The Reluctant Bride

“With just the two of us, we can’t really take extended breaks. But if we can afford more help, Cory and I could both take more time off. If we can swing it financially, I intend to make it happen,” Max said.

Further discussion was curtailed as the park ranger blew his whistle, the prearranged signal for everyone to finish eating and remount.

As the mule train started down the canyon a few minutes later, Karinne found herself smiling. She hated being apart from Max so much.

And she hated being in the dark about the mysterious pink top. Max hadn’t sent it. She’d known it all along but wanted to ask, just in case. And she knew he would never have played a trick like that on her. Besides, Max was alert to all her preferences, and pink wasn’t a color she wore much. Like Max, she doubted Cory had bought the top, but she’d ask him tonight at dinner. She didn’t want to address any other possibilities until then. For now, she was on vacation and would continue to enjoy it. It didn’t matter that a little rain was falling.

THE MULES CONTINUED down to the bottom of the canyon, crossed the suspension bridge across the Colorado and headed for their corral at the Bright Angel Campground. Sunlight faded quickly in the bottoms, although the mile-deep rock sides usually held the day’s heat long after the sunlight left. The floor of the Grand Canyon remained a desert environment, even with the monsoon rains far above.

Max turned in his saddle every so often to check on Karinne. She’d seemed a little stressed, but she had an open, welcoming manner about her, so much so that he’d revealed future business plans that he hadn’t even discussed with his brother yet. Nor did he feel the need to say, “Please don’t tell Cory I want to make him a partner.” He knew Karinne possessed sense and tact. She hadn’t succeeded in a high-paying, competitive job solely on her father’s coattails.

Her knowledge of the area and obvious delight with it impressed him more than he’d let on. As a canyon regular, he was used to the usual moans and groans of tourists. “It’s too hot, too cold, too wet” were among the complaints canyon workers had to hear. But like other weekends she’d spent here, Karinne hadn’t complained about the men’s and women’s dorms, where sexes were separated, or the lack of modern restrooms, the cloudy weather, the hard saddles, the no-frills lunch or the normal bodily functions of mules on a trail. Other tourists wrinkled their noses and groaned, finding “outdoor reality” a bit overwhelming. Instead, Karinne accepted the behavior of the mules much as she accepted the behavior of people—with a healthy tolerance that spoke of maturity.

She hadn’t had any choice but to grow up after her mother’s death. Mr. C had spent more time at home and, when school was out, brought her along on the job and taught her what he knew. A wildlife-photographer father who traveled frequently must have provided a strange upbringing for an only child. With just her widowed father and elderly grandmother, her experience of family was pretty limited.

Max thought uneasily about the last day he’d seen Margot Cavanaugh—and told her he didn’t know where her daughter was.

Karinne wasn’t the morbid type; she’d accepted her mother’s disappearance as the years passed. Max resisted the urge to turn around and check on her once more. A protective, totally male attitude washed over him, and Max gave in to the impulse and glanced at Karinne. Her head tipped back, she took in the brilliant colors directly above her, most of the canyon walls now looming over them. A satisfied smile curved her lips—and his at the sight. He almost felt as if he was on vacation himself. Max looked forward to her first expedition down into the Grand Canyon with more than his usual enthusiasm. They should’ve made this trip a lot sooner.

The mule train crossed the bridge over the Colorado, the river’s surface catching and reflecting the riot of color rising before them. Upriver, the Glen Canyon Dam had slowed much of the river’s speed; during heavy rainfall when the dam spill gates were opened, the Colorado was never as untamed as in Powell’s days. Max didn’t ride the river for cheap white-water thrills. The beauty of the canyon, the wildlife, the old pueblos and cliff dwellings, thousands of archeological sites and the simple pleasure of silently floating down the calmer side tributaries of the river made a far deeper impression than white water could ever provide.

As the mules finished crossing the bridge and headed toward the waiting corrals, Max took one last glance at Karinne to remind himself how lucky he was….

And how glad that there were no phones, no cell service. He didn’t have to worry about crank calls here.

MAX AND KARINNE MET up with Cory and Anita in the dining area at Phantom Ranch. Thanks to the brothers’ familiarity with the place, the four of them easily secured seats and dinner trays from the buffet.

“How was your chopper ride, Anita?” Karinne immediately asked.

“I loved it! I took some great photos. Nothing like yours, of course.” She grinned, patting the pocket where she kept her camera. “But enough to wow my friends at work when I go back to visit.”

Karinne gave Anita a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit.”

“Make ’em all jealous,” Cory said between mouthfuls of roasted chicken.

“I love it here,” Anita said.

“You both could stay longer,” Cory offered, surprising them all. “We have the provisions.”

“I can stay as long as I want. I’m ready to look for work here,” Anita said happily as she kissed Cory on the cheek. “I’m free as a bird, except for Karinne and Max’s wedding. Hard to believe it’s only a few months away.”

“I know,” Karinne said, seated next to Max. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a second. “I’m the bride, remember?”

Anita scanned the crowd. “Good thing we got a table.”

“I’ve seen worse.” Max buttered his corn on the cob. “Summer holidays are always horrendous.”

“Especially the Fourth of July weekend,” Cory agreed. “Now that’s a mob.”

“No,” Karinne said. “For terrible crowds, try Super Bowl Sunday. I remember one game when I couldn’t hear out of my headphones, and I had them on full blast. I’ve had it with noise and chaos. That’s why I wanted a small, quiet wedding. As long as everyone we’ve invited shows up, we’ll be happy.”

“I’ll be there,” Anita said.

Soon afterward, their plates cleared, Anita rose to go to her room.

“I’ll walk you there,” Max volunteered.

Cory and Karinne stayed behind to finish their coffee.

“Want dessert?” Cory asked.

“No, thanks. I’m full.”

“Same here. Wanna go?”

“Just a second. I’ve got a quick question,” she said. “Did you send me a Grand Canyon sweatshirt last week?”

“A sweatshirt?”

“In the mail—a hooded pink one.”

“Not me.”

“I wish I knew who did,” Karinne muttered. “It’s been bugging me.”

“Was there a note?” Cory asked.

“Y-yes.”

“And?”

Karinne hesitated, then decided to tell him. She and Cory were close, and Max had unexpectedly left with Anita.

“It was signed ‘Mom.’”

“Dammit!” Cory swore. “That’s not funny, Karinne.”

“No, it isn’t. It all started when I took this photo of someone who looked like my mother.” She went on to explain, Cory’s eyes serious as he listened to her story.

“And you went to the police when the sweatshirt came in the mail?”

“I did after I took the picture.” Karinne shrugged. “Max doesn’t know.”

“You’d better tell him,” Cory said.

“I plan on it. But he’s already upset enough. He’s worried that we won’t be able to spend any more time together when we’re married than we do now.”

“I can believe it,” Cory said. “What do you expect? It takes both me and Max to run the expeditions. I’m in the same boat with Anita when she’s working.”