The Reluctant Bride (12 page)

“No one should go to the dock now,” Karinne argued. “It's too dark.”

“I don't plan on it, unless the water level outside gets too high,” Max said.

“What about calling for the weather forecast? Is the phone still working?” Anita asked.

Cory, closest to the receiver, lifted it up and set it down again. “It's working, but why bother? Listen to the wind! It's blowing the rain sideways.”

“We're getting close to gale-force winds,” Max confirmed. “I saw more trees down last time I was out.”

Jon mumbled in his sleep and turned restlessly. No one spoke again until Jon quieted.

“As long as the trees don't come through this roof, we have food and a dry place to sleep,” Cory said.

“Not much dry wood left, though.” They'd taken turns going out to the shoulder-high stack, and Karinne had gone
last. The overhang on the roof wasn't an effective shelter from the wind. “I had to dig deep into the middle of the stack.”

“We'll keep the coals going and burn it wet,” Max said.

“Can we do that?” Anita asked uneasily.

“Sure, if we stoke it carefully. Even without a fire, we won't freeze,” Cory assured her, then stifled a yawn.

“I'll take the first shift,” Max said.

“I'll keep you company,” Karinne volunteered. She and Cory traded places, Cory resting next to his wife on the bed, Karinne beside Max by the hearth.

The wind continued to howl. At times rain pelted the windows like pebbles. Karinne's ears were aching; the storm echoed with a deeper, hollow bass amplified in the canyon and the one-room cabin. That moaning sound, rather than the contrasting high shrieks of wind or drumming rain, drew out goose bumps on Karinne's arms.

“Now I know why the Anasazi preferred cliff dwellings,” Anita said, her hands over her ears.

“Use the cotton balls in the first aid kit,” Cory suggested.

Cory retrieved some for Anita, and seconds later her ears were stuffed. Cory used some himself, tossed Max the first aid kit, then settled Anita's head on his shoulder.

Max held the kit out to her. “You need some, Karinne?”

Karinne shook her head. “I want to hear the storm.”

“So do I.”

The howling increased as the wind shifted slightly down the canyon. “I don't understand how Jon can sleep through it. Margot, either.”

“The boy seems quite calm under the circumstances. How are you?”

“I think we should call the ranger station for another update,” Karinne said.

“Cory listened to the recording a few minutes ago.” Max sat close, but made no move to swing his arm around her waist as he usually would've done. “There's no new update. The rangers left the station for an emergency. Too bad they couldn't stay sheltered and wait it out.”

Karinne thought of the narrow trail leading to the rim. There were places where even two hikers couldn't walk abreast.

“I wonder when Mom booked a flight back to Mexico,” Karinne murmured. “Or even if she did.”

“I doubt it. I can't see Margot leaving until she gets what she wants. She has a sick son, and she's decided you're his salvation. Do you think she was telling the truth?”

“About that, yes.” Karinne flushed, embarrassed for her mother. “And I thought she really wanted to see me. I even bought her line about wanting to be at our wedding. Which you say isn't going to happen.”

“I wonder if she ever intended to show up, regardless of your invitation.”

“You don't approve of it?”

“First Jeff was your priority. Then Margot. Now Jon. I don't think I've ever been important in your life, Karinne, or you wouldn't keep pushing me aside. In fact, you've never even asked for my advice or opinion during this whole mess. Margot shows up, and I'm shoved into the background. Again. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Karinne gripped the edges of the hearth, the roughness of the rock imprinting itself into her palms. “I said I'd give up my job if you'd give up the idea of having children.”

“You said you'd think about it.”

“I agreed to get Dad professional care.”

“That was your desperate attempt to salvage our
relationship. Just like this trek down the Colorado with you was mine. I'm just the friend next door you've taken for granted ever since your mother disappeared. A security blanket.”

“You never said any of this before, Max.”

“Yes, I did. You just never listened. So I waited. And like I told you, I'm tired of waiting.”

“What would you have me do? Give up my professional dreams? Ignore my family?”

He shook his head. “I never wanted anything from you under duress. I hoped you'd choose to be with me because you wanted to, just like I wanted to be with you.”

“I
do
want to be with you,” Karinne said fiercely.

Max's smile was bitter. “Even though you'd delay the wedding a third time, so Margot can slice you to pieces?
Literally.
”

The wind and the rain still fell into the canyon. Those awake in the cabin weren't surprised when the lights went out. It wasn't until the predawn hours that the wind's heavy gusts lessened, replaced by the steady sound of rain falling. The sputtering fire shone on Max, asleep on the floor. Karinne sat beside him, the flashlight at her side. Cory had brought in the last load of wood, and Karinne was due to bring in the next. She couldn't have slept, anyway, reviewing the conversation she'd had with Max.

“So I should just let the boy die?” Karinne had asked.

“I'm saying don't jump into anything until you've investigated all your options. Most organ donors go through weeks—months—of counseling before reputable hospitals agree to transplants. Margot's been missing for years. We don't even know where she intends to have this transplant done. Here? Mexico? Another galaxy? Who's going to look out for
your
interests? Margot's already shown that it's not
her
first priority.”

You'll let her slice you to pieces…literally.

His words had been said in anger, but they had the ring of truth. Max had thrown her seriously off-kilter. Karinne hadn't been so on edge since her “late” mother's memorial service, not even at Margot's miraculous return. Margot's appearance had chased away the adult Karinne
and resurrected that sad little girl from the past. She felt a child's emotions, a child's confusion. Her whole world churned as violently as the Colorado white waters when she remembered Max's words.

Margot's emotionally blackmailing you.

Of course she was. Karinne could admit it and even understand it. She
didn't
understand why Margot could fight so hard for Jon now, and not Karinne years ago. Margot could have faced her husband, Jeff, and confessed her gambling problem. Nor was Max's part in preventing Margot from spiriting away the young Karinne any excuse. Margot should never have planned to leave, never planned to take Karinne away from her father and her home. Max was right; she shouldn't trust Margot any more than he did.

Margot had two children. Could she really sacrifice one for the other? Her mother's tumultuous reappearance would never change Karinne's feelings for the man she loved—but Jon's condition could change everyone's future….

Max had made some valid points, however. If no one in Stephan's family was a match, why couldn't Jon get a transplant from the anonymous donor list? Surely Mexico's medical protocol took young children into account. Kidney transplants weren't as rare or dangerous as other kinds of transplants. Jon certainly didn't look sick, but if Margot was being honest, how could Karinne condemn a child to death—one who was her own brother?

I feel like running away myself,
Karinne thought. The irony of the situation didn't escape her.
I'm my mother's daughter, after all.

An uncharacteristic wave of hopelessness swept over her. Everyone wanted someone else to make concessions, so they could live happily ever after. Jeff needed Karinne to stay in Phoenix; Max needed to stay in the canyon and
wanted her there; Margot needed Karinne to sacrifice a kidney for her son.

Karinne checked the fire. It was her turn to watch the coals. She'd need more wood, but as she got up, Max rose from his stretched-out position on the floor, and caught her hand.

“We've got enough for now,” he said quietly.

“I assumed you were asleep.”

“Just resting my eyes. I wasn't sleeping.”

Karinne looked out the window. “I wish the sun would come up. I want to go home.”

Max frowned. “I thought you wanted to stay with your mother and brother.”

“I should take them to see my father.”

“I don't think that's a scene Jon needs.” Max gently pulled her down, with a familiar kindness she'd grown to rely on. Karinne sat cross-legged on one half of the quilted nylon, Max on the other.

“I should go back to Phoenix and get to a hospital,” Karinne said slowly. “If I'm a match for Jon, I want to help.”

“That's another scene Jon can skip. I doubt your father's going to approve.”

“The way you don't approve?”

“You've always had a big heart, Karinne. It's one of the things I love about you. I think your desire to save a life, especially the life of a child, is commendable. However, I also think that isn't something that can be decided on the spur of the moment.”

Karinne shook her head. “Yet you decided the wedding was off on the spur of the moment. We could still have gone through with it. At the worst, we could have delayed it.”

“Delayed it? How long? Until this thing with Jon is settled? Until you work out your feelings for your mother? Until we're both old and gray and too old to have children?”

“I meant postpone the wedding for a few months,” Karinne said before she lost her nerve. “A few more if Jon and I are a match, and I have surgery. And then I'd have to recover—and get reacquainted with Mom.”

Max's voice grew harsh. “Sounds less like months and more like years.”

“There's still my dad's health to consider,” Karinne said.

“We'll just add a decade or two onto the final total. You don't want to get married at all, Karinne. Why not have the guts to admit it?”

“I'm not staying that! I love you, and I know you love me. But my father needs me. So do Jon and my mother.”

“So we wait until everyone's given a clean bill of health?”

“Yes. Is that asking too much?”

“Your father's elderly. He's not going to get younger. Forgive my bluntness, but death is the only cure for old age.”

Karinne gasped.

“As for your brother, health and happiness may not be just around the corner, either. What if you're not donor material?”

“Max,” she said, “y
ou're
the one who doesn't want to go through with the wedding. But you're accusing me of that.”

“Why would I want a marriage that exists in name only? Where we maintain the status quo in separate towns? That's not what a marriage should be. It hardly fits the definition of family.”

“I care about my family!”

“Do they care just as much about you?” Max asked sharply. “Have you asked Margot exactly
when
Jon needs a kidney? He couldn't be here if he needed it immediately
and was on the waiting list. You'd delay our wedding again and you don't even know the time frame. Margot hasn't mentioned a word about it to me. You?”

“Well…I just figured…the sooner the better.”

“I doubt she's even put him on the list.” He sighed. “You want to save Jon? Fine, save him, but don't wait for your sacrifice to make Margot love you. You wanna be a donor? Make sure you're not Margot's easiest way out.”

“That can't be true.” Karinne felt sick to her stomach. “Mom would've made sure he was on the list, I'm positive.”

“How do you know? Did you
ask
her? No. Did Margot volunteer the information? No, again. Why do you think I hired a detective? There may be other, more timely matches for Jon on the donor list. She's risking your health…yes. But she's also risking Jon's by bringing him all the way here from Mexico. Can't you see, Karinne? Once again Margot's putting herself instead of her child first. I never trusted her when I was a boy, and I don't trust her now. Be careful before you play the hero.”

“I see. Only you can play that role, like saving me from being used by my evil mother. Or holding my hand when I'm acting stupid.”

“The one without your ring?” Max picked up her hand and dropped it. “Don't think I haven't noticed. And I'm not the one being a hero, Karinne. You won't leave your father, which makes it easy for him to stay alone in that big house instead of swallowing his pride, showing how unselfishly he could love his daughter and moving into an assisted care facility. You have all these people to save—except yourself. I can admire your loyalty, Karinne. Except it seems that your loyalty to me, our relationship as a couple, is the price we're paying.”

The fire popped and abruptly settled, the main log
breaking and sending sparks flying. Karinne stood awkwardly. Max remained seated.

“We need more wood,” she said.

Karinne stepped away and lifted her jacket from on top of her backpack. She shrugged it on and hurried to the door as his voice rang out in one last sentence.

“Running away won't solve anything.” Max watched Karinne close the door.

 

“G
O AFTER HER
,” Cory ordered.

“She's getting firewood,” Max said, his voice dull. “She doesn't need me for that.”

“What you did was stupid, Max!” Margot spoke from where she lay on the bed.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he said.

“I was listening. You can't ask Karinne to choose between her family and you.”

“He never has,” Cory spat out. “It's bad enough that Jeff refuses to take care of himself. Now you and Jon want a piece of Karinne. She can spend the rest of her life lonely and miserable, just like she spent her childhood. Is that what you want, Margot? Go after her, Max!”

“Just tell her things will be okay, and you'll give her time,” Margot suggested. “You
always
take the easy way, Margot. You're doing it now. I hope you treat your son better!” Cory said.

“Lower your voice. You'll wake him! And I'm doing my best for my son,” Margot hissed.

“By using Karinne as a donor?” Max asked.

“I can't help Jon myself,” Margot said to Cory. “I'm not a match.”

“Is Jon on the waiting list for a kidney? Did you give him a chance to be saved by someone else?” Max asked.

Margot didn't say anything.

“I have my answer,” he said.

“Figures.” Cory's voice was filled with disgust. “You're a gambler, Mrs. C. You prefer to make your own luck. Why wait for some random donor when you can stack the deck with Karinne? You don't care whose life you wreck.”

“I care more than your brother did when I went to talk to my daughter for the last time. He wouldn't even let me see her.”

“That was years ago. You didn't have to leave, and Max did what had to be done,” Cory said harshly. “I wish you'd never come here.”

“Cory!” By now Anita was awake.

“You and Jeff were lousy parents! We knew it then, and we were just
kids
. The two of you are still bad parents.”

“Cory, enough!” Max ordered. “All of you…
where's Jon?
”

Everyone looked around.

“Someone check the bathroom.”

Cory slammed open the door of the bathroom and emerged, his face worried. “He's not in there, Max.”

Max and Cory scrambled for flashlights.

“Anita?” Cory asked. “Did you see him leave?”

Anita shook her head. “I wasn't paying attention.”

“Oh, my God, he must've heard us,” Margot whispered as Max shone the light under the bunks and into the kitchen. “Where did he go?”

“Where younger brothers always go for help,” Cory said, catching his brother's gaze. “Their older sibling.”

Anita stared at Cory. “Karinne?”

“Who else? She went out to get wood. Jon must have followed after overhearing our conversation.”

As Max silently pulled on his boots, Margot began to cry.

Cabin Fox-5

O
UTSIDE, VISIBILITY
lightened just enough for Karinne to make it to the woodpile without a flashlight, but not enough to pierce the misting rain and dark shadows down in the canyon walls. The remaining scraps of wood at the bottom of their cabin's pile had sunk into the soft mud, making them totally useless. Max had already brought in the last of the wood at Deer-15, their own cabin. The search for new fireplace fuel would give her an excuse for a temporary escape.

Karinne kept hearing Max's words over and over in her head. Margot had sacrificed Karinne's childhood for selfish reasons. Now Margot wanted to sacrifice her for Jon. She continued to hike, her mind racing as she trudged along the mucky trail among the widely spaced lodgings, past the empty woodpiles of the Bear and Cougar cabins and toward the Deer and Elk areas.

By the time she finally reached Fox-5's cabin and porch, Karinne was shivering. Despite her jacket, she felt cold, her boots muddy and socks soggy. She vaguely knew she had to stop, warm up and, most of all, calm down before starting back with an armload of wood. She knocked on the cabin door, not wanting to intrude or steal wood. When there was no response, she tried opening it. The place was locked and empty, just like all the others. She wondered if the majority of campers had had enough warning to make it to the canyon rim before the storm hit, although a few cabins still seemed to be occupied.

Where is everyone?

She felt like the lone survivor on a deserted island. Karinne unsuccessfully tried the front windows, but had more luck with a side window. She popped out the screen and crawled in. The sheltered air of the cabin felt stale and
almost as cold inside as out. The dry, seasoned wood piled beside the hearth should have made her feel a little better, but didn't. She didn't even have the ambition to start a fire. She sat on the rock hearth, dripping wet.

Karinne lifted the phone—astonished at getting an actual signal. She found Margot's cabin number on the phone sheet posted. Karinne remembered those awful days when she'd waited and waited for a phone call as a child, a call saying Margot was safe. The call that never came.

I'm not her. I'll let everyone know I'm okay.

The phone rang twice before Anita picked up. “Karinne?”

“Anita? It's me,” Karinne said immediately.

“Where are you?” Anita asked. “Fox-5.”