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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.”