The Reluctant Bride. Anne Duquette Marie

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ