Max was waiting for Karinne

Leaning against his car, he eagerly watched the incoming traffic for her. He hadn’t seen Karinne enough recently. Between the time she spent working and Max’s own schedule, they weren’t in physical contact very often. Max missed her so much he ached inside.

Two women climbed out of a just-parked vehicle, but Max only had eyes for Karinne. His pulse quickened at the sight of her. She wore an old pair of denims and a sweatshirt. The childhood blond hair he remembered had long ago deepened to a darker shade, although her green eyes remained the same. Bare toes peeped out from casual summer sandals, and the sweatshirt didn’t hide the sweet curves beneath. But his eyes lingered, as always, 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 rewarded him.

Dear Reader,

Grand Canyon National Park is famous for its beauty and the river that carved it, the Colorado. The word “canyon,” however, is deceptive. Even “Grand” doesn’t adequately describe its abundance of life and land mass, its history and ancient culture.

As a child, I grew up walking the Colorado’s beds and tributaries high in the Rocky Mountains, searching for gold nuggets. That treasured ore is long gone, but the Colorado River now provides new treasure—irrigation and electricity for the Southwest. This means supporting mega-farms, huge crop fields and cities with increasing populations—but modernization has a price.

Sadly, the millennia-old flow into the Gulf of California has disappeared in the past seventy-five years. Long before reaching the sea, the empty riverbed turns to dust. The overconsumption of this now-clear river threatens almost a third of North America’s ecosystems, while water and power rights representing billions of dollars are fought in national international courts. The Colorado has replaced the Nile as the most heavily litigated river in the world.

I have taken certain liberties in my story. My description of flooding in the present-day Grand Canyon National Park is now impossible. I have resurrected the “Rogue” Colorado of fifty years ago, before modern technology “tamed” it.

The Hopi believe the Grand Canyon is a Sipapu—a sacred place where “The People” emerged to enter the beautiful Southwest. My hero and heroine share this deep respect for the outdoors—and each other. Welcome to the grandest canyon in the world!

And be sure to visit my website, www.paperbackgems.com.

Anne Marie Duquette

The Reluctant Bride

Anne Marie Duquette

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anne Marie enjoys the Southern California lifestyle with her husband, two grown children and two grandchildren. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s relaxing on the beach—or upping her adrenaline on Disneyland’s roller coasters. Her stories focus on the security and the adventure of romance because she feels every relationship should have both!

My most heartfelt gratitude to Paula E., editor, teacher and friend.

Thank you for everything!

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One

Her mother couldn’t be alive…could she?

In ordinary circumstances, Karinne Cavanaugh should be smiling as she packed for vacation. The Grand Canyon, one of the most spectacular parks in the world, awaited her photographer’s eye. For once she wouldn’t be photographing men in sports uniforms. She’d be lost in the blissful glory of the Southwest’s July landscape. As an added bonus, she’d get to see her fiancé, Max Hunter. Their wedding would be in the fall at the Grand Old Lodge—seventy-five years old—three times her age, and boasting many other weddings in the past. She was driving up to Flagstaff to actually see the place for herself.

Max, a rafting guide, had even promised a longer raft trip instead of their short weekend treks down the Colorado River at Karinne’s urging—a prehoneymoon vacation.

“Since we’re getting married, I should be more familiar with what you do for a living,” she’d coaxed him with a kiss. “It’ll be romantic.”

“I wish you’d said something sooner. I’m already booked, Karinne,” Max warned, although he didn’t resist her kisses. Rafting trips were booked years in advance, rain or shine. “But if I get a cancellation, I’ll call you.”

A cancellation had occurred during rainy weather, and Max had called, as promised. If Karinne could show up in two days, she’d be in luck. Max worked a single craft in the rafting concession with his younger brother, Cory. The brothers had outfitted a private expedition that had canceled, despite the deposit. Her own boss agreed to the short notice. She and Max could check out the wedding and honeymoon accommodations sooner rather than later. The trip down the river would be just the two of them, a few precious days together before their wedding in November. She should consider herself the luckiest woman in the world.

Karinne Cavanaugh, engaged, educated and employed, didn’t know what to think.

Her mother, long thought dead, a woman who’d disappeared during Karinne’s childhood, had seemingly come back to haunt her.

During one of Karinne’s home-game baseball photography sessions, she’d caught a familiar face in the background crowd. This in itself was rare. She clicked off some rapid shots. Seconds later, the woman was gone; whoever the “double” was didn’t return.

On her computer afterward, Karinne ignored her work photos, digitally enlarging the crowd pictures first. They showed a woman who could very well be an older Margot Cavanaugh—except that Margot hadn’t been seen in more than twenty years. She’d parked at the side of an Arizona river, left a suicide note in her car and disappeared.

There hadn’t been a body to bury; recovery efforts had been unproductive. That very afternoon a seasonal monsoon storm of epic proportions had struck with enough precipitation to cause whitecaps on the overflowing Arizona irrigation canals for two full days. Even rescue and recovery personnel couldn’t cover much ground. People died every year during the flash floods, on foot, in cars and the arroyo washes.

Jeff Cavanaugh’s mother, a widow, had moved in to take care of her grieving son and granddaughter. Karinne’s carefree days of childhood were over.

Karinne grew up next door to the Hunters. Max, the older boy, had been her lifeline. Karinne’s parents had hardly ever been home together and, when they were, fought bitterly over whose photographic career and next assignment was more important. Their marriage problems had often driven her to the Hunters’ home. But after her mother’s death, an eerie stillness had replaced the bitter fights at home. Karinne found herself at the Hunters’ more than ever.

Karinne’s father cut back on his work hours, and her grandmother stayed until Karinne’s senior year of high school before moving to Florida. Karinne inherited her mother’s cameras and flair for photography. She’d graduated, gone to college and now had a job she enjoyed. Plus, the boy next door, Max Hunter, loved her as much as she loved him. Nothing could burst Karinne’s joy….

Until that apparent double had showed up at the baseball game just a few weeks ago. Karinne hadn’t told her father, although she’d checked with the police and filed a report. The intake officer had taken the disk with the digital copies, nodded and merely said he’d “keep them on file.” A plainclothes detective in the same office had been kinder. She’d scanned the last photo the family had of Margot and plugged it into the computer simulation software to “age” the image. She’d even agreed there was a likeness.

“I’ll make sure this gets into our computers,” the detective said. “But your mother’s disappearance was ruled a suicide drowning. I wouldn’t hold out any hope, Ms. Cavanaugh.”

“They never found her body. Could you recommend a private detective?” Karinne had asked.

“We can’t, and even if we could, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Karinne racked her brain. “I understand the Red Cross is very good at finding missing people. Like those lost in earthquakes or hurricanes.”

“Yes, but we’re talking about recent victims, Ms. Cavanaugh. I know it’s hard for family to give up hope, but it’s been years. If it were me,” the detective had added softly, “I’d let it end right here.”

Karinne tried. Once home, she’d put the disk with the enlargements in her filing cabinet. She’d withdrawn the neatly folded aged photo printout from her purse and tossed it in the trash. But later she dug it out and carefully filed it away. The next day she’d gone to a private detective, who gave her the same advice as the police. He also refused to take the case or her money, and warned her about others who might not be as scrupulous.

Karinne prayed she was overreacting. She decided to let matters rest—until last week. Her father, somewhat obsessed with mortality in his older years, had asked how Karinne would feel if he ever sold the house. The question had shocked her and she’d stuttered, “But th-then…Mom couldn’t f-find us.”

Her father’s surprised reaction and “Karinne, what’s wrong?” prompted her to come clean with him.

“Dad, I’m just not sure what to think,” Karinne said. Reluctantly, feeling somewhat foolish, she showed her father the digital photos, the “aged” picture and the police report she’d filed. To her relief, her father looked and listened; he didn’t laugh. On the old couch, they sat side by side, his arm around her shoulders.

“There is some resemblance,” he agreed. “But your photos aren’t that clear, and your mother’s dead. I wish you’d come to me earlier.”

“I sound crazy, don’t I?”

“No, sweetheart. You sound perfectly normal. You’re an engaged woman who simply wishes her mother could be at her wedding.”

“You think that’s all it is?”

“Yes.” Jeff stroked his daughter’s blond hair. “I’ve been having the same thoughts myself. How Margot would’ve loved shopping for a dress with you. How she’d smile when we walked down the aisle. She loved you so much.” His own eyes grew moist, and he gestured at the printouts in her lap. “Don’t let these ruin your wedding, Karinne. You’ve already postponed it twice because of my health. You and Max have a great future. Your mother will be there in spirit to bless your union.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Karinne and her father hugged, and that had been the end of it—until yesterday, when a package had arrived, the day before she was to leave for the rafting trip. Inside was a hooded pink sweatshirt bearing the words Grand Canyon Village across the front. She assumed the package was from her fiancé.

“Max…” She smiled and looked for a note with his bold handwriting. She shook out the sweatshirt, and a typed note fluttered out, but it wasn’t from Max.

“I want to see you. If you feel the same, wear this on your trip. Love, Mom.”

ALTHOUGH NOT a superstitious woman, Karinne wondered if the goose bumps on her arms meant serious trouble ahead. If she hadn’t wanted to check out the wedding and reception location, she would’ve considered canceling her trip. But that seemed cowardly, and then she’d have to tell Max why. What should she do?

The sweatshirt still lay stuffed inside her dresser drawer. She hadn’t gone back to the police or told anyone about it. There wasn’t much to tell from an evidence point of view. The mailing address was on a label from the canyon’s gift store; it wasn’t hand-printed. There was no return address on the note. Someone was either playing a very sick joke or trying to ruin her peace of mind.

Karinne gave up on neatly arranging her underwear and shoved a handful of panties into the backpack she needed for her trip. The sooner she saw Max, the better she’d feel.

There was a knock at her bedroom door. Her roommate, Anita, Cory’s wife, peeked in when Karinne responded.

With Cory working in northern Arizona and Anita working in central Arizona, the apartment was a weekday home for Anita. She spent weekends at the Grand Canyon with her husband. They’d been married only a year, and Anita had chosen to keep her current job until they could save enough to buy their own home up north.

Karinne envied her friend. She usually spent weekends working sporting events and wasn’t happy with her limited time with Max. After all, they’d been engaged for two long years, yet rarely saw each other. Somehow their wedding kept getting pushed back…. She’d changed the date three times.

“You’re home early. You take a half day off?” Karinne immediately asked.

Anita eyed her backpack. “Packing for your minivacation?” The expression on Anita’s normally cheerful face was drawn.

“I leave tomorrow. What’s up?”

“I got fired.”

“Fired?” Karinne echoed.

“Yes. Can you believe it?”

Karinne shoved aside her backpack, leaving room on the bed for Anita to sit. “What happened? No one in their right mind would fire you.”

“They might as well have. Technically, I got laid off. So did a bunch of others. It could be for months…or for good.” She flopped onto the bed next to Karinne. “I can’t believe it! I mean, management gave us warning, but I’ve been there for five years. The things is, the company’s losing money.”

“Oh, no…”

“Oh, yeah.” Anita worked for a local commuter airline. She’d graduated from college with a degree in accounting and had landed a plum job in the finance department right away, quite an accomplishment for someone with no experience. She’d kept that job after marrying Cory Hunter. Unfortunately, many airlines had suffered serious financial difficulties in light of increased costs and the latest national recession. Several had declared bankruptcy; layoffs had been the norm rather than the exception at Anita’s corporate office.

“I’m so sorry,” Karinne said.

“Maybe you can find me something,” Anita said mournfully. “At least you’re safe. Talk about job security. No one ever downsizes in professional sports.”

Karinne’s job as sports photographer for a consortium was quite secure. Even during recessions, professional baseball and football never lost favor with the public. The Diamondbacks and the Cardinals were her specialty. She’d always been a devoted techie when it came to computers, and her skill as a digital photographer had quickly garnered attention.

The Cavanaugh name was well-known. Despite her youth and the tradition of male photographers in men’s locker rooms, at the team owners’ personal request, Karinne handled much of the workload. Everyone knew her qualifications and could vouch for her get-along-with-everyone character. She concentrated on capturing digital stills of professional athletes in motion, stills that could be sent instantly to media news sources on the internet and posted just as quickly.

“What am I gonna do?” Anita moaned. “I’m unemployed!”

“Something will come up,” Karinne assured her.

“When? It won’t be easy to get a job as good as my old one. I had great benefits, too.”

“Nita, I’m so sorry,” Karinne said again.

Anita stared at the open backpack. “I’m surprised you’re taking time off. Baseball season isn’t over.”

“I’m a bride on a mission. My boss knows it, and I’ve got plenty of vacation hours on the books. I can use it or lose it.” Karinne gestured to the backpack. “I’m definitely using it. Max had a cancellation on a rafting trip.”

“If you two weren’t such lovebirds, I’d ask if I could I come along, too. I’ve certainly got the time now,” Anita said, her voice rueful.

Karinne hesitated, not wanting to be rude or to hurt her friend’s feelings. Max and Karinne were rarely together, and she missed him terribly. Their last reunion had been months ago.

Cory and Karinne had attended school together from first grade on. Both of their families still owned the same homes on the same street. Anita and Karinne, on the other hand, met as computer-assigned college roommates. The computer had glitched; Anita had wanted a friend from high school as her roommate, while Karinne had requested a single room. Anita had originally planned to refuse the dorm room, but the two women hit it off instantly. As an added bonus, Anita had met Cory. The two married, despite the warnings of family and friends that a long-distance marriage was gambling with the future.

Karinne worried about that, too. Would her own marriage be at risk? Her parents had both traveled extensively, and it sure hadn’t helped.

The wedding was only a few months away. Max’s job rafting down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon made casual get-togethers geographically difficult, if not impossible, while her job as sports photographer meant she accompanied the teams on out-of-state games.

“If you don’t mind giving me a ride, we could split up when we get there. I could stay with Cory at the guys’ place,” Anita suggested. “Maybe I can do some wedding legwork for you.”

“Of course you’re welcome to ride up with me. And to come rafting, if you want. But you’ve never seemed interested in the water,” Karinne said slowly, her desire to be alone with Max warring with sympathy for her roommate.

“I’m interested in anything that would cheer me up. I can foot the bill,” Anita insisted.

“I’m not concerned. You know that.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” Anita added. “But Cory said if you don’t mind, four would be better than two for the raft trip.”

“When did you talk to him?” Karinne asked, confused.

“A few days ago. I was working at the time, so I said no. He just called me again today, though. They have extra provisions because of the cancellation, and he doesn’t want to waste the perishables.”

“Oh.” Karinne blinked.

“If you’d rather I didn’t come,” Anita backtracked, “I’ll stay topside with Cory and update my résumé. Review the want ads. Do some wedding preparations for you.”

Karinne hated seeing Anita’s disappointment. So far this vacation had been full of surprises, and it hadn’t even started yet. She thought of the pink sweatshirt still in her drawer, and the goose bumps ran down her neck again. If a ghost intended to show up, maybe having reinforcements around wasn’t such a bad idea. And if Cory had invited his wife rafting, it wasn’t Karinne’s place to tell them no.

“Forget the want ads. There’s plenty of time for that later.” Karinne gestured with her chin. “Get packing. We’ll start the drive north early tomorrow morning.”

Chapter Two

Topside,

Grand Canyon Village, Arizona

The rain continued its steady downfall. Arizona forecasters didn’t call it the monsoon season for nothing. Moisture-laden air from the Pacific’s California coast hit the Rocky Mountains and rose high to cross the peaks. The moisture moved toward the hotter air above the desert, where its coolness clashed with the heat, mushrooming in purple thunderheads that drenched the area in violent downpours with stick, chain and ball lightning.

Inside the personal quarters provided for park concessionaires topside, Max Hunter stared out the window, fascinated as always by the force of water. Harnessed correctly, it could water the desert and quench the thirst of millions of plants, animals and humans. Left to its elemental nature, water would erode the canyon below, just as it had in prehistoric times.

The Colorado—Spanish for red—was one of the nation’s three ancient, prehistoric rivers, along with Utah’s Green River and the Mississippi. The Colorado continued carving the massive canyons with its abrasive red silt, fed by the rain and snowfall of the Rocky Mountains.

“Tourists want sunshine. If this keeps up, they’ll have to open the spill gates upriver, then who knows what the white-water conditions will be this weekend. We’ll have to do more of the trip on foot,” Cory grumbled.

“If it wasn’t for the weather, we couldn’t have invited Karinne and Anita up,” Max reminded him. “Although I thought it would just be me and Karinne,” he said with a trace of annoyance. A long-distance courtship, preface to what would be a long-distance marriage, made Max cherish whatever time he could spend with his fiancée, especially time alone. Unfortunately, Cory suffered from the same problem. But at least Cory had made faster progress. He’d become engaged, gotten married and was saving for a house with his wife, even though Max and Karinne had been engaged first. Karinne had been dragging her feet, and Max was tired of it. He’d hoped that this long trek down the river would settle things once and for all. Yes, their wedding was planned for November, but it wouldn’t be the first time Karinne had put it off. If it wasn’t her father’s health, it was her job demands. The timing never seemed to be right for her.

Cory sensed Max’s irritation.

“I figured we might as well use up the perishable food, but I told you, I can hang with Anita topside if you want,” he said.

“No, that would be rude, and besides, you’re right. We’re already provisioned for a larger party.”

Max added a few more morose comments about foolish tourists who thought deserts were all cacti and sunshine. But his comments reflected his frustration at having a long-distance fiancée. While Cory tuned his guitar, Max remained at the window, which took in the canyon rim wooded area, log-style smaller cabins and lodge.

Although both brothers were deeply tanned and healthy from outdoor work, there the resemblance ended. Blond and blue-eyed like his father, a cruise-ship captain, Cory looked more like a California surfer. He wore his hair fairly long, and sported the attitude of what he was at heart—a musician who was happy anywhere, provided he had his woman and his guitar at his side.

“At least you two will share the same tent for a few days,” Cory said to Max. He shook his head. “Although how you two expect to have a marriage, let alone kids, while you’re living in opposite ends of the state is beyond me. Karinne doesn’t want to quit her job, and you can’t. There’s no way just one person can run the raft expeditions. Plus there’s Jeff’s bad heart to consider.”

“We’ll manage. You and Anita have.”

“Anita and I are in no hurry for children. You and Karinne are.”

“I used to think Karinne wanted children right away,” he said morosely. “She said she wanted her dad to see his grandchildren before he died. But talk isn’t action. At this rate I’ll be old and gray before we ever get to the altar. And Jeff will be long gone.”

“Would you still marry her if she changed her mind? Didn’t want a family?”

“I don’t know.”

Cory wisely said nothing, and let Max continue to stare out the window.

Even as a child, Max found inner peace in the unique ruggedness of northern Arizona, although there’d been a time when he’d hated the rawness of the land. That time had come after Margot Cavanaugh’s disappearance into the desert.

Margot had showed up at Max’s house on that last day, looking for Karinne. Margot’s manner had been decidedly off-key, and because of that Max had—uncharacteristically—lied. He remembered the incident clearly, even though he’d been only ten years old.

“No, I don’t know where Karinne is, Mrs. C,” he’d fibbed, although Karinne and Cory were in his bedroom playing video games. It was Cory’s favorite pastime, although six-year-old Karinne wasn’t as skilled.

“Are you sure?” Margot pressed. “She told me she was coming here.”

The hair on the back of the boy’s neck rose as Margot grabbed his arm.

“She left.” Max pulled his arm away from Margot, who quickly stepped back and hurried off the porch. Max carefully dead-bolted the door before rubbing at his arm. Something about Margot’s strange mood and aggressive behavior unnerved him and came back to haunt him when Margot’s suicide note was discovered.

Later, Max didn’t regret his decision. At least Margot’s death was a single tragedy, not a double one involving Karinne’s death, too. Max had never spoken of it to anyone except Cory. He thanked the gods of chance that he’d answered the door that fateful day, and Karinne had survived her mother’s disappearance.

“I don’t know how you expect to have kids when neither of you wants to quit your job,” Cory said, thumbing his guitar strings. “You won’t be able to raise them together. In fact, you won’t be able to raise them at all.”

Max refused to rise to the bait. “We’re not even married yet, Cory.”

“And you won’t stay married long if you don’t get serious about your situation. You can’t bring infants and baby bottles into white-water rafts, and Karinne can’t bring children to her sporting events. You’ve had the longest engagement on record, and you’re still hiding your heads in the sand. One of you has to quit, Max.”

“She’ll probably stay home with them once they’re born.”

“Have you guys even talked about this? Maybe she doesn’t want to choose children over her career. Your marriage will be off to a rocky start if you don’t get this settled.”

That remark drew Max away from the window. “Thanks a lot. We haven’t even had the wedding, and you’ve already got us divorced.”

“Not me,” said Cory. “You and Karinne. She’s still looking after her father, and you’re still waiting for Karinne’s mother to turn up and ruin everything.”

“They never found her body,” Max slowly said. “And Margot wanted a divorce. She and Jeff were always fighting. That suicide note could’ve been a fake. She could’ve taken the opportunity to run. I remember her well, Cory. She wasn’t interested in being a wife and mother. And there were whispers about her having a gambling problem.”

Cory sighed. “So let’s say Margot does come back. So what? You have nothing to fear.”

“Come on, we were both home with Karinne the day Margot disappeared. I lied and said I didn’t know where she was. If Margot ever returns, what am I going to tell Karinne?”

“Tell her the same thing you told Jeff and the police when they came looking for Margot. That Mom was next door at the neighbors, Dad was at work, you saw Margot, and you did what you thought was right at the time. I don’t know why you didn’t tell her this years ago.”

“Jeff asked me not to because he thought it would be too traumatic. But I may have to after all.”

“Why?” Cory asked.

Max paused, then admitted, “I’ve been getting anonymous phone calls. It’s happened three times. Once the caller actually said she was Margot Cavanaugh and asked me for money to come and see Karinne.”

“Hell!”

“I went to the police, but nothing. I haven’t received any more calls since the last one, so the police weren’t able to trace her.”

“No wonder you’re talking in your sleep.”

Max winced. “Not again.”

“Yes. You talk about that day Margot came to the door, Max. One of these days, Karinne’s gonna hear you.”

Icy chills shivered down Max’s back. “What do I say?”

“The same thing you always used to say. Don’t tell Karinne.”

Chapter Three

Interstate 17,

North of Flagstaff, Arizona

“At least it’s dry for now,” Karinne said behind the steering wheel. The freeway had dried off enough for the high-speed driving no longer possible in more populated areas.

Anita turned off the weather station on the car’s radio. The day before, they’d left Phoenix before sunrise, and driven one hundred and forty-five miles to Flagstaff. Last night they’d checked into a hotel and were up early again this morning to finish the distance between Flagstaff and Grand Canyon Village. They’d meet the Hunter brothers in less than an hour. Although the skies were cloudy and gray, the deluge had ended last night, and the women were making good time.

“The sun should come out this afternoon,” Anita said. She reached for her take-out cup of coffee.

“Fingers crossed,” Karinne said. “Or we’ll have a wet hike all the way down to the river.”

“It’s only a day hike,” Anita said cheerfully. “A mile straight down.”

“Fifteen trail miles, and it’s monsoon season, remember? We’re gonna get wet.”

“I know,” Anita said. “But it can’t rain the whole time. I want to take pictures. I brought along a waterproof digital camera.”

Karinne smiled. “Maybe you can let me pay for copies, then.”

“You didn’t bring a camera?”

“Lord, no. I need a break. I’m tired of looking at view screens and through lenses.”

“It’s driving you crazy?” Anita asked sympathetically.

Karinne thought of her last batch of photos showing the woman who reminded her of her mother.

“You have no idea,” she said wryly. “Besides, this way I can spend more time with Max.” Karinne had always loved him. Her memories of Max went so far back she couldn’t tell when childhood worship and friendship had changed into adult love and passion.

“It’ll be good to see Max again,” Anita said. “He leaves the canyon area about as often as Cory does.”

“Which isn’t often.”

“My family wishes I’d married someone local, but I can’t imagine being with anyone but Cory,” Anita said.

“Well, the upside of losing your job is that now you’ll have plenty of time to spend with him.”

Anita nodded. “I’m tired of us being apart. Maybe I can find new employment up north. Married people shouldn’t be separated for such long periods.”

Karinne said nothing. She’d often thought the same thing, as had Max. But Max couldn’t quit his job, and she didn’t want to quit hers. Besides, Jeff Cavanaugh had heart problems and had no other family around, so she felt obliged to stay close to him. Both Karinne and his doctor knew Jeff didn’t take his medication regularly. Whether it was due to forgetfulness or a deliberate attempt to keep his daughter’s attention, the result was the same.

“Hey, where’s your ring?” Anita asked curiously.

“My diamond? At home. I felt it would be safer.” At the last minute, Karinne had removed it—and packed the pink sweatshirt.

“It seems strange to see you without it. In fact, with your jobs, I don’t know how you two ever got engaged. Good thing you were childhood sweethearts.”

Karinne frowned at the old-fashioned term. “Not really.” Her love for Max was based on deep trust since childhood, not some clichéd idea like that.

“How would you describe it, then?” Anita teased.

“Call it destiny, and leave it at that,” Karinne said lightly. “Max and I grew into each other. He’s the man for me.” Karinne darted a quick glance at her friend. “But we all can’t be as lucky as you and Cory, the perfect couple. Even miles apart, you’re happy.”

“We’re not perfect,” Anita said. “And I am happy. But I’d be happier if I could be with him all the time.”

“So would I. With Max, I mean.” She and Max were at a stalemate about the subject of one of them relocating. Karinne appreciated that Max loved his job, but so did she. Not only that, Jeff was too ill to be moved, or, at least, claimed he was.

She remembered their argument the last time she’d postponed the wedding.

“You’re using your father as an excuse, Karinne. With his heart, he should be in an assisted-care facility. Your living at home is no substitute for professional care.”

“He’d be miserable at some nursing home!”

“He’d have a fuller, healthier life than he does right now. We can move him up near us if you want. And no—” he held up a hand when she would have protested “—he isn’t too ill to be moved. He just says that because he doesn’t want to leave his home. But it’s time, and his doctor agrees,” Max insisted.

“How would you like giving up your home?” Karinne countered.

“If I had to, I hope I would do it gracefully. But that’s not the issue. You know how hard Cory and I have worked to make our concession a success. Do you want me to give it up when I’ve finally become profitable? And ruin Cory’s finances in the process?”

“No, but—”

“I’m not trying to be heartless, Karinne. But Cory and I still have to make a living. Support our families, if we have any. You were the one who wanted Jeff to see his grandchildren,” he reminded her.

Karinne flushed. “I know.”

That last argument had convinced her to take the week off and spend more time with Max. Their weekends were usually filled with loving reunions in bed, and lately talking seemed to make things worse. Now Anita and Cory were coming along—but it was Cory’s business, too.

“Well, all four of us will be together this weekend,” Anita continued. “I’m glad you don’t mind me tagging along. If you need privacy, just let us know. Maybe we can split up into pairs. I can catch a mule down with Cory,” Anita suggested. “I’ve never ridden a mule.”

“Mules are usually booked six months in advance. Unless you grow wings, we’re all hiking.” Karinne’s well-worn hiking boots were in the car trunk.

“Cupid’s wings are the only wings we’ll be seeing,” Anita teased. “What with your wedding and all.” She paused. “I wonder why your father hasn’t remarried after all this time.”

“Dad can’t get remarried! He’s…” Widowed? Still married?

“What?” Anita asked.

“Too old,” she quickly substituted.

“I didn’t think you’d mind if he did.”

“If the circumstances were right, I wouldn’t,” Karinne replied. “Let’s please get through one wedding at a time, okay?”

“You shouldn’t make it sound like a chore. This is your future we’re talking about.”

Karinne exhaled. “You’re right. I’m nervous, that’s all.”

“Let me be the nervous one. I just got fired and I have to find a new job. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Karinne said sincerely, trying hard to hide her envy.

I can’t believe it. I’m jealous of Anita—even though she lost her job. She gets to be with her husband.

“You really mean it?” Anita asked. “You might be losing a roommate.”

Karinne nodded. “Of course.”

“Wouldn’t it be great if you could work in the Grand Canyon area yourself?”

“There aren’t any jobs for sports photographers and I don’t want to freelance doing nature pictures. Too much competition and not enough money. There’s no sense wishing for the impossible.”

Even if she wanted things to be different.

Grand Canyon Village parking area

LEANING AGAINST his car, Max eagerly watched the incoming traffic for Karinne. He and Cory had taken a single vehicle to meet the women. Lodging vacancies were scarce and traffic was heavy, despite the overcast sky and “sometimes-yes, sometimes-no” sun. The Grand Canyon was open all year, and according to the visitor count, one of the most popular vacation destinations in the world. Thousands swarmed to see one of nature’s true great wonders. The temperatures inside the canyon desert were warm year-round, even when desert tundra winter cold enveloped the land at rim level. But summertime in Arizona was peak season for tourists and locals alike to experience the rainbow of colors the Colorado River had etched through rocks a mile high. The South Rim parking lots overflowed with trolling cars and frustrated drivers. The Hunter brothers fortunately had employee parking passes.

“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 married. 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.”

Max nodded and turned forward again. For the first time since the ride started, the canyon took a backseat in Karinne’s vision. Max had an air of caring about him that didn’t detract from his masculinity one bit. In fact, she’d always found it one of his most attractive traits. The male athletes she spent her life with were trained to ignore blood and pain, to focus on winning, winning, winning. As the backbone of a multibillion-dollar industry, they were paid exorbitant salaries to do so. No one expected otherwise.

A single sigh would never have signaled such concern from an athlete on the job. Photographers had to suffer the same weather and conditions as the athletes. Even Jeff, her father, had taught her to look after herself, to “be tough” after her mother’s death.

With adult hindsight, Karinne often wished she could take back all the “Mom, stop fussing!” complaints she’d made. The “boring” lessons had been signs of a mother’s love. Other than for Max, only her mother would have responded so quickly to Karinne’s sigh. Strange how one man’s action could strike her so deeply.

In certain ways, Max reminded Karinne of the nineteenth-century explorer, John Wesley Powell, whose life she’d studied in American history courses. His studies of the Grand Canyon were not only his life’s work, but Powell’s personal joy. Powell lived for his expeditions to the Grand Canyon, Green Canyon and the Rocky Mountains.

Karinne studied Max. Of course there were differences, as well. Powell had fought as an army major in the Civil War, losing an arm, which had ended his military career. The Civil War and primitive field medicine had taken its toll on many men, including Powell. The old black-and-white photographs of him hadn’t been kind. They showed a determined, too-thin war survivor. He’d refused to give up his passion for exploration and study, even though his expeditions had taken place in a hostile land.

Max Hunter was a successful native of this wild land. Unlike Powell, Max was healthy without the haggard look of early explorers. He moved with an easy masculine grace that Karinne found a pleasant change from the hurly-burly powerhouses on the sports teams. He didn’t need weights or vitamins to stay in shape. His skin didn’t sport “lucky” tattoos, and his brown hair wasn’t streaked, dyed, spiked or shaved in current men’s trends. Nor did he have facial piercings and diamond-studded earrings.

Max was her perfect match, except for one thing—geographic compatibility. Togetherness would be hard. The Grand Canyon was one of the most photographed areas in the world, but she couldn’t make money there. Nor could she leave her father, not with his heart problem. But lots of people had successful long-distance marriages, including Cory and Anita. Karinne and Max were in love, both committed to making things work, so she’d been happily content…until lately.

Could my mother still be alive? Even the attractive sights and shapes of the canyon around her—including Max Hunter—couldn’t distract her. However, she’d try to stay calm. After all, she thought, I’m on vacation….

FIVE LONG HOURS of riding in intermittent drizzle brought the mules to the Tonto formation. By then, all riders—from first-timers to the more experienced—were ready to dismount and stretch their muscles. The park ranger and wranglers made certain the mules were properly tied to the hitching posts, warned against littering, then checked out the tack while most riders headed for the Porta Potties. Soon after, lunches and drinks were distributed. Karinne and Max both ate their sandwiches standing.

“We’re two-thirds of the way there,” he said as he noticed Karinne rubbing her shapely behind. “Sore?”

“Not too bad.” She dropped her hand and reached into her box lunch for more chips, then fed him one before eating some herself. “Airport lounges and plane seats are worse. At least the sun’s out.”

Max nodded. “Looks like it might rain again. The air has that feel.”

“You’ll have to keep me warm tonight,” Karinne said, passion sparking in her eyes. “Maybe we can zip our sleeping bags together….”

“I think that can be arranged. I’ve missed you. I’m tired of missing you.”

“We’ve been together our whole lives,” Karinne gently reminded him.

“I’m not talking about living on the same street. I’m talking about being husband and wife. We were childhood friends, and we’ve done the lovers routine. It’s time to take that step forward, become marriage partners.”

“I never considered being your lover as routine.”

“Isn’t that what’s it’s become, Karinne? You meet me, or I meet you, we catch up on conversation and sex, and separate until the next time.”

“That sounds so clinical,” she said, uneasy at the tone of his voice.

“You know what I mean,” Max said impatiently. “And the worst part is, marriage isn’t going to change much. We’ll still be stuck in the same rut, unless one of us wants to become unemployed.”

“That’s the problem with the girl next door. She doesn’t always stay there.”

Max made no comment. After an uneasy pause, Karinne spoke. “I hope the rain lets up tomorrow. I want to do some hiking.”

“Where?”

“Oh, just some of the areas where Powell’s expedition took photos. Too bad so many of those pictures didn’t survive.”

“Some of them did. You should be able to pick up a book in the gift store later.” To Karinne’s relief, Max sounded like his normal self again. “I’ve seen them there.”

“I planned on it. I especially want to see C. C. Spaulding’s work,” Karinne said.

“Sorry—I’m not familiar with the name.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s a mystery man. All that’s known of him are his photos. Anyway, Spaulding took a photo in 1906 of an unidentified skeleton. His caption reads ‘The Toll.’ Supposedly Spaulding found him a few miles below this trail. The person—a white male—had a newspaper dated 1900.”

“I know photographers have been shooting the canyon since the 1870s,” Max said.

“Yes, but this photo is special. Compositionally, it’s a piece of art—and it’s an Old West mystery. No one’s ever discovered who the man was.”

“Are you going to try?”

“No. I have my own mystery to solve.” Karinne shook her head, then lifted her chin. No time like the present. “Max…the other day, I got a package in the mail. There was a Grand Canyon sweatshirt—pink—inside.”

“Pink, huh? That was your favorite color when you were small,” he remembered. “You don’t wear it much now.”

“So you didn’t send it?” she asked, not surprised, thinking of the note inside the package. Even so, she wanted Max’s opinion on the subject.

“No. You have a secret admirer I don’t know about?”

“Hardly.” There’d never been anyone for Karinne but Max. As a child, she’d adored the older brother of Cory, her playmate. As a teen, she’d had a crush on the man. As a woman, she loved him and gloried in the knowledge that he loved her back.

“Maybe Cory sent it,” Max suggested.

“I doubt it.”

Max peered at her. He could always read her moods. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I just wondered who it was really from.”

“Wasn’t there a card?”

“Yes, but there was no name.”

Max frowned. Karinne hesitated to ruin his good mood. This was their first reunion in months. “I’ll show it to you later, okay? When I unpack. Right now I’d rather talk about Spaulding.”

“Ah.” Max seemed satisfied, and Karinne breathed a sigh of relief. She changed the subject to something safer.

“I read about C. C. Spaulding in Dellenbaugh’s book, A Canyon Voyage. In 1871, when Frederick Dellenbaugh was seventeen, he joined Powell’s second canyon expedition. He painted the area.”

“Oil paintings, right?”

“Yeah. There was no color film, of course, just black-and-white,” Karinne said, warming to her subject. “Oil landscapes were the accepted travel fliers of the day. He traveled all over the world to paint.”

“I’ve seen the book, but I haven’t read it,” Max said.

“Some editions of his book are illustrated with black-and-white photographs from that same period. Powell had a knack for picking the best men for his expeditions. Perhaps we can retrace some of their footsteps together.”

“That’s a lot of footsteps.” Max smiled. He opened his mouth as she fed him another potato chip.

“I didn’t mean today. We’ll have the rest of our lives to do that.”

“I want more time with you than the fits and spurts we get now.” Max took her hand and pulled her close for a hug. “I haven’t said anything to him yet, but I’d like to make Cory a full partner. Maybe we can hire more workers in a few summers, too. It’ll give you and me more time together.”

“I’d like that, Max.”

“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.”

“Yes, but this was the first time he didn’t act excited about the wedding. He wasn’t…himself. I didn’t want to say anything about Mom to him.”

“Does Anita know about this? The note? The sweatshirt?”

Karinne shook her head. “No. She has enough to worry about, losing her job and all.”

“I don’t think she’s that upset about losing her job anymore. And if she is, I’ll make it up to her,” Cory said with a sexy smirk. “Long-distance marriages are for the birds. I don’t know how military wives or husbands stand it.”

“They don’t have a choice. Like me.”

“You’re wrong. You do have a choice, Karinne. You just refuse to see it.”

Karinne shifted uneasily in her seat and decided not to comment on Cory’s observation. She steered the conversation back to the earlier topic.

“You don’t believe my mother’s alive, do you?” she asked.

“No way.”

“Dad didn’t, either. But I have a feeling—”

“Wishful thinking.”

“We’ve always been straight with each other, Cory. If you were me, what would you do?”

“I wouldn’t take any chances with a deranged stalker,” he said.

“Why would anyone stalk me? I’m no celebrity.”

“Still, you shouldn’t set yourself up as target for some creepy con artist.”

“I don’t intend to…but I thought I’d wear the top,” Karinne blurted out.

Cory ran his hand through his hair. “But we just agreed that your mother’s dead.”

“Yes…” Karinne took in a deep breath. “If by some miracle she isn’t…wearing it would be a signal, wouldn’t it? Like a green light saying I’m approachable.”

“Skip the green lights for anyone but Max,” Cory said. “Forget about this woman—and go back to flower arrangements for the wedding. Guest lists. Whatever.”

“I still have to tell Max.”

Cory swore. Karinne stared at him in frank amazement. “Sorry.” Cory piled his tray with the empty dishes and glasses. “It’s just that the same thing’s been happening to Max.”

“What?”

“He’s been getting crank calls from someone who claims to be your mother.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?” At Cory’s raised eyebrows, she winced. “I know—I’m guilty of the same thing.” She frowned. “Did he go to the police?”

“Yes, but he learned nothing. You two need to talk.”

Karinne nodded. “This trip’s off to a great start.”

“Tell him,” Cory ordered, throwing down his napkin and rising. “Now’s as good a time as any.” He gestured toward Max, who was returning to their table. “See you later.”

Karinne sipped her coffee as Max rejoined her. “I showed Anita where the women’s dorms are, where you and she will be staying tonight.”

“Dorms…” Karinne groaned with dismay. “Too bad they don’t have a real hotel down here. Or someplace we could share a sleeping bag.”

“That’s the story of our life, isn’t it? Never together.”

Karinne shivered. “Don’t say never.”

Max pointed at her coffee. “Are you ready to go?”

“Not yet.” She set down her mug. “I wanted to talk to you about a photo I took a few months ago. There was this woman…” She told Max everything that had happened back at the stadium and her visit to the police station.

“I even told Dad about it, but he didn’t buy it.”

A long pause seemed to fill the air. The other diners faded into the background. Max’s expression seemed so serious Karinne shivered.

“I may have heard from that woman, too,” he finally said.

“Cory told me,” Karinne whispered. “And she claimed to be my mother?”

“Yes.”

A million questions jumped into her mind. She asked the easiest one. “When was this?”

“Almost two months ago. After we put our engagement announcement in the paper. A woman called. Said she was Margot and wanted to wish us well.”

Karinne shivered again, despite the hot coffee. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because the Flagstaff police and park rangers thought it was a crank call. So did I.”

“That’s what the Phoenix police told me. But obviously this goes beyond that. You should’ve said something,” she insisted.

“And you, too.”

She bowed her head in acknowledgment. “You don’t think…my mother could be alive, do you?”

“No.”

“I wish the woman had called me instead of you,” Karinne said. “I would’ve recognized the voice if it really was Mom.”

“I’m glad she didn’t. I’d hate to think she had your phone number. Or worse, your address,” Max said. “This person does have my address,” Karinne admitted miserably. “She sent me a Grand Canyon sweatshirt—and a note.”

“Someone actually sent you a package? When?”

“Last week. This woman wants to see me.”

Max’s eyes darkened with concern. “Go on.”

“I threw the whole package out. But then I fished it out of the trash and brought the top with me. I thought maybe…I should wear it.”

“Why?”

“As…a signal, in case Mom is alive. To let her know I’m approachable.”

“Don’t encourage this craziness! That’s the last thing you want!”

“That’s what Cory said.”

“You’ve talked to Cory about this, and not me?” he asked angrily.

Karinne flushed. “Just a few minutes ago. And don’t lecture me, Max. You told Cory about your incident with this strange woman. Cory, not me.”

“Point taken.” He sighed. “In future, we have to be more forthright with each other.”

“Then I’ll say it right out. I want to follow this and see where it leads.”

“What’s next? A stalker crashing the wedding?”

Karinne shook her head. “I don’t think this woman wants to hurt me. She’s respected my privacy so far.”

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