The Reluctant Bride by Anne Marie Duquette Read Free Book Online

that a little rain was falling.
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    T HE 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’dspent 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 slowedmuch 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.
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    M AX AND K ARINNE MET up with Cory and Anita in the dining area at Phantom