The Return of Cord Navarro

Only, it wasn’t the world that kept him awake.

Their missing son was responsible.

And that son’s mother.

A woman he’d once loved and made love to like a dying man clinging to life. A woman he’d lost somewhere in the tangle of the past and only wanted to forget.

Tonight wasn’t for forgetting.

Instead his body burned and ached and remembered.

Not a word.

When the stupid phrase skittered through Shannon’s mind for the umpteenth time, she stretched out her legs until her feet dangled over the arm of the couch, and she stared up at the darkened ceiling.

She’d managed to fall asleep, but that hadn’t lasted very long. Concern for Matt had been a large chunk of what had awakened her. But Matt Navarro wasn’t any ordinary ten-year-old boy. He was Cord Navarro’s son, an outdoor child who believed night was as fascinating and comfortable as day. Just because she couldn’t hold her son didn’t mean he wasn’t all right. She couldn’t sleep because Cord and she were under the same roof during night’s quiet for the first time in years.

Of course he was asleep, she told herself a little testily. The experienced tracker knew how to shut off his mind and get the rest he needed. He’d probably trained his mind as thoroughly as he trained his muscular legs and keen eyes and sharp hearing.

Muscular legs.

No! That was the problem; she couldn’t stop thinking about his thighs and calves and chest and arms-and the rest of him. Why was be so strong? So physical? So… so primitively masculine?

A long and not-too-steady sigh escaped her lips. She gave up trying not to think about Cord. He’d always slept on his side; at least he had when he’d been married to her. He seldom moved in his sleep, one of those fascinating/maddening things about him she’d never forgotten. When he wanted her in the middle of the night, he would place his hand lightly over her rib cage and run his forefinger up and down her side until she either responded or turned away from him. Most of the time she’d responded.

Past tense. Damn it, past tense.

She hadn’t known anything that first time, not a single solitary thing about what went on between men and women. Oh, yes, like most of her girlfriends, she’d spun fantasies about falling in love, making love. Doing “it.” But those fantasies had had nothing to do with reality.

Now she knew the reality, and her body refused to forget.

It had been his hands. In some instinctive way, Cord had known how to take her smoothly and cleanly from virginity to womanhood. He’d come to her as inexperienced as she’d been. Because he’d been a loner, she couldn’t imagine that he’d shared much locker room talk about what girls wanted and expected. She also couldn’t imagine him discussing sex with his grandfather, either. Somehow Cord’s hands had sensed what she’d needed. They’d played her, explored, taught, learned.

And she’d given herself to him with every fiber of her being.

A million years ago.

Before his silence had come between them.

Not a word. Don’t forget that. He walked away from you tonight without saying a word.

Shannon’s eyes felt as if she’d tried to wash them with sandpaper. Stepping out of the shower, she quickly toweled off and slapped a little cream on her face. After throwing on some clothes, she brushed her teeth, trying not to look at Matt’s smaller toothbrush next to hers. The constant sound of rain made her want to climb on the roof and yell at the heavens not to pour down on her son.

Cord, who’d already used the bathroom, was outside doing whatever it was he needed to. It still wasn’t light enough to see without turning on the bathroom light; at least, normal mortals like herself needed help to see. As for Cord, he’d showered in the dark and then dressed and gone outside without saying a word to her about his plans. He didn’t seem to be hurrying, yet getting ready hadn’t taken him any time at all.

Had he slept? she asked herself yet again. During those horrible hours while she lay curled up on the couch praying for the night to be over, she’d listened for the sound of Cord’s breathing. She’d heard nothing, but then, he’d slept silently when they were married. Maybe that hadn’t changed.

Sleep. Had he been capable of shutting off his thoughts so he could go about the vital task of preparing his body for today’s work? If he had, then he indeed lived up to his publicity as the intrepid tracker. But to truly rest, with his son somewhere out there-

Reminding herself that there was something essential she and Cord had to discuss, she laced her boots and stepped outside. It wasn’t cold. But neither was it as warm as she wanted it to be. As long as she stood on the porch, she could almost convince herself that the rain wasn’t that much of a factor, but the moment she stepped out into it, she was lost.

Why, Matt? What were you thinking? Does proving yourself to your father really mean this much?

Cord, wearing a soaked T-shirt that hugged his wonderfully hard and competent body, turned from what he’d been doing at the Jeep. He came toward her with his backpack slung over his shoulder, his eyes steady on her. He looked ready to take on the world one quiet step at a time. Despite the rain and wind, he didn’t so much as blink. The day was gray, dark, making a lie of summer. Cord was part of that world.

“Go back inside,” he said as he came close. “There’s no reason for you to get wet.”

“Isn’t there?” she retorted. She hadn’t known she was angry until the words burst from her, but maybe the truth was that anger had nothing to do with what was happening to her. Unable to meet his intense gaze, she held her hands out palms-up so she could catch some of the raindrops. “He’s out there, somewhere. Standing in this.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

He balanced the backpack effortlessly on his left shoulder. His free hand hung by his side and yet she felt herself being drawn to it. “Don’t do this to yourself, Shannon,” he said. “Worrying about him won’t change anything.”

“What do you want me to do? Pretend he’s at a sleep-over with a friend? He isn’t.” She glared at him, felt his dark eyes begin to absorb her, forced herself to study what she could see of the horizon. “He might be lost. No matter how good he thinks he is, he might be lost.”

“Don’t,” Cord repeated. Without asking, he grasped her wrist and led her back up the steps. Once they were on the porch, he set down his burden and pulled her around until she was forced to look up at him. “The night was hard for you. I’m sorry it had to be like that with nothing to think about except Matt.”

She’d thought about a lot more than their son, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“The inactivity got to you, but it’s morning now. I’ll find him. He’ll be all right. I want you to believe that.”

I want to believe in you, Cord. To trust completely. But it isn’t that simple. Life never is. “Is that what you tell everyone?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. “That you’ll find whoever you’re looking for?”

“No. Not always.”

She should ask him to explain himself, but something in his tone warned her that this wasn’t ground she wanted to tread on this morning. Although she knew it wasn’t wise, she looked down at her trapped hands, her safe and secure hands. Cord Navarro, a man with a skill unrivaled by any other, had promised her that nothing bad would happen to her-their-son and she wanted to believe him.

“It’s the rain,” she admitted after too long a silence. “If it wasn’t raining-”

“It’ll make finding him harder.”

Don’t say that, she thought even as she nodded to let him know she understood. Looking up, she struggled to find something brave and optimistic to say. But his midnight eyes were on her, reaching into her.

Although it was the most dangerous thing she could do, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him. She