She was happy, and that was enough.
It didn’t matter that she didn’t know what the future held. No one did, really. They thought they did, but so much was out of your control. If her grandmother hadn’t died, Martha might have finished her degree but then she would have been on a different track and who was to say that would have been happy? For a start she wouldn’t have met Kathleen. If she hadn’t needed to get away from her family and Steven so badly there was no way she would have taken a driving job, and no way she’d be sitting here now on the mighty Colorado River with the walls of the Grand Canyon rising up all around her, alongside a man who made her heart race. Basically, there wasn’t a single thing about the past she’d change, except perhaps finding a way to make people you loved live forever. But all anyone really had was right now, and she was determined to make the most of right now. And no doubt her family would disapprove of her current choices, but if there was one thing she’d learned on this trip it was that the only opinion that mattered was your own.
She lifted her face to the sun and smiled, feeling good about life for the first time in ages. About herself.
“I hope you’re still smiling when you’re submerged by icy river water.” Josh tugged her closer. “The average temperature of the Colorado River at this time of year is—”
“Don’t tell me! I’ll find out for myself, no doubt.”
But she loved his sense of humor, and the way he could recite facts from memory.
“I’m starting to appreciate the task your brother faced. This, my friend—” she grabbed the front of his life jacket and tugged him against her “—is going to be the adventure of your life. Don’t panic. Our guide is skilled in river rescue and swift water rescue. This is going to do you good. You’re going to love it.”
“You sound exactly like Red.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she sneaked her hand into his and felt his fingers tighten around hers.
“It’s been two years and I still hear his voice all the time,” Josh said. “I hear him telling me to get outdoors, to stop reading facts, to eat my pizza crusts and stop leaving broccoli at the side of my plate.”
“You leave broccoli at the side of your plate? You don’t eat your veggies? Shocking. I’m with Red on that one.”
“It seems you’re pretty much with Red on everything.” But judging from his tone of voice, he didn’t mind about that. She wondered whether he even quite liked it.
“I still hear my grandmother too, although only when I’m on my own, weirdly enough.” And she realized that the voice of the only person whose life advice she should have taken was drowned out when she was with other people. Her mother. Her sister. Steven. She’d been listening to the wrong voices.
“What would your grandmother have thought of this?”
“The trip, or you?” She saw his eyes crease as he smiled. “She would have said a big yes to both.” She gasped as the water drenched her, leaving her soaked and laughing. “That’s cold!”
She clung to Josh and he muttered something she couldn’t make out but assumed it wasn’t complimentary, but even he cracked a smile as their guide expertly navigated the rapids.
Later they ate lunch on the banks of the river, devouring delicious sandwiches and homemade cookies.
Martha slipped one into her pocket for Kathleen.
Her hair had dried curly, her face was burning under the hot Arizona sun and she’d never felt happier.
By the time they finally returned to the hotel the sun was setting.
Kathleen left a message that she’d ordered room service and was having an early night, so they ordered pizza and Josh left the crust while Martha ate hers.
Then they found a place where they had a view of the Grand Canyon and watched the sun go down.
“This is the kind of view that makes you think about life. About how small you are, compared to the world. And how all those little things that seem so huge, aren’t really huge at all.” Martha stood close to him and he slipped his arm round her shoulders.
“Thank you for today. And that’s not sarcasm.” His voice was soft. “Seriously, thank you. I’m pleased we did it. He would have been pleased.”
Martha leaned her head on his shoulder. “You would have had fun doing this together.”
He pulled her closer. “He would have liked you.”
Warmth rushed through her. “I wish I’d met him.”
“He would have flirted with you and pointed out that he was way more interesting than me.”
She looked up at him and her heart beat faster because she was absolutely sure she wouldn’t have found his brother more interesting than him. “I’m sure I would. We would have laughed together, and he wouldn’t have bored me with facts or left his pizza crusts. We would have bonded over broccoli.”
He stroked her shoulder. “My brother used to tease me for always planning ahead. He always missed flights because he could never get himself to the airport on time. One year he was a day late to Thanksgiving because he’d left the travel to chance. ‘Just catch the wave’, he used to say.”
The setting sun turned the rocks burnt orange and the sky fiery red.
She turned and slid her arms round his neck. “Is that what we’re doing? Catching the wave?”
“Maybe.” He slid his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. “What do you think? Are you going to catch this wave, Martha?”
“Yes.” It came out as a whisper. “To get my confidence back, you understand.”
“Sure. What other reason would there be?” His mouth was so close to hers they were almost kissing, but not quite.
The suspense of that almost kiss, the burning anticipation, was more erotic than any actual kiss she’d experienced.
He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “My room or yours?”
“Which is closest?”
“Yours. But that’s next door to Kathleen.”
“Good point. My room. In case she comes looking for me in the night.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That would make for an interesting conversation.”
He kissed her briefly, a heated hint of things to come and then he grabbed her hand and they virtually sprinted back to her room. She could taste the urgency in the air and feel it in the tightness of his grip. She wanted him with a desperation that crossed the borders of decency.
Desperation made her clumsy, and when they finally reached the door she fumbled with the lock and dropped the key. “I hate keys. I can’t—”