The Reluctant Bride (7 page)

“I came because I care. Do you really want to waste the little time we have together arguing?”

“I don't want to argue at all. We're finished, Karinne. I've loved you forever, but I want more. When this trip is over, when this mystery is solved and I know you're safe, we're over.”

“So does that mean we still can make love?”

“I'm not in the mood, Karinne.”

Desperate, she leaned toward his lips and kissed him. “I can get you in the mood.”

Max didn't kiss her back.

“Enough,” he said. “I don't want to be with a little girl. Deep down, that's all you are, Karinne. A little girl still hoping for her mother to come home. I can't wait any longer for you to grow up. I won't.”

 

T
HE MORNING SUN
rose in the east, sending shafts of light down through the canyon. The light flashed off the Colorado and bounced off the colored canyon spires, splintering into rays and projecting thin shadows on the walls. Despite the cheery morning, the four campers got a late start. Other water craft were already under way when Max and Cory finally launched the raft, the women seated within, the gear tightly fastened and neatly stowed.

Karinne didn't even try to stifle her yawn, despite both hands on her paddle. Sleep had been a long time coming, and when she finally did drop off, she hadn't slept well. She couldn't believe Max had broken off their relationship. She'd tossed and turned. She'd had nightmares about Max leaving her at the altar. Then she'd dreamed of her mother.

Never would she have imagined that Max would have such doubts and end their engagement. At least he'd promised to stay with her to see this through. She hoped that would be enough time for her to make things right between them. Nor could she have guessed that he'd have had contact with the “ghost.” If by some miracle Margot Cavanaugh was alive, what would Karinne's father say? Would Karinne be able to get beyond feeling angry and cheated? And would Max be able to see past another distraction interfering with his and Karinne's relationship?

Karinne wanted to believe Max would remain true, just
as she wanted to believe the woman
was
her mother, not her subconscious reacting to some tragic old photo or wishful thinking as her father had suggested. Either way, the shock of recognition she'd felt two weeks ago, seeing that woman, had been reinforced yesterday a thousandfold.

Ahead in the raft, Max heard her and turned around. “Wake up, Karinne.”

“I'm awake.”

“Not enough,” he warned. “We've got Kwagunt Rapid coming up in a few miles. I don't want to fish you out again.”

“I won't fall in.”

“When's the next white water?” Anita asked.

“Mile 56,” Max said. “But the 60s are calmer.”

“Much more time to enjoy the scenery,” Cory told them.

“We have to get through the rapids first,” Max reminded them.

I'm beginning to hate that word,
Karinne thought. The white water soon approached and despite her mood her adrenaline soared. It was hard to remain centered on anything other than the Colorado River. Max and Cory powered their way through the current, using their strong arms and shoulders to maneuver the raft. A few times Karinne thought the current might rip her paddle right out of her hand, but she held on.

She tried to think dispassionately about Max's accusation. Was there any truth to it? Karinne felt he hadn't been entirely fair. She was a successful adult, a successful professional, a responsible daughter.

But yesterday she'd fallen off the raft and panicked like a child. Karinne didn't like how the Grand Canyon put her and Max on an unequal footing, as if…as if he was her babysitter. She hated that feeling. Anywhere else they were
equals. In the canyon, Max was the adult. Karinne was just along for the ride.

Were she and Max even marriage material? Had a “ghost story” ruined her wedding? Turning off her thoughts was about as easy as stopping the current, but for her own future, she'd have to discover those answers. If the next few days were as troubled as the past few, it didn't bode well.

Karinne was emotionally exhausted when the rapids finally faded into smoother water. She breathed a sigh of relief, then of enjoyment at the beauty and calmness surrounding them. Around the raft, the coarse brown Tapeats Sandstone embraced the river and rose high. Water weathered everything, even rock. Would
she
be able to weather this latest turn of events? Karinne wanted to wear that sweatshirt, see what happened. She could put her paddle in the water and determine her own course…or would she sit and drift aimlessly like the child Max accused her of being, letting others care for her.

I can't. I won't.

“How's everyone doing?” Max asked.

“Great.” Anita squeezed water out of her long braid. “Wet.”

“How about you, Karinne?” Max asked.

“I could go for a breather. What's next?”

“An easy ride along calm shoreline,” Max said. “We're coming up on the Little Colorado River.”

“Can we get out?”

“Not yet. Park rules forbid it for another three miles,” Max said. “The shores here are sacred ground to the local Hopi.”

“Why?”

“The area's full of salt deposits. They're used in Native
American religious ceremonies.” Max pointed to the pure-white bands that ran parallel and just above the water.

“Salt is…sacred?” Anita asked.

“The Hopi, Pueblo and Navajo harvest salt and use it in rituals,” Max said. “The Zunis consider it the actual flesh of the deity.”

“It's used in rituals with children,” Cory added. “They believe salt nourishes life.”

Karinne felt a pang inside. She imagined happy mothers with smiling babies, observing all the rites of passage in their young lives. For all but six years of her life, she hadn't experienced that with her own mother. It had been her father and the Hunters who'd been there. It had been Max at all the important events in her life. And now Max said it was over. He and Karinne would never have any children. Although Karinne had never felt a strong pull toward motherhood, that reality suddenly knifed through her.

“I'm surprised there's any salt left,” Anita observed. “I thought the explorers used it to preserve food.”

“Europeans weren't allowed here. According to the Zunis, not everyone was respectful of Salt Woman. That made her so angry, she left the Grand Canyon forever,” Cory said.

Like my mother left us for the desert river and a fake grave?

“The deity moved to Zuni Salt Lake in western New Mexico. But at the last moment, Salt Woman relented and left some of her precious body—the deposits—behind for her people, their children and their children's children.”

The mist seemed to settle in more heavily on the shore.

“It feels special here…” Anita murmured in a hushed, respectful voice.

The mist swirled above the sacred grounds Salt Woman had abandoned so long ago. Karinne could practically hear the whispers of the past in the fog, see the images that were alive, yet not alive, almost supernatural. The aura seemed to bounce off the walls with a power that pressed at her, demanding her attention. She shivered visibly.

Max noticed. He always noticed. “You want my jacket?” he asked.

“Thanks, but I have something.”
It's now or never.

Karinne laid her paddle over her lap and opened the side of her backpack. She'd packed nothing in that pocket except for the sweatshirt wrapped in a plastic bag.

“Think about what you're doing,” Max said as he saw the pink. Karinne seemed to hear the child from her past warning her, as well.

“We'll stop after the salt deposits,” Cory was saying. “You'll have time to warm up then.”

“Karinne…are you sure about this?” Max demanded.

She nodded.
I have to know. What happened to my mother?
“You said you'd help me, Max.”

Max stripped off his windbreaker and held it out to Karinne. “Last chance.” She shook her head.

Karinne pulled out the plastic bag with one hand and set down the paddle.

Karinne withdrew the sweatshirt. She shed her slicker and stared at the material. The neon-pink color clashed with the pureness of the shimmering salt around them. Karinne ran her fingers along one sleeve, remembering how her mother's favorite roses were pink.

I don't know how or why, but I feel as if Mom's back.

By now Anita and Cory were watching. All conversation in the raft ceased. Cory's paddling grew noticeably faster, while Anita pretended to take in the scenery. Max's eyes
grew as dark as the shadows in the rock. It didn't matter. Karinne slipped her arms inside the pink sleeves and pulled the shirt on over her head.

I have to learn the truth.

Anita spoke first. “It looks nice, Karinne,” she said politely.

“Do you know what you're doing?” Cory asked with customary bluntness.

“Calm down, Cory,” Karinne said. “Let's not fight over my wardrobe.”

“This isn't about your taste in clothing!” Cory yelled. “It's about thinking things through. This person is sick. Take it off, Karinne. This could be…risky.”

“Leave her alone,” Max said curtly. “She wants to know. Frankly, so do I.”

“You do?” Cory sounded surprised.

Karinne smiled. Max understood. It was one of the reasons she loved him.

“It's safer for Karinne to meet her mother—if she's alive—around us,” Max continued, speaking to Cory. “God forbid she should run into this person alone. I promised Karinne I'd help her.”

Karinne held her breath, hoping Max wouldn't add what else he'd said—that they were through. Karinne's smile faded. His offer to search for her mother had only reinforced her protected status.

“You don't need to drag Cory and Anita into this, Max.”

“There's safety in numbers.”

Karinne couldn't argue with that. She crossed her arms, feeling chilled, despite the dryness of the new sweatshirt. “I don't want to talk about it. Can't we just enjoy the scenery?”

“Sure.” Max made a big show of steering them around a tame-looking rock formation in the middle of the river. “We're headed toward the Great Unconformity.”

“I still think you're crazy, Karinne,” Cory announced tersely.

“What's the Great Unconformity?” Anita asked, making an effort at conversation.

“The foundation is badly off center. Look at the tilt. It's missing a chronological order of rock,” Max said.

“A big chunk of my history is missing, too,” Karinne said.
Everything
seemed to remind her of that.

“I thought you didn't want to talk about it,” Cory snapped.

“I don't, but I want you to understand. I refuse to have my future—mine and Max's—” she said this deliberately “—threatened. And that means finding out who sent me this top.” Karinne thought of “The Toll,” the skeleton in the photo. “I want more than a few notes or a piece of clothing. I want more than bare bones.”

“No matter what you uncover?” Cory asked. “Even if it's some crazy person?”

“Leave it be,” Max said. “She's made her decision.”

Cory swore and dropped his paddle. Max retrieved it.

“Break time.” Max grabbed for the waterproof map. “We can plan to have our lunch stop at the Cardenas Creek ruins eight miles downriver from here. It's the last area before more rapids, and I won't put this raft in them until everyone calms down and has his or her mind on business. I don't need any more people overboard.”

No one argued.

The sun shone high overhead as the men beached and secured the raft. They all hiked up a small ridge, where the ruins were located. Max led the way, followed by Karinne, Anita and Cory. It didn't take them long to reach the tall ruins, where they sat down for lunch. Below, the river meandered through a wide area with shorelines.

“It's so open. What a great view of the canyon.” Anita briskly unwrapped one of the sandwiches they'd made the night before, since no one else seemed to have an appetite. “No wonder the Pueblo Natives built the watchtower here.”

Cory gestured toward the carefully fitted rocks, which had stood the test of time and thrust upward to the azure-blue of the sky. “The Colorado stays clear of white water for another sixteen miles or so.”

“It'll be smooth sailing. Tomorrow, we'll be on the river and then hit Phantom Ranch again. We'll spend the night at the lodge,” Max said.

“Ah, civilization.” Anita sighed extravagantly. “Telephones, gift stores and running water.”

“Don't forget easy access for creeps,” Cory added, glaring at the pink sweatshirt.

“I want to see the watchtower ruins up close. Come on, Cory,” Anita said. “Bring our food.”

Cory stood and followed Anita. Karinne scanned the ruins, silently reading the guide signs. The atmosphere was tense and uneasy until Max finally spoke. “Can I ask you a hypothetical question?”

“Of course.”

“If Margot wasn't the loving mother you always thought she was, would you want to know?”

“Yes,” Karinne said immediately.

“Even though you were happy with her memories?”

“Max, where's this going? What's your point?”

Max gazed out into the beauty before them. The serenity of the canyon and its soaring towers and sides of rock were decidedly at odds with his expression.

“For starters, your mystery woman did more than just call a few months ago. She wanted money, supposedly to pay for her trip to come and see you. Of course I didn't give her any or make any arrangements to contact her in the future.”

Karinne felt her hopes dash. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm telling you now. There's something else. I called your father.”

“You called Dad instead of me? Max, how could you? Why didn't you talk to me first?”

“I could ask the same thing. You should've talked to me about your mother before you talked to Cory.”

Karinne flushed. “It's not the same thing. I'm not a little girl. I don't need you running to my father.”

“I tried to reach you.” His tone of voice accused her. “You're never at home, Karinne. Nor do you answer your cell phone.”

“I can't while I'm working! You know I return your calls as soon as I can, but you're never topside when I do. It's not my fault cells don't work in the canyon.”

“Nothing like a long-distance relationship without even phone contact,” he said with more than a trace of bitterness. “Anyway, I called your father and talked to him. He asked me to wait until after the wedding to tell you. He's absolutely convinced that your mother's dead. I had him hire me a private detective in Phoenix. Financially, you could be taken advantage of—emotionally, as well.”

“Why? Because I'm a helpless female?” she asked sharply.

Max shrugged. “Under the circumstances…”

“You decided to keep me out of the loop.” Karinne's lips thinned. “Who else did you talk to? Cory?”

“He knows about the calls and the detective. And…that I saw your mother the day she disappeared.” Max met her gaze. “You
saw
her?” she echoed.

“Yes. Margot came to the house. She wanted to know where you were.”

“Mom was there?”

“I told her I didn't know where you were. But I did. You were inside the house with Cory.”

“Oh, my God. You lied to her?”

“I lied.”

“Maybe she wanted to say goodbye.” Karinne's voice shook. “I always knew she loved me…”

“Maybe she wanted to kidnap you, assuming she's alive. Or maybe she wanted to kill herself
and
you.”

“Mom would never do that!”

“It's not unheard of among unhappy parents,” Max said. “How do you know? Would you have guessed she'd leave a suicide note and disappear into the river?”

“Perhaps seeing me might have…might have chased away her depression. You were just a boy, Max. You had no right to make that decision.”

“I did, and I can't change it. Nor would I if I had to do it over again. You didn't see Margot that day. I did. She scared me, Karinne. She wasn't herself.”

Tears started down Karinne's cheeks. “And I never saw her again.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You should've called me! You had no right to interfere, Max.”

“Whether I did or didn't makes no difference now. And
once this investigation of ours is over, I'm done interfering—or whatever you want to call it.”

Karinne rubbed her eyes, then abruptly dropped her hands. “You're really serious about us breaking up?”

“What's to break up? We're never together. And as you yourself pointed out, we can't talk on the phone. Are we supposed to write each other letters every weekend and get older and lonelier as the years go by? We're not kids anymore, living on the same street. We're adults, Karinne.”

“But we love each other! How can you throw it all away? I've loved you since I was a girl.”

“Maybe that's the problem. I'm just a habit, a familiar routine. And you take advantage of it. Maybe I have, too. But this thing with your mother has opened my eyes. If it isn't your job, or your father, or your ghost of a mother keeping us apart, it'll be something else…some other excuse.”

“But—”

Max held up his hand. “I'm not saying your reasons aren't important to you.”

“No. You're just saying
I'm
not important anymore. That you're not going to wait for me.”

“You're only half right. You'll always be important to me, Karinne. But let me spell it out. You want to search for a ghost? Fine. I'll even help. But I'm done waiting for a reluctant bride. You want to embrace phantoms instead of a living man, go ahead. I'd rather deal with reality, and get on with my life.”

Karinne rose to her feet and turned her back on him. Max watched her leave and then hurry down to the trail to the shoreline. The most beautiful geological formation in the world spread out its rocky rainbows before them, but right now neither of them could appreciate it. After a moment, Max carefully put away the sandwiches. He
signaled to Cory and Anita and, feeling as old as the rocks in the canyon, started down the trail himself.

They set up camp late in the afternoon, everyone damp and exhausted from the rapids. The two tents were set far enough apart for privacy, but for once Karinne wasn't looking forward joyfully to her and Max's time alone. Dinner had been a strained affair. Cory and Anita had obviously enjoyed each other's company, laughing, talking and planning a future, while Karinne inwardly writhed, comparing them with Max and her.

Later, after the dishes were done and the sleeping bags rolled out, Cory and Anita sat around the campfire, side by side, arms around each other with an intimacy that brought tears to her eyes. Max took off to check on the raft and the cargo that had remained stowed, leaving Karinne alone. The sounds of the river water seemed harsh, intrusive, while the darkness of the night seemed to emphasize her loneliness.

Finally she said good-night to Cory and Anita and headed for her tent, where she kicked off her boots, then lay down, fully clothed, on top of the sleeping bag. She crossed her arms behind her head and gazed upward, her eyes unfocused, remembering the past. Memories of her mother and father and happier times flooded her mind. And sharing all those memories were Cory and Max…especially Max.

She never would've guessed that Max had sent Margot away from his house without telling her. She angrily wondered why he'd kept that secret from her for so long. Her anger rose at his betrayal now in calling off their wedding. Had she really been as selfish as he thought? She didn't think so. Max and Cory had each other growing up; they still had each other as adults. As an only child, she'd clung to her mother as all little girls did, and mourned Margot's
absence in her life. How could she not follow up on this mystery? And how could she make him see that loving Margot didn't detract one bit from her loving him? She'd been blessed to have Max in her life. She wasn't about to give him up without a fight.

It was past ten, late for river trips, when Max finally entered the tent. He saw Karinne, still dressed, awake.

“We have an early day tomorrow. You should get to bed,” he suggested, sitting on his own bag and untying his sneakers.

“Kind of hard to sleep,” she responded. “You dumped me today, remember?”

Max said nothing. She sat up and crossed her legs, watching him undress. She took in the strength of his shoulders, the hard chest she'd snuggled up to so many times, the lean hips. He stripped down to his briefs, hesitated, removed those and climbed into his sleeping bag, leaving the side unzipped. Like Karinne, though, he remained sitting.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then we won't talk. We'll make love instead.” Karinne started to undress.

“Karinne…”

“Your exact words were…when this business with your mother is over, we're done. It's not over yet. No reason we can't enjoy each other's company.” She dropped her shirt, and then her jeans. “I still love you. It's been a long time since we've been together. You can't say you haven't missed me.”

“You're just making things harder,” Max said, but he didn't look away as she dropped her bra and panties onto the pile of discarded clothing.

“One last time, Max,” she said, kneeling before him. “One last time, and I won't ask again.”

For a moment she thought he'd rebuff her, but he didn't. He reached for her and brought her close, his lips meeting hers. Then he pulled her down and stroked the bare skin of her back, murmuring words of love. She responded the way she always did with him, her body and soul drinking him in, her heart throbbing with the joy and passion he aroused in her. But this time, their physical satisfaction left her emotionally unfulfilled.

And later, when Karinne crawled back into her own sleeping bag, Max didn't protest. It was only then that she realized Max could be right. Perhaps it was truly over, after all.

But then she heard Max say, “Karinne?”

She forced herself to answer calmly. “Yes?”

“I wanted you to see how I live. Really live, not just on weekends. That's why I wanted this trip. I needed to know if you could love this place, too, enough to be here with me.”

Hope welled within her. “Then let me try. I've made mistakes. You're right about my father,” she admitted. “He does need more than I can give him.”