The Reluctant Bride

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Authors: Anne Marie Duquette
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starting to seem awfully dull.”
    â€œFrankly, I never thought of you as the guide type, Anita,” Karinne said as the men continued to navigate.
    â€œI think she’d do all right,” Cory said.
    â€œI need a job. Why not join Cory?” Anita asked.
    Karinne stopped bailing. The thought of being with Max around the clock was a heaven impossible to imagine, not with the children Max always said he wanted. Or maybe Cory had a point. Maybe she hadn’t allowed herself to imagine it.
    â€œBefore we hit the rapids in a few minutes, watch the shale and sandstone. It dates back to the Pennsylvanian Period. Here the layers are full of reptile fossils. You should be able to see them.”
    The women nodded, studying the various rocks. The layered rock and cross-bedded formations glistened in the steaming humidity fogging off the walls.
    â€œI can picture this as a primordial mist,” Karinne said. “And dinosaurs are wading around the next bend. Max, can we hike around the fossil beds?”
    â€œFor preservation purposes, it’s not allowed. Sorry,” Max said as Karinne sighed in disappointment. “But the next time we stop, it’ll be for the day. We’ll do the House Rock Rapid, then the Roaring 20s before pitching the tents,” Max said.
    â€œWhat are the Roaring 20s?” Anita asked.
    â€œMile 20.5 through Mile 27 is all rapids,” Max explained, taking in the other watercraft about them. “Hence, the Roaring 20s. We’ll camp around Mile 32. We’ll stop early enough to beat the crowd and get a good campsite.”
    â€œWe have trail bars if you get hungry before then,” Cory offered. “Plus a big dinner and campfire stories afterward.”
    â€œI love ghost stories… How about you, Karinne?” Anita teased.
    Karinne thought of C. C. Spauldings’s “The Toll”—the nameless skeleton in an old photograph—and wondered how the family of the deceased man had lived the rest of their lives without closure, without details. All of a sudden, one pink sweatshirt and a note had put her back in that category.
    â€œI’m not in the mood for ghost stories,” Karinne said honestly. She hadn’t told Anita about the note from the woman claiming to be her mother.
    â€œKarinne?” Max asked. “You okay?”
    She wasn’t. That photo had reminded Karinne of her mother and set off strange dreams. Something about that image—the lost soul, the pathetic skeleton faceup by the side of the water—had upset her, despite her professional interest. It represented the loss of a family member, perhaps someone’s parent. Someone like Margot.
    Suddenly, she didn’t look forward to the evening campfire with her usual enthusiasm. She felt uncharacteristically uneasy, definitely unsettled. Her smile back to Max felt weak in response. She settled herself safely into the raft, checked her life jacket and grabbed at her safety loops.
    â€œI’ll be fine once we get through those rapids.”
    The water current pushed the raft ahead. Max restarted the engine for additional power and began the journey. The men steered through the turbulence, but Karinne couldn’t get into the spirit of the ride.
    Anita’s exhilaration showed. She even cheered, “Faster!” as the large silver pontoon raft behind was catching up to them.
    With its larger engine and heavier weight, the pontoon raft traveled faster through the rapids than the smaller raft,and soon gained on them. Max and Cory also noticed the approach of the pontoon with its dozen passengers.
    â€œThey’re getting awfully close to us!” Cory yelled out, making corrections with his paddle.
    â€œI see them!” Max yelled back.
    â€œWhat do we do?” Anita asked.
    â€œThe bigger boat has the right of way,” Max said. “Don’t worry—we’re fine.”
    Their smaller raft certainly seemed more

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