people. He was Cord Navarro’s son, brave, part Ute Indian.
Because, like his dad, he didn’t wear a watch, he had no idea what time it was. But then, it didn’t matter. His dad would know; Cord Navarro knew everything important.
Knew that there was nothing to be scared of just because it was dark and no one was anywhere around.
Nothing to be scared of-hadn’t his dad told him that the last time they went camping together?
And he believed what his dad told him.
After listening for a few minutes, Matt decided that the flapping tarp and rain and not Pawnee or owls or some other night creature must have wakened him. It took him a few more minutes to convince himself to crawl out of his cozy mummy bag. Working by feel, he managed to tighten his makeshift roof so it no longer made such a racket. Still using his hands instead of his flashlight, which he didn’t want to risk running down by using any more than absolutely necessary, he checked to make sure his bag hadn’t slipped off the pad his dad had bought so he’d be protected from cool, damp ground. Then he dove back into bed and stretched out his stockinged feet. Only after he’d tucked the bag up around his shoulders did he realize he hadn’t checked to make sure the heavy-duty flashlight was within reach. Darn it, if some animal snuck up on him-
Tired of the dumb argument going on inside him, he tried to listen for anything except the rain, but all he heard was Pawnee snorting and pawing the ground nearby. “I’m sorry,” he told the gelding. “How was I supposed to know it was going to rain? Besides, you’ve been rained on worse than this. And snowed on, too. Remember. Why don’t you just go back to sleep like I’m going to?”
Pawnee snorted again. Matt couldn’t tell whether the horse was agreeing or arguing with him. Maybe he was thinking about thunder and lightning, two things that really made. Pawnee show the whites of his eyes. He still felt bad that Pawnee had to be out in the rain while he remained dry, but he didn’t know what he could do about that. He’d been a little unsure of how to tie Pawnee so he wouldn’t wander away during the night, and was irritated with himself for not paying more attention to what his mom had said about how to keep horses from tangling themselves in ropes. When he got back, he’d ask her again and really listen this time.
A sharp sense of unease kept him from relaxing enough to fall back to sleep, but then he reminded himself that his mom didn’t know he wasn’t with Kevin. She wouldn’t be worrying. Hadn’t she told him she wasn’t going to call Kevin’s uncle at Wagon Creek to check up on him because it wasn’t as if he’d never gone there before? Kevin might be a king-size butthead, but at least he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. Despite being so mad at Kevin he’d nearly wrestled him to the ground, Matt had stuck around long enough to make sure Kevin understood he was not to tell his mom what his real plans were.
And if she somehow found out that he wasn’t at Wagon Creek, Kevin was to say nothing except that Matt was going to spend two nights camping out and for her not to worry.
Two nights were enough for what he was going to do; at least, he was pretty sure they were.
His shoulders had gotten cold while he was fixing the tarp, but they were already warm again. He’d have to remember to tell his dad that the mummy bag he’d given him was absolutely perfect.
Dad.
Although sleep tugged at him, he tried to imagine where his dad might be tonight. He wasn’t sure how far away Yellowstone was. A long way by car, but his dad had flown his plane. Soon-real soon-his dad would let him take the controls.
And track…track down people who’d gotten lost or hurt and were…
More asleep than awake, he barely heard the owl hooting overhead. His mouth twitched into a half smile as he imagined the round-eyed bird staring down at him. Owls were neat with their big, keen eyes and ears so good they could hear a mouse hundreds of feet away. Their ears-something his dad had told him about their ears.
He’d ask him… tomorrow. No. Not tomorrow, because Cord Navarro was saving some dumb woman, and he was going to climb a mountain all by himself so the next time he wouldn’t be left behind like some baby.
A…really tall…mountain.
The smell of rain blew in through the open window in Shannon’s bedroom. The scent, so much a part of Cord, cleared away the haze of sleep he’d only briefly managed to wrap around himself. Sleep was important. Although he’d learned to function without it for days on end, he knew how essential it was to replenish his body. If it had been any other time and the search ahead of him had involved anyone else-
His son was out there, a lean, growing boy with dark eyes that sparkled with excitement for life’s adventures. Thinking about Matt warmed him, warmed him and made him resent how quickly his son was leaving childhood behind.
That’s why Matt was out there on a rainy night, because he felt ready to take a giant step toward adulthood. Maybe he was ready. Maybe he wasn’t.
Yet that wasn’t what kept Cord awake tonight. In truth, if it wasn’t for Shannon, he would have been tempted to wait for Matt to finish his personal test and return, successful and boastful. He’d done what Matt was doing and more when he was even younger, proving to Gray Cloud that the lessons learned at his grandfather’s side had taken.
But Shannon’s eyes and voice and body language told him she couldn’t take Matt’s absence in stride. She was a mother without her child within reach and nothing mattered to her except being able to hold Matt in her arms again.
He understood why it was that way for her. She-they-had already lost one child. That pain…
Turning soundlessly in the bed that seemed to have taken on her contours, he repositioned her pillow and pulled in the scent of her shampoo. Her hair was still glorious, rich and healthy. What had she said once when he’d admired it? She couldn’t take credit for its condition and was grateful she’d been blessed with hair that didn’t require a lot of care because she had better things to do with her life than to spend it at a beauty parlor.
Everything about her was natural, honest.
Eyes open now, he stared at what he could see of her room.
While getting ready for bed, he’d paid as little attention as possible to this space that said the most about his ex-wife. Now, caught in that quiet time of night when there was nothing to do except think, his mind drifted back to a time when he’d known, or thought he’d known, the mother of his children.
She wasn’t the same seventeen-year-old girl he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Although he missed the quick, shy grin that had first attracted him to her, he had no regrets that she was no longer a teenager. He might regret what they’d lost since that magical first year, but the woman she’d become-
That woman moved with a deer’s grace, her lean, athletic body challenging him in a way he didn’t want. But want it or not, the fact was, he still physically desired her. His heart might have put love behind it, but his body, his damnable body hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to make love with her.
What had he called her smile, honest? Her body was the same. Yes, she’d been an uncertain virgin when raging hormones and curiosity and loneliness, at least on his part, had brought them together that first time. But that hadn’t lasted long. Learning together, they’d tasted sensual experiences and, in the tasting, the testing, discovered that they were capable of igniting something in both themselves and each other that he now believed might never be extinguished.
Seven years after he’d left her bed for the last time, the flame still hadn’t been snuffed out.
When his jaw started to ache, he realized he’d been clenching his teeth. He forced himself to relax. Once he’d accomplished that, he worked on the rest of his body. Using techniques Gray Cloud had taught him, he visualized every muscle, mentally easing tension out of one after another. He fought to keep his mind clear of any other thought, fought and only partly succeeded. Whenever he slackened his grip, his thoughts went back to her-the woman curled on the couch in the next room.
She could have taken Matt’s youth bed, a bed the boy was rapidly outgrowing, but for reasons she kept to herself but he could guess, she hadn’t entered their son’s room again. Was she sleeping? He doubted that she had been any more successful at blocking out the world than he had been.
