The Reluctant Bride (8 page)

Silence.

“I shouldn't have expected you to raise our family alone,” Max admitted.

Karinne almost smiled. “Well, we're making progress. Max, don't write us off yet.”

“No,” he said simply. “But if by some miracle things go well—and I'm not making any promises—can you live without your career?” he asked.

“It'd be hard. I'll always be a photographer.” She paused, then asked a more difficult question in return. “Do you think you could give up having children? Could you be happy with it just being us?”

“It'd be hard,” he echoed. “Especially if you intend to go chasing after your mother.”

“Even if she's alive?”

“I know you, Karinne. You'll want to make up lost years if she is.”

Karinne couldn't deny it.

“No matter what happens, you'll have to choose between your parents and me,” Max said finally. “If that's too much for you, then when this trip is over, you accept that we're done. We'll be civilized adults, okay?”

Karinne thought of the unsatisfactory lovemaking they'd just shared. Max was right. They couldn't live the rest of their lives this way.

“Okay.”

 

T
HE NEXT MORNING
dawned clear and sunny, but Karinne had no heart for the beauty of the day, the canyon or the river. Nor did she have any enthusiasm for the three sets of rapids the raft entered once they left Cardenas Creek. She felt physically dull and emotionally heartbroken, so much so that Cory spoke to her once they got to Mile 77, start of the Upper Granite Gorge.

“Karinne, what's wrong?” he asked.

She pushed her wet, straggling hair out of her face. “I didn't sleep well last night.” In her peripheral vision she saw Max lift his head sharply, but couldn't meet his gaze. She determinedly studied the pink of the mica and the milky white of the quartz, crystallized Precambrian rock glistening in the sun.

“Wake up,” Max said harshly. “These gorge walls narrow substantially. They'll constrict the river and drastically speed up the current. We'll be hitting three sets of rapids with very little breathing space all the way to Phantom Ranch.”

“How little breathing space?” Anita asked.

“Two sets of rapids before we clear Creek Canyon at mile 84, then another set before we reach the Kaibab Trail.”

Unaccountably, Karinne felt like bursting into tears. Instead, she concentrated on keeping herself safe and managed to control her emotions. By the end of the longest day of her life, they finally got to Phantom Ranch. Karinne was relieved when Cory checked them in at the front desk. Outside, the shadows lengthened from one canyon wall to the other and covered the rustic lodge near the north side of the river. Close to Bright Angel Creek lay a tent campground for the hardier tourists. Various watercraft were docked for the night. The mules in the corrals were already eating a well-deserved dinner. Inside, other sight-seers headed for semiprivate bunking areas or the men's and women's dormitories. The brothers had secured a private cabin, which, unlike the dorms, had its own sink, toilet and bathing area.

Karinne wasn't looking forward to putting on a cheerful face with the other three in such close quarters. Max had managed to act like his usual self, but Karinne wasn't having as easy a time. How could Max throw away everything they'd shared?

Along with the grief and anguish, she felt anger. Max had no right to use Margot as a reason for ending their engagement. He could've been indirectly responsible for Margot's death, if she truly was dead. What if Margot
had
been able to see Karinne that fateful day? What if the sight of her loving daughter could have wiped out whatever dark thoughts and deeds she carried within? Max couldn't be correct about a proposed kidnapping. Margot would never take her away from her father. As for a murder-suicide, Karinne didn't believe that, either.

But she couldn't mull over these ideas, couldn't cry or
rave about them. She had to share a tiny cabin with three other people, one of them her ex-fiancé.

“At least we won't have to use the dorm's communal showers,” Cory was saying. “We'll have our own bathroom.”

Max accepted the old-fashioned key attached by brass to an artful piece of carved wood. “The cabins do have more privacy.”

“I like the rustic feel,” Karinne said, forcing herself to participate in the conversation.

“Look, a real
key
instead of a magnetic strip card,” Anita marveled. “And the wood's a carved deer.”

“We're room Deer-15,” Cory said. “
A
is antelope, then bear, cougar, deer and so on.”

“May I?” Anita asked, gesturing toward the key.

“Sure.” Max tossed it to Anita to admire. She passed it to Karinne, who pocketed it in her jeans. “Our cabin has two single beds,” Max was saying. “You and Karinne can have them. Cory and I can bunk on the floor.”

“Unless you find room to squeeze me in.” Cory grinned at Anita.

Karinne deliberately avoided Max's eyes. She doubted he'd be making any offers to snuggle in a single bed.

The four made their way through the crowds to their cabin. Cory unlocked the door and they all dropped their gear.

“We should eat first and shower later,” Cory said; the others agreed.

After a quick wipe of their trail-dusty hands and faces, they hurried toward the dining area, Cory and Anita leading the way. The line waiting to eat was long; the wood-and-twine-bound chairs at wooden trestle tables provided limited seating. People smelling of sweat and bug spray were packed in as tightly as possible. But the hot stew, bread
and brownies served family-style were delicious. Adults busied themselves with “chowing down.” Even children, prone to laughing and talking, were eating with the single-minded hunger triggered by outdoor air and exercise.

Karinne still had half the food left on her plate when the others set down their silverware. The servings were extremely generous, she'd thought, and the others ate with relish. At least eating gave her an excuse for not talking. Max had finished first and was getting another cup of coffee. Anita had gone back in line for seconds. Karinne set her fork on the table.

“Done already?” Cory asked. “I assumed you'd be starving.”

“I'm not really hungry,” Karinne admitted.

“Then if you don't mind…” Cory swapped his empty plate for her half-filled one. “This way, I won't have to stand in line again.”

“Speaking of lines, I think I'll go shower first. I have the room key.” She was eager to escape Max and have a few minutes to herself.

“Oh. I'll walk you over,” Cory said politely, reluctantly putting down his fork.

“Don't. You're not finished eating, and Max and Anita will lose the table.” Karinne gestured to all the people with trays standing against the wall. “See you back at the cabin.”

Cory nodded, fork in hand again as he tackled Karinne's leftover stew.

Karinne threaded her way through the crowds standing in line, indoors and out, breathing a sigh of relief as she escaped. Phantom Ranch was as busy as any convention center; people crowded the grounds, some of them eating picnic-style, while others were busy inspecting exhibits, signs and park maps. Pink sweatshirt or not, she doubted
anyone, including her mother, could spot her in this mob scene.

She really wanted a shower. She reached their cabin and walked inside. She pulled off the sweatshirt, and placed it and the key on the nightstand. After a moment, she decided to leave the entrance door unlocked. She wasn't planning a long shower, but she didn't want to have to cut it short to let the others in. She gathered a fresh set of clothes, plus her wallet with ID and money, then stepped into the tiny bathroom, latched the door and stripped for a quick shower. The water was warm enough for comfort, but she wouldn't have minded another towel. Fortunately, there was a mirror. She brushed her teeth and hair, then got dressed, still in the bathroom.

She unlatched the bathroom door, rolling up her dirty laundry to stow away—and heard someone move inside the cabin.

“Is that you, Max?” she called, opening the door.

The person sitting on the bed wasn't Max but a woman. She rose and stood awkwardly, the lined face familiar, as was her voice.

“Hello, Karinne.”

Karinne dropped her dirty laundry on the floor.

“Mom?”

“It's me,” Margot said.

Karinne stared.
I knew it. I knew I wasn't crazy.

Margot held out her arms. “Can I have a hug?”

Karinne didn't hesitate. She rushed into her mother's arms. The two women held each other tightly, too overwhelmed for tears or smiles. After long minutes, Margot gently released her daughter.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let's walk over to my place.”

Margot had her own cabin, Bear-3, with its intricately carved wooden animal on the end of the key. They were a ten-minute walk from Karinne's, but neither noticed the passage of time.

“So I
did
see you on the pontoon,” Karinne said.

“You scared me to death when you fell off the raft. I didn't mean to startle you,” Margot apologized.

“And I saw you in the stadium in Phoenix, too.”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been here in the canyon?” Karinne asked.

“A week. I was determined to see you, even if you didn't wear my gift.”

“But I did.”

“The pink's very loud, isn't it? It's all the gift shop had in your size.”

Karinne smiled. “Why didn't you call me or come to my apartment? Or the house? Why call Max? Why the cloak-and-dagger routine?” Then the questions she had came tumbling out. “Why didn't you come home? Where were you all this time?”

Margot's own smile faded. “It's not a story I'm proud of, but it's one you have a right to know. Let's go inside.”

Margot unlocked her cabin. The two women sat side by side on one of the beds, the mother holding both of her daughter's hands as they talked.

“I had—have—a gambling problem,” she said quietly. “I don't understand why, but it's always been there. My father was a gambler, too. You never knew him, Karinne, but he used to live for horse races, greyhound tracks, casinos… You name it, he bet on it. I went with him. And when I was old enough, I gambled, too. Not for fun, like a normal person. It's a disease. My disease.”

“I never would've guessed, Mom.”

“It's true. I hid it for years and fought to stop, but I never could for long. When I was dating your father, I realized I had to do something. I started going to Gamblers Anonymous meetings. Once we were married, I'd stopped cold turkey. I stayed that way for years. Then I had you and while I was home taking care of a child, I got bored. I missed my job, felt sorry for myself, your father was off traveling and I was stuck at home. That's no excuse—but I started gambling again.”

Margot's voice grew shaky, and then she steadied herself.

“First it was just card games for pennies with the other young moms in the neighborhood. Then lotto tickets. I told myself it was okay. I wasn't betting much. But by the time you started school and I returned to work, I had the fever again. I went back to old habits and high stakes. I gambled
away all my paychecks. Then I started in on your father's earnings. He found out.”

“But Dad didn't leave you,” Karinne said, confused.

“No. I began going back to meetings, and he took safeguards to protect our finances. But I never realized how much a child could affect our careers. We decided no more children. I stayed home with you more—and I resented you both.” Margot swallowed hard. “Again, no excuse.”

“Dad didn't know?”

“Not at first. I'd pretend to be working on local photography assignments while I went to the casinos. Then I made a huge win at blackjack—more money than your father and I could have earned working in a year. I told everyone I'd quit my job and taken a sabbatical. It was true—I wanted to experiment and expand my creative skills. I thought I could stay away from gambling with that big win. Your father was pleased I could take you along with me, and so was I. But eventually I started gambling again and lost all the money I'd made.”

“What happened? Why the suicide note? Why did you just disappear?”

“I couldn't come home. You need to know what I did the day before.” Margot clasped her hands together tightly. “I took out a new mortgage on our house—the house your father had paid off. I had a ‘sure thing' at the track. And I'd already placed the largest bet I'd ever made. My past winnings, the house, my business, everything… I knew I couldn't lose. But I did.”

“So you just left? And pretended to kill yourself?”

“I had to. I couldn't face either of you with the truth. Your father would've divorced me, and taken you with him. No court would give me custody. But my disappearance…what looked like my death—” Margot's voice broke “—would solve everything. My life insurance, which included suicide
coverage, would save the house. You and your father could have normal lives.”

“Normal?”

“I thought of you and your father every day, Karinne! Whether I came home or not, I'd lose you both. Once your father cashed my life insurance, I couldn't reverse my decision. I'd be convicted of insurance fraud, and he might've been, too. So I stayed away.”

“And just decided to come back now?” Karinne asked.

“I wanted to see you. I subscribe to the local paper. When I saw you were getting married, I had to come home. The statute of limitations has expired. Karinne, when I saw you wearing that pink sweatshirt, I hoped so much. I know I haven't been the world's greatest mother, but if it's not too much to ask…”

“What?” Karinne tried to add
Mom,
but the word felt strange on her tongue.

“Can we start again?”

 

C
ORY HAD JUST
cleared away Karinne's plate when Max and Anita returned to the table.

“Where's Karinne?” Anita asked.

“She went to the cabin.”

“You let her go
alone?
” Max asked.

“She wanted to shower.”

“You should've gone with her!” Max dropped his plate on the table and rushed off.

“Should we go, too?” Anita asked Cory.

“I don't think so. Why don't you finish eating?”

“I'll get a carton for Max's food. Why didn't you go with her, Cory?”

“Because we're surrounded by hundreds of people. Karinne'll be safe here.”

“But…what about this crazy woman?”

“People have been touring the Grand Canyon since the 1880s. We get five million visitors a year. There's never been a single murder.” Cory gestured toward Anita's empty seat with his fork.

Anita cast a nervous glance toward the door. “I guess Max will take care of her.”

“And Karinne needs to take care of Max,” Cory said firmly. “This is the very first time she's ever come to the canyon, to Max's world, for more than a weekend. This visit is long overdue. She shouldn't let some freak distract her.”

“You could say the same about me. I've never been down the river before.”

“No, but you've been to Grand Canyon Village lots of times. Max usually sees Karinne in Phoenix.”

“Max doesn't have an elderly father, either.” Anita replaced her paper napkin on her lap. “Could
you
ever leave here, Cory?”

“If I had to. If our marriage really needed it.”

Anita nodded. “As close as Karinne and I are, she never talks about her mother. Is she dead or not?”

“Margot? I don't know,” Cory said.

“What was she like?” Anita asked curiously.

“Max and I never liked her as kids. Margot Cavanaugh was no gem.” Cory remembered. “If she's back, she wants something. It's not for any hearts-and-flowers reunion at Karinne's wedding.”

 

K
ARINNE LISTENED
again to her mother's request.

“Can you forgive me? I did what I thought was best.”

“I—I can try. Are you coming back to Phoenix?” Karinne asked.

“No.”

“Can we can stay in touch?”

“I'd like that, Karinne. I've never stopped loving you. I can't change the past, but I want to be part of your future. I don't expect a wedding invitation.”

Slowly Karinne said, “I've always wanted you there, Mom. I never stopped missing you.”

The desperate hope on Margot's face would have softened the hardest of hearts. “Are you inviting me?”

“If there's a wedding, yes, you'll be there.”

Margot and Karinne wrapped their arms around each other.

“We have so much to catch up on,” Karinne murmured when they finally broke their embrace.

“Too much,” Margot said. “We'll definitely need coffee.”

“We can go back to the mess hall.”

Margot wiped at her eyes with a tissue. Her mascara came off in black smudges on the tissue.

“Go fix your face, and I'll call Max—let him know where I am.”

Margot smiled and closed the bathroom door. Karinne picked up the phone, then thought,
I wonder what Dad will say.

 

M
AX STARED AT
Deer-15, their empty cabin. He'd searched the room once, then twice, for a note. Although his breathing remained normal, his heart seemed to race a mile a minute. Her pile of soiled clothing lay on the floor. Karinne was a neat, organized person.
What was going on?
He felt like running out and screaming her name, but fought down the urge.

Be sensible,
he told himself.
She's in the gift shop. Or you missed her in the crowd.

Max didn't believe that for a second. His instincts told
him something unusual had happened. But what? He couldn't bear the idea of Karinne being hurt or upset. He loved her. He'd always loved her, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was almost crippling as he considered his plan of action. He was debating whether to wait in the cabin or go back to Cory and Anita when the room phone rang. He snatched it up. “Hello?”

“Max, it's me.”

“Karinne! Where are you?”

At first he couldn't understand the rush of words. Then he did. “Your mother's here?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes. I'm in her cabin.”

“Where?”

“Bear-3.”

“I'm coming over.”

“Love you.”

Max heard the phone disconnect as she hung up. He scribbled a note for Cory and Anita and hurried toward the Bear group of cabins. As he did, he willed his racing heart to slow down. Breaking their engagement hadn't changed his feelings for her. He'd fallen in love with her during her high school graduation, when he'd sat watching with her family and his. He'd been four years older and later tried to convince himself that his fondness for Karinne was a sentimental reaction to the ceremony, but he knew better.

Karinne had left to go to college, and during those four years he'd continued in his role as family friend. Cory, who was closer to Karinne's age and attending the same college, kept him posted on her, and of course Max saw her from time to time. It wasn't until after her college graduation that Karinne had miraculously admitted that she felt the same way he did way back in her high school days, but had been too young and too shy to admit it. They'd grown close, then became lovers, then got engaged. But the engagement had
dragged on and on and on as Karinne established herself in her new career.

By this time Max had his own career, but for Karinne, he'd offered to find something new. Arizona was the land of the great outdoors, and for a man like him, there were always opportunities. Karinne hadn't felt he should leave his job in the Grand Canyon. Now that he employed Cory, it was too late for him to quit without damaging his brother's finances, and now Cory was married.

Max had waited years for Karinne to finish school. Then he'd waited for her to follow her dreams—although he wondered if sports photography was Jeff Cavanaugh's dream pushed onto his daughter instead of Karinne's true dream. Nonetheless, he'd waited. And waited. Max was an all or nothing kind of person. But Karinne seemed content with the small parts of him she had time for, while Max wanted a wife, children, a life. Karinne wanted to live in the past or drift in the present, never planning for a future. It wasn't enough. He couldn't do it anymore. But that didn't mean he could just dismiss her. Just the hint of any risk to her tightened his chest with worry.

He reached the cabin. His knock on the door was loud and brisk. To Max's immense relief, Karinne herself answered.

“That was fast,” she said, glowing. “Come say hello to my mother.”

Max immediately recognized her, not just from memory but her resemblance to Karinne. Despite the age difference, they shared the same body type, the same face. Only where Karinne's mouth was generous and smiling, Margot's thin lips moved nervously.

“Hello, Max,” Margot said with a shy smile. “It's been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.” The old words from the past sprang to his lips. “Welcome back, Mrs. C.”

“It's Margot, please. You've grown tall. And strong.” She extended her hand to Max.

He took it briefly. “I've been rafting.”

“Max, I want to bow out of the rest of the trip,” Karinne said apologetically, with a significant glance toward her mother. “I'd like to stay here alone with Mom.”

He bit back the words.
Over my dead body.

“No, you don't have to do that. You should stick to your original arrangements,” Margot said.

Margot doesn't want to be with her own daughter? After all this time?
He maintained his silence.

“But, Mom, you just got here!” Karinne protested.

“I'll still be here when you get back from rafting, Karinne.”

Karinne's face clearly said,
Will you?

Max sighed. “Perhaps your mother would like to join us tomorrow on the river,” he suggested. There was no way he'd leave Karinne alone with Margot. Max wasn't buying the perfect-mother routine for a second. Where had she been all these years?