Today the memories were stronger than they’d ever been.


They were giving the horses a breather and Cord was giving Shannon a brief sketch of what country he’d covered last night when his walkie-talkie squawked to life. Afraid it might be the sheriff with news he didn’t want to share with her if at all possible, he thought about moving away from her before answering, but that would only make her suspicious, only drive more of a wedge between them.

“Cord. It’s Hallem. Kevin’s father. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get in touch with you. Thank heavens, you left this receiver with Shannon’s parents.”

“That’s where you are?” he asked. “You have news?”

“Maybe. Hopefully, although I’m not sure it’s the kind of news you want to hear.”

He watched as Shannon moved closer. He read fear and determination in her eyes. “We’re both here,” he told Hallem. “What is it?”

“I’ve been grilling my son. Unfortunately for him, I know him better than he wishes I did. He was keeping something to himself and it was eating him alive, something that’s going to make things easier for you to round up that kid of yours.”

Shannon gripped his forearm with so much strength that it tore his attention from what Hallem was saying. Glancing at her, he now saw hope swimming in her eyes, hope and a giddy, unrestrained, too fragile joy.

Before he had to ask Hallem what he was talking about, Kevin’s father continued. “The boys had a fight, all right, and that’s probably why Kevin was so slow to fess up. He didn’t say so, but I know he wanted to see how much trouble Matt could get himself into because no one had a clue where he was. Unfortunately, you’ve got a lot of backtracking to do. Cord, Shannon, if we can believe Kevin, and I believe we can now, your son is determined to climb Copper Mountain.”

Chapter 6

Copper. Although he’d climbed the well-known skiing mecca numerous times, today Cord thought of it not as one of the most popular winter sports centers in the state, but as untracked miles punctuated by steep climbs, uncertain footing and, maybe, men with killing on their minds.

“Why would he do that?” Shannon asked Hallem while Cord tried to clamp down on emotions that threatened to get in the way of what he needed to do.

“My guess is, he wants to prove himself, Shannon,” Hallem replied, his voice fading a little. “Apparently our sons had a heated disagreement about Matt’s ability to walk in his dad’s footsteps.”

The mountain extended twelve thousand feet above sea level and although it literally swarmed with people in the winter, this was summer. Except for the very occasional hiker, it would remain essentially deserted until the snows began to fall. Deserted except for those determined to take advantage of the isolation to bring down one or more of the wild animals that called the area their home. The need to get back in touch with the sheriff to share what he’d just learned pounded at Cord, but he forced himself to wait. He would protect her from knowing everything. He couldn’t give her her son, but he could do this.

“Did Kevin say any more about how much food Matt had with him?” he made himself ask.

“It sounded like a lot, at least it would be if he wasn’t expending so much energy. I wish I could tell you more than that, but I really think I’ve gotten everything out of Kevin this time. He did say that Matt had his determined look on.”

Cord knew that look. He’d seen it first when, at ten months, Matt had decided he’d had enough of crawling and was ready to walk. Matt’s commitment to his goals, whether they were wise or not, made Cord’s heart swell with pride. He walked a fine line between reminding Matt of life’s dangers and pitfalls and letting his son know he trusted him. Most of the time his trust in his son’s judgment was well placed.

However, there was no question that Matt was out of his element this time. Not only had the boy seriously underestimated the amount of time it would take him to climb Copper, but he hadn’t taken the weather into account. Nor had it occurred to him that he might not have the mountain to himself.

After thanking Hallem for his information, Cord turned, looking for Shannon, then stopped. She stood maybe a hundred feet away, her back to him. She’d finally put on a jacket. It followed the lines of her body nearly as faithfully as her blouse did. Her long, dark hair lay in a submissive coil along her spine. Her jeans seemed to have shrunk. They hugged her legs and hips, challenging him, nearly distracting him from what he’d just learned and what was ahead of them.

I’m sorry. I never wanted our son to try to prove himself this way. If anything happens to him-

“Shannon, it’s going to take us at least three hours just to reach Copper.”

She spun around. “I know. Damn it, I know,” she said, her fingers curled into fists. “And after that, we have to climb that damnable mountain because our son is so desperate and determined to win your approval that he’s willing to risk his life to do it.”

Her eyes threw fire at him, fire and fear and an anger he knew neither of them could control. There’d been no anger in her after Summer’s death, only grief and hopelessness. And isolation. He hadn’t known what to do with those emotions any more than he knew how to handle what she was feeling right now. Still, he bad to try. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing.” She stalked closer, holding her body as if it was a weapon she might launch at him. “Nothing at all.”


Pawnee nickered and bumped his nose against Matt’s shoulder in an effort to get at the apple. Matt took two more bites and then gave the core to the gelding.

“You’re doing pretty good,” he said, not because Pawnee needed to be told that but because he needed to hear a human voice, even if it was only his own. “This rain sucks. And it’s steeper than I thought it’d be. You’re going to have to go back after a while. You’ll go straight home, won’t you? Mom’ll have a fit if anything happens to you.”

He frowned as he tried to come to a conclusion that had eluded him earlier. Although it was impossible to see to the top from where he stood, he’d been high up on the mountain in a ski lift any number of times and it hadn’t been all that big a deal. The way he figured it, he would reach the top by evening even with the stupid rain. He’d have to spend the night there, but getting back down in the morning was no big deal. He’d be home right when he told Kevin he would be-if Pawnee was waiting where he left him. But he wasn’t sure of his ability to tie Pawnee right. If the gelding got loose and dragged his rope, he might hurt himself and he didn’t want that.

He decided to try out the binoculars his dad had given him. After pulling them out of his backpack, he climbed onto a rock and stood as tall as he could while he looked all around. In most directions, he couldn’t see anything except for trees that looked as if they were no more than a few inches away, but off to his right the hill turned into a valley and, beyond that, another distant slope so high that no trees grew at the top. He tried to decide how far away the slope was, but with all the ups and downs, it was impossible to know for sure.

In fact, he wasn’t all that sure where he was.

Uncomfortable with the thought, he peered through the binoculars again. Although he’d come across a couple of deer trails, he hadn’t seen so much as a single squirrel or chipmunk, let alone anything more interesting. Most likely they’d found a dry place to stay until it stopped raining.

Mist rose in puffs and waves just about everywhere he looked, and he told himself it was because the ground was heating, proof that the darn storm was over. The sun couldn’t come out soon enough to suit him. Besides, wet rocks were slippery, and he had a lot of climbing to do before he reached the top of Copper.

Wait a minute. Something didn’t look quite right out there. Bringing the binoculars back to what had caught his attention, he concentrated. For longer than he wanted to admit, he couldn’t figure out what it was, but then he did. Some of the mist or fog didn’t look the same as the rest. It was-yeah-darker.

He wanted to move closer, but that would mean leaving Pawnee here on level ground. He had to satisfy himself with simply watching the dark, thin stream of air.

Only it wasn’t air. It was smoke.

“That’s really dumb,” he told Pawnee. “Don’t those people know they’re not supposed to have fires up here? I ought to tell…” He’d been about to say that he should tell the forest service, but he couldn’t because for all he knew, there weren’t any on the mountain today.

Wondering at the stupidity of people who didn’t know enough to check in before taking off into the wilderness, he took one last look at what was unquestionably smoke. They were probably city slickers, so dumb they’d wind up getting lost and then have to be rescued. Rescued by his dad maybe.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” he mused. “Dad and me working together to help those people. I bet he’d like that even better than hearing that I got to the top of Copper all by myself. Mom, too. She’d be proud as anything.”

A sudden weight in the region of his heart stopped him. Ever since dawn when he’d tried to keep going in the rain, he’d hardly been able to remember why he’d come here. Now, thinking about the look of pride he’d see on his dad’s face, he could hardly wait for the climb to be over so he could see his dad again.

And his mom.


Copper Mountain. A place, an actual place. Where they had to go to retrieve their son. Thank God, they at least knew that.

Cord’s shirt had worked its way out of his jeans. It now bung down in front and bunched over his right hip. His wet hair lay dark and thick over his forehead like a living curtain. He was walking and leading his horse just as Shannon was, his eyes trained to the ground, his back gracefully bowed.

Because he worked and tracked and stared at what he needed to see, his journey taking him farther and farther emotionally from her, Shannon was unable to look into his eyes and, maybe, gauge what went on inside him. She’d seen dogs on a scent who were no more single-minded and admired his ability to dismiss all discomfort, all feeling while trained on his goal. She wished she could do the same.

They’d ridden their horses hard getting to the base of Copper, but although she was anxious to begin the long climb, she understood that Cord first had to determine what route Matt had taken. Until he’d done that, she could only watch and wait and pray.

Because she carried the memory of Cord rocking his son, she was convinced that this search was more than just another job for him. Still, she would have given a great deal-anything-for him to tell her that his insides, like hers, felt as if they had been ripped open and then put back together a little, simply because they now knew where to begin looking for their son.

Although she now regretted lashing out at him, his reaction had told her things she didn’t want to know about the man she’d once loved. Everything had fallen apart for them at Summer’s death because for the first time in her life she hadn’t been able to express herself. She hadn’t been able to reach beyond her own grief, and he had had no idea what was happening inside her. Because he hadn’t tried to understand.

Or if he had, she hadn’t known.

Today it looked as if the intervening years hadn’t changed anything. He was still bottled up inside himself, either holding himself apart from his emotions or, even worse, lacking in that most essential of human qualities.

She could say something to him about what she was feeling and thinking, reveal her still-frightened heart. But if she did, fear might overwhelm her.

“What do you want to do with the horses once we get to where they can’t travel?” she asked around the lump caught firmly in her throat. “If you think we’re going to need them when we get back down, I’ll tether them so they can feed but not get away.”

“No.” He straightened and looked at her, saying the word slowly as if he’d given it considerable thought. “When and if we need horses, we’ll let your folks know. I don’t like the idea of these having to wait until who knows when.”

Who knows when. The words filled her with dismay. “All right,” she said.

“There’s something you need to be aware of. It’s slow going now. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about that. But when I find where Matt started, it’s going to get even slower.”

“It is?” She swallowed and wondered how much of her emotions she’d given away. “Why?”

“The rain. Also, he isn’t marking his way. He doesn’t want or expect to be followed. At least, he didn’t when he started.”