isn’t anything I can do until morning.”

She was surprised he felt he had to ask. Certainly he understood they were in this together until Matt was safely back where he belonged. By way of answer, she walked into her bedroom for a spare blanket. She’d started to hand it to him when she realized what she was doing. Because her living room wasn’t that large, she’d bought a rather small couch. There was no way he could get any rest on it. The youth bed in Matt’s room wasn’t any better.

She held out her hand, indicating she’d help him to his feet. “Take my bed. You’ll need it.”

He stared at her hand for so long that she thought he was going to ignore her impulsive offer. Then, with a sigh that came from deep inside him, he engulfed her fingers with his own. She braced herself against his weight-and more. “Shannon? Thanks.”

“For what?” He stood maybe five inches away, smelling of the forest, of night, of life, of something deep and undeniable and compelling. She’d never been able to look at him without thinking of his substance. If she put her arms around him, as she had a thousand years ago, she’d find nothing except muscle. When he released her hand, she pressed her palm against her leg, wiping away his impression-trying to, anyway.

Cord yawned. “For being…” He indicated the blanket. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. That’s our son out there.”

He gave her a look that made her wonder if he was searching through himself for something-maybe an emotion, maybe certain words, maybe a way of reaching across the chasm between them. She wanted to reach for him and yet the years had turned them into strangers. She might not want to spend the night alone, but she didn’t have the strength or courage to try to hack away at what had gone wrong between them.

Concentrating on every muscle movement, she took a backward step. “I hope, when this is over, we’ll be able to talk.”

“Talk?”

“About-” Why it fell apart for us. She didn’t try to finish. He was right. Except for Matt, they had nothing in common. “About what the two of you will be doing this summer.”

The tarp he’d stretched between four close-growing trees flapped wildly in the wind, the sound waking Matt Navarro from a light sleep. He heard the plop-plop of fat raindrops as they hit the heavy fabric, but so far none of them had reached him. Realizing that, he smiled. Then, although he hated moving, he forced himself to sit up. The night was awfully dark, pitch black in fact. Other people, sissies and cowards, would be inside a tent with a lantern burning. Someone like Kevin sure wouldn’t be here alone; most grown-ups wouldn’t, either. But he wasn’t most