“I want to visit with Karinne, too,” Cory reminded his brother. “Try not to hog her too much.”
“Can’t promise anything,” Max said with a grin. “Besides, I expect you and Anita to be holed up in your tents getting reacquainted. Like Karinne and I will.”
“That should be them,” Cory said.
“Where?” Max asked, excited about seeing his lover and fiancée for the first time in months.
Cory jerked his chin toward the arrivals area. Two women climbed out of a parked vehicle, but Max only had eyes for Karinne. He’d recognize her anywhere, and his pulse quickened at the sight. She traveled light—no camera slung over her shoulder—and was clad in a worn pair of denims and her gray sweatshirt. The blond hair he remembered from childhood had long ago deepened to a darker blond, although her green eyes remained the same. Bare toes peeped out from casual summer sandals, and the sweatshirt didn’t hide the curves beneath. But his eyes lingered on her face.
He didn’t call out her name. He enjoyed anticipating her beautiful smile of recognition. When she finally caught his gaze, that smile always rewarded him.
“Max!” Karinne shouted. The four gathered together. Max hugged Karinne, loving the feel of her against his body. Then Karinne hugged Cory.
“Isn’t this great?” Karinne said. “The four of us together again.”
Cory kissed Anita on the mouth, then both cheeks. Glossy black hair around a bronze face with dark eyes and high cheekbones reminded Max of Spanish nobility in the early days of Mexico. Anita was exquisitely beautiful. Max appreciated beauty and was the first to acknowledge it—but his sister-in-law had never tickled his hormones like Karinne.
“Karinne, why don’t you ride with me in the Jeep? Cory, you and Anita can follow, okay?”
Max hugged Karinne’s shoulders with one arm as the other pair split off. They sauntered toward his vehicle, and got in.
“How was your drive up?” Max asked, his hand resting on her thigh, her fingers entwined with his.
“Too long and too wet. I’m glad I’m here.” She squeezed his fingers.
“So am I.” Max stopped at the intersection light. He took the opportunity to kiss her before the light turned green.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, watching the traffic as he gradually accelerated. “How’s your father?”
“Fine.”
“And you?”
“Okay.”
“Sounds like something’s not okay.” He always knew when Karinne was troubled. He had when they were children, and still did. “What’s up?”
“I thought it was strange that Cory invited Anita rafting,” Karinne replied. “I thought this trip was supposed to be just for us.”
Max shrugged. “He wanted to save on the food stuff. We can only freeze so much of it. But the main reason is that he misses her.”
“Well, she has plenty of time to visit now,” Karinne said. “Anita just lost her job.”
“Yeah, Cory told me.” Max stopped at a four-way stop sign. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Anita wants to get a job up here. Wish I could.” Karinne sighed.
“I just thought you’d be tired of sports by now.”
“Hey, I was the girl’s softball champ, remember? I love sports.” Karinne adjusted her sunglasses.
“Don’t you get tired of traveling?”
“Sometimes.”
“That won’t change after we’re married, either… Not with me living here and you working in Phoenix. You could always switch to landscapes—plenty of scenery.”
“Dad’s older and he isn’t well. He can’t really move. And when it comes to postcard and calendar shots, they don’t pay enough. Still, I’d love to be able to earn a living with material like this.” Karinne gestured at her open window. The wooded area of northern Arizona and the Coconino Forest shone a brilliant green from the night’s rain. It was the “earn a living” part that posed a problem.
“Can’t blame you there.” Max pointed to the left.
A doe and her fawn browsed the tender young leaves on a shrub, unconcerned with habitual park traffic. Karinne followed the pair with her eyes until the Jeep’s path around a winding curve put the deer out of sight.
“It sure beats a sweaty athlete with a bat or ball in his hands,” Max said.
“Well, maybe if you’re the model,” Karinne hedged. Cute shots of fawns in the forest were a dime a dozen. Her action shots with professional athletes were unique. “One of these days you’ll pose for me, Max.”
“In a suit at our wedding,” he told her.
“What about during our honeymoon?”
“Just scenery stuff. No jock shots,” he insisted. Her wicked smile at his unintentional pun prompted Max to add, “You know what I mean.”
“I have other plans for our honeymoon,” she promised.
“Have you talked to your dad about those assisted living homes?”
Karinne bit her lip. “I—uh—haven’t got to that yet.”
“Checking out the homes or telling Jeff it’s what his doctor recommends?”
“Neither,” she said with a sigh.
“I’m surprised you even agreed to come up for the week, you’re so busy protecting your father.”
“Please, Max, let’s not argue. I just got here.”
“We have some things to discuss this week, Karinne. Either we settle them, or…”
“Or what?” Karinne asked. “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”
“At least I’m willing to give something new a try for the sake of our relationship. Which is more than you’ll do. You’re going to argue, aren’t you?”
Karinne sighed again and turned her head away. He could rarely say no to her. Maybe that was his problem. Max relented.
“You and Anita have breakfast? Did you bring boots? Hats?”
Karinne nodded. “We ate. And we have everything ready for the hike down.”
“How about a mule ride?”
“But…I thought they were booked.”
“The park service had two cancellations. They said we could have the slots if we’d piggyback their mule-pack gear down with our regular chopper load supplies,” Max said, referring to the chopper delivery service the concessions often used. “One couple can ride, the other can fly. Your choice.”
Karinne nodded. “Anita would love the flight. I’d rather savor the quiet. And you.”
“We might lose the sun again,” Max warned, smiling at her response.
“That’s not a very romantic answer,” Karinne replied.
“I’m saving the romance for after tonight, since we’ll be in a dorm. Sorry, but all we’re allowed is a good-night kiss.”
“I can drag that out for quite a while,” she said merrily.
“Ms. Cavanaugh, you’re a woman after my own heart.”
Chapter Four
Bright Angel Trailhead,
South Rim, Grand Canyon
The sun finally broke through the clouds as the four regrouped in the parking area outside the small airport that served the Grand Canyon.
“Are you positive you don’t want to take the helicopter?” Anita tried to hide her eagerness.
“I’ve been. You go,” Karinne replied. “This will be your first time, won’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes. Thanks, I can’t wait.” Anita grinned.
“Guess Anita and I will meet you down below,” Cory said.
“You want my help loading the supplies?” Max asked.
“I can handle it. You two get your mules,” Cory said.
“Enjoy your flight,” Karinne told them.
“We’ll see you this evening,” Max added.
Karinne tilted back her head, shading her eyes as the prop wash of the helicopter blew over their heads. Anita and Cory’s journey would be far faster than hers, but she didn’t mind. She and Max stood apart from the crowd of tourists waiting for the trip down.
“You nonriders don’t need to worry,” the
park’s head mule wrangler explained to the group standing outside the corral. “These mules could make the trip blindfolded. Just sit back for the ride and let them do their job. The drop-off side of the trail might seem close, but don’t let that scare you. We’ve never lost a mule or rider yet. Listen up as I call out your name and assign you a mount.”
Karinne listened, one hand holding the upper pipe bar of the corral, the other still shading her eyes as she stared across the majesty of the Grand Canyon. Nowhere else did reds, pinks, oranges, browns and royal purples blend into such a rich tapestry of bands. Within the canyon, towering spires of layered colors descended one mile down into the Colorado River. Even though she’d seen it before, memory couldn’t do justice to the reality of its grandeur. The huge size of the canyon, two hundred and seventeen miles long and from four to eighteen miles wide, provided a huge canvas for nature’s most famous colors. Most canyons were dark holes, with scattered green vegetation to break up the browns. Not this one—it was a brilliant rainbow that glistened from top to bottom and side to side.
Karinne listened as the park ranger went into more safety details; the mules took the same trail day after day, year after year, making them safe for nonriders and children.
“Does Cory still ride?” Karinne whispered. She and Cory had learned together one summer.
Max shook his head. “No. The day he got his driver’s license was the day he quit using a saddle.”
“That’s too bad,” Karinne said. “He was always good with animals.”
As an only child, Karinne had riding lessons, ballet lessons, singing lessons and had participated in scouting. Karinne’s lack of pitch made music lessons difficult, and she’d quit scouting when her best friend, Cory, couldn’t come camping with “the girls.” And although a graceful child, she’d found dance boring. However, the riding lessons for her and Cory had been a huge success, even though her present lifestyle—and extensive traveling—prevented her from indulging in a pastime she still enjoyed.
The head wrangler continued his talk as Max asked, “You’ve never ridden mules, have you?”
“No, but I guess the principle’s the same, isn’t it?”
“The gait’s a bit different. And since they’re sterile, they’re more docile.”
Karinne knew mules were the product of a male donkey and a female horse. Owners claimed mules were more intelligent than either donkeys or horses. Even the ancient Romans and Greeks had bred and valued them for transport, while Old Mexico preferred mules to horses for cavalry soldiers.
“Mules can see all four feet. Horses can’t. That’s why the early miners used them,” Max explained.
“I just thought the mules would be…larger. These seem…small.”
“Not that small,” Max contradicted, “but the park mules are deliberately bred from the smaller quarter-horse mares. Anything larger wouldn’t be able to handle the narrowness of the trail,” he said.
Just then, the second park ranger, a woman, asked, “Anyone here afraid of heights?”
Karinne and Max ignored the wranglers’ sharp appraisal of the crowd. She’d never been afraid of heights or horses. She doubted she’d be afraid on a mule.
“If you are, now’s the time to admit it. There’s no shame in being honest, people, and no place for rider panic attacks. There’s only one stopping point on the way down—the Tonto formation,” the male ranger said.
There was some murmuring in the crowd, but no one spoke up.
“We’ll be on the trail nonstop around four hours before lunch,” he went on, “and we’ll reach Phantom Ranch a couple hours later.” The ranger tipped back his hat and studied the cloudy sky for a moment. “You need to remember two things.”
“Drink lots of water,” Max mouthed to Karinne.
“One, keep hydrated. It may seem cool right now, but the deeper we descend, the higher the temperatures. There’s a twenty-degree difference between the rim and the bottom, even in winter. Use your hats, sunglasses, sunblock, and drink often. This is July, our hottest month. In clear weather it can be more than one hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit on the canyon floor.”
The other mule wrangler, an attractive woman with long braided hair, spoke next. “That creates another problem. Our mules don’t—can’t—stop. There are no bathroom facilities for a long time. In ten minutes we mount up. Last chance for you all to make a pit stop. Remember your mule assignment.”
“It’s single file for humans and mules,” the other ranger said. “Mules have the right of way over hikers.”
“The trail’s that narrow?” Karinne exclaimed.
“Yep.”
“Good thing they can see all four feet.”
More than a few in the group rushed off to the restrooms as Karinne turned to Max.
“Phantom Ranch—that’s the stables, right?”
“And the overnight lodgings for riders. We’ll meet Cory and Anita there, get our supplies and head downriver tomorrow.”
Karinne nodded. She shrugged out of her pack and left it with Max. “Watch this for me? Be back in a minute.”
Except it took a lot longer. Karinne ruefully wondered if she should’ve taken the helicopter, after all, when she saw the line for the ladies’ room. The men’s room line was no shorter.
Oh, well. Better safe than squirming in the saddle.
When they’d all returned to their mules, the wrangler had everyone mount. She explained that she’d take the point position, and the park ranger would follow in the rear. “Let the mules form their own line after I lead out,” she said. “They have their own particular order.”
A few minutes of turmoil went by as determined mules took their usual spots. Karinne and Max’s mules preferred the end of the trail, with Max’s mount positioned directly in front of Karinne’s. She adjusted her baseball cap and gave Max a thumbs-up when he turned in his seat to check on her. Then silence set in as the mules took awestruck riders down into the vast colors of the Grand Canyon.
For the first hour Karinne drank in the sights, grateful for the respite from screaming, yelling, drunken crowds that were her work setting day after day. She’d never heard such quiet on the job. And sounds, when she registered them, were soothing, natural. The clop of shod hoofs on packed ground was broken by the occasional screech of a hunting red-tailed hawk—a cry that carried and echoed through the pure air. No trucks or cars or buildings marred the openness—nothing except rock spires and wildlife. Best of all, from Karinne’s point of view, this place had Max.
And he’d once offered to give it up for her. How could she allow him to do that? If only she had the courage to quit her own job, but since she couldn’t leave her father, it made no sense to leave Phoenix or gainful employment.
After Max graduated from college, he’d discussed his future plans with her. They were a real couple by then, though Karinne was still in school, and Max had reluctantly offered to give up his hopes of a canyon raft concession and continue to do geological work with the city of Phoenix. He’d been hired on, but wasn’t happy.
Karinne refused his offer. “No, Max. I’ll join you up north when I graduate. I’m sure I can find work in Flagstaff.”
After her graduation, they’d been reunited in a Grand Canyon topside hotel. For one happy week the two shared their love, planned their lives together, and Max proposed.
“I wanted to wait until you graduated before making it official,” he said, slipping a diamond ring on her finger.
“We’ll set a date as soon as I find a job,” she promised.
But that promise was derailed when, with Jeff’s help, a headhunter tracked her down at the hotel to offer her a media photographer’s dream job. She could have refused—would have if Max had objected—but he was silent. So, with hesitation, she accepted.
“I’ve just finished with classes, and this is a chance of a lifetime,” she explained, feeling a little guilty. “I’d like to get some experience for my résumé. Then I’ll move up here and we’ll get marr
ied. It’ll only be for a short time.”
“As long as it’s short,” Max replied. In her excitement, Karinne missed hearing the strangeness in his tone.
“It will be. Oh, Dad will be so proud!”
“And so will I,” Max said, never reproaching her. Still, the “short time” had turned into months, then years. Her career was so challenging, and then Jeff’s heart problems had worsened. There was no sense quitting if she had to stay in Phoenix with her father. Plus she knew Max loved her. He would always be there, and after all, they were still young.
There was another reason Karinne stalled, a secret reason. If Karinne were honest with herself, she was hoping for Margot to reappear. After all, there had never been a body. If she and Jeff moved, how could Margot trace them?
It was wishful thinking, she knew. Foolish, wishful thinking. But all the same, Karinne stayed at home and Max paid the price. He was getting tired of waiting for the family they’d once planned. Karinne would have to harden her heart and do what her father’s doctors recommended. That wouldn’t be easy. Because selling the family home meant giving up her last hope of finding her mother.
Still… Karinne sighed deeply, a sigh tinged with pleasure that carried clearly in the pristine air. For now, she could shove aside the tedium of constant noise, and even the mystery of a pink sweatshirt and a note signed “Mom.”
Max swiveled around in his saddle immediately.
“You okay?” he asked.
Karinne smiled. “Just enjoying the trip.”
The Reluctant Bride Page 3