***
At exactly eight o’clock the next morning, the doorbell rang. When Marsha opened the door, Lindy rushed out, wagging her stubby tail at Ben as he reached down to fondle her soft ears. Marsha smiled. It certainly didn’t take him long to win her over.
“Good morning,” she said, almost shyly.
“Hello, sunshine. Are you ready for breakfast? I thought we could eat at that place just down the highway with the big deck.”
“That sounds terrific.”
The restaurant was crowded, but they were able to get a table on the deck. As they were seated, Marsha gave a little laugh. “Did you read the tee-shirt the girl at the front table was wearing?”
“I didn’t notice. What did it say?”
“Dizzy blond. Blame the vortexes.”
He laughed. “That’s pretty good.” He gestured toward the rock formations forming a backdrop for the town. The soaring wall of bright red rocks stretched toward the brilliant blue sky. Wind and time had carved the rocks into fantastic shapes, the broken edges of the rock like ramparts on a sandcastle. “That is an incredible view.”
Marsha named the formations, pointing. “That’s Chimney Rock, then Capitol Butte, and Coffee Pot Rock.”
“I can see how it got its name. It looks exactly like my mother’s old percolator. It was obviously named before the days of drip coffee machines.”
Marsha laughed.
Ben looked overhead. “Not a single cloud in the bluebird sky. Does it ever rain here?”
“Of course. Sometimes it rains so hard you have to stop your car and wait because you can’t see to drive. We had a thunderstorm day before yesterday.”
The waiter brought them coffee and took their orders.
“How did you happen to wind up in Sedona, anyway?” Ben asked.
“I grew up in Tucson, but I always loved visiting here, so when I saw the job opening posted I couldn’t resist. I thought I might stay for a couple of years and then move on, maybe even out-of-state, but my first day on the job I met Eric, and the rest is history.”
“He didn’t want to try different places?”
“No, he grew up here, and his family is here. I didn’t mind. I love Sedona.”
“I can see why, although you have to admit, Sedona’s a little weird.”
“Ah yes, but the weirdness is the best part.”
After breakfast, Ben drove them to an ATV rental store. “According to my research, we can drive the ATV to an Indian ruin of some sort.”
“Yeah, it’s really good. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Oh, if you’ve already seen it, we could do something else.”
“I haven’t been in years. I’d enjoy visiting it with you.”
After signing all the forms stating that if they did something stupid it wasn’t the rental store’s fault, Ben and Marsha received a short lesson in operating the two-passenger vehicle. The ATV was street legal, so they were allowed to drive within Sedona as well as on the jeep trails. Soon they were bumping down the street, Ben driving and Marsha navigating. They turned right and continued uphill. The wind swirled across the little car, whipping their hair and making Marsha laugh. They turned off the paved road onto a rutted lane and rumbled along. Before long, they were near the ruins.
“Now it’s just a short hike.” Marsha led the way to the cliff dwellings.
The Sinagua people had established this settlement in the twelfth century. Cliff caves formed when the softer red sandstone on the lower areas of the cliff eroded away, leaving the harder layers of rock above jutting out to form a sheltered indention. The early builders had taken advantage of these natural apartments, enclosing them with walls to create a series of rooms. Large sections of these walls, many six feet tall or more, were still standing. Ben examined the stones that the industrious people had used to construct the walls of their homes.
“I have to admire their craftsmanship,” he said. “With nothing but mud, rocks, and manpower, they managed to build quite a cozy little home that has stood for centuries, and it will still be standing long after my house has collapsed and gone.”
“It is impressive,” Marsha agreed. “They had store rooms and cooking areas and sleeping platforms, not to mention art.” She pointed to a petroglyph depicting a human figure gazing up at what appeared to be a full moon.
“They must have had outstanding home economics teachers.”
Marsha laughed. “No doubt.”
They were walking along the path when Marsha stopped and knelt down. “Look at this tiny flower growing out of the split in the rock. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Beautiful. Let me take a picture of the two of you together.”
She laughed up at him while he snapped a photo on his cell phone, and then they walked back to the ATV.
“Would you like to drive?” he asked.
“Okay. It looks like fun.” It was fun. Marsha enjoyed the feel of the wind as she piloted the little vehicle down the rough road. Ben laughed as she tried to coax a little extra speed out of the engine. As they came to a small rise, he leaned toward her to say something, but his words were lost in the wind. They went over the rise and landed in a huge puddle, spraying mud everywhere.
Marsha squealed, and then drove slowly forward until they were out of the puddle before stopping. She turned to Ben, “What were you saying?”
“I said there’s a puddle ahead.”
“Good to know.” They both began to laugh. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a red bandana. He poured a little water from his water bottle on the cloth and reached over to wipe her face.
“Darlin’, you are a sight.”
She looked at his teeth flashing white in his mud-covered face. “You’re quite a treat yourself.”
Eventually, they were able to get the worst of the mud cleaned from their faces and the windshield of the ATV.
“Maybe you’d better drive now,” Marsha said.
“You go ahead. What’s the worst that could happen? You land in a puddle and we get muddier?” Ben smiled.
She looked down at their clothes, laughing as she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Ben wiped the mud from the face of his watch. “It’s after one. I was going to suggest we stop for lunch, but I don’t think we’d be allowed in any self-respecting establishment looking like this. I guess we should go back.”
Marsha hated for the fun to end. “I know a drive-through that makes a great chicken salad sandwich. We could have a picnic.”
Ben’s grin confirmed he was in no hurry to finish either. “I’m in. Drive on, James.”
The look on the face of the drive-in employee was priceless. Marsha could only imagine his surprise when he saw, instead of the expected car, a filthy ATV along with two mud-covered people who were certainly old enough to know better. Fortunately, Ben’s wallet was relatively dry, and his money was spendable.
Marsha drove to a secluded spot where they had a panoramic view of the surrounding rock formations. Ben climbed out of his seat, stretching and looking around. He breathed in the clean smell of desert shrubs. “What a beautiful spot. It sure pays to have a local guide.”
Marsha smirked. “Yeah, an expert like me to keep you clean and dry.”
They sat on a flat rock and shared the picnic, laughing and talking. After examining the laminated map provided by the rental store, they decided their next adventure would be Schnebly Hill.
They climbed the hill, new views appearing around each bend. They stopped often to gawk. Everywhere they looked, spires of red rock rose to the sky. A layer of harder white rock bisected the twisted red sandstone. Silvery green desert foliage carpeted the feet of the crenellated formations. Marsha pointed out a hanging rock on a distant column, looking as though the slightest breath of wind would send it tumbling.
Ben snapped photos from his phone, but Marsha refused to pose in her current mud-covered state.
“Come on, sunshine. We need proof that we
were here today.” Eventually, she agreed and Ben moved close to her, holding his phone at arm’s length and snapping a picture of the two of them with the distinctive red rocks behind.
He turned to look out over the valley. “You know this was once a seabed. The lowest red layer is limestone, formed from shells. It wouldn’t have been red originally, but later water deposited iron oxide over it, and that’s why it’s called the Redwall limestone. The next layer is the Hermit formation, then two more layers of red sandstone. The white layer is the Kaibab limestone.”
Marsha looked at him, impressed. “How do you know all this?”
“Sedona is a playground for geologists like me. The canyon walls expose millions of years of earth history in one spot. I could stare at these rocks all day.” He smiled. “I have a farmer friend, though, who hates canyons. He says he just can’t stand to look at all that erosion.”
“I guess it’s all about your point of view.”
Ben nodded. “Most things are.”
Long before they were ready for the ride to end, it was time to head down the hill and return the ATV. Marsha explained about the mud, but the rental employee waived away her apology.
“No problem. It happens all the time.”
He even gave them a couple of garbage bags to protect the seats of Ben’s car. Once they were in the car, Ben turned to Marsha.
“Well, I intended to take you shopping downtown, I mean uptown, but I suppose our first order of business should be a shower. What do you say I drop you off at home and pick you up in an hour or so? According to my Sedona guide, we can’t miss sunset from Airport Mesa. Then we can go to dinner.”
“That sounds great, and driving through the mud with you was a million times more fun than shopping. Bring your muddy clothes when you come, and I’ll wash them for you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s no trouble. I have to wash mine anyway.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Marsha took her shower and changed into a skirt and sweater. She couldn’t recreate the makeup and hair effects Rebecca had managed, but she did her best. Ben arrived right on time and she threw their muddy clothes in the washer together before they left.
Ben drove up the winding road to Airport Mesa and parked in the lot. He took her hand and they followed the other sightseers toward the overlook. They found a good viewing spot on the edge of the crowd while the sun was still a few degrees above the rim.
“Why were all those cars parked halfway up the hill?” Ben asked. “I can’t think the sunset view would match the one from the top.”
“That’s a trailhead and a vortex site. It’s very popular.”
“I see. So what is your take on this vortex phenomenon?”
Marsha looked toward the people below, scattered over the flat surface of a large rock. “I think it’s people trying to come up with a pseudo-scientific way of explaining simple emotions. All the supposed vortex sites are places of special beauty. When you stand or sit in those places and really give yourself time to absorb the peace and splendor of that spot, of course you experience something special. I think vortex is just another name for joy.”
Ben looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re a joyful kind of person, aren’t you?”
Marsha raised her eyebrows. “Actually, I’ve been more of a mournful kind of person lately.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve been grieving. What I mean is some people are natural critics; they find fault with everything. You’re just the opposite. You see the good things; the humor in life, the beauty in tiny wildflowers, the joy in your surroundings.”
She paused to think about that. “Maybe so. I think that’s why I liked teaching home economics. I enjoy making food into a delicious meal, or a house into a home, and I like to share those skills.”
“I’ll bet you were a great teacher.”
“I don’t know. I hope I made a difference.”
“I can almost guarantee it. There are probably hundreds of families enjoying a tasty dinner tonight because of you.”
She laughed. “That’s a nice thought.”
The sun began to dip behind the horizon, pulling its warmth away from the town below and instead focusing its full intensity on the tall rock formations. The red of the sandstone contrasted even more strongly with the shadows below. A single, wispy cloud mirrored the red-orange of the rocks as the sky changed from blue to plum. Ben squeezed her hand as the last trace of sun disappeared for the night. She smiled up at him. They ambled back to the car, paying little attention to the crowd swirling around them.
“Do you like sushi? I found a place that’s highly recommended.”
“I do. I haven’t had sushi in forever. What a good idea.”
The restaurant was an attractive building overlooking a small Japanese walled garden. It was crowded. Ben approached the host. “Table for two, please.”
“Do you have a reservation?”
“Sorry, no.”
“I can have a table for you in about thirty minutes.”
Ben looked at Marsha and shrugged. “I’m in no hurry. What do you think?”
“Fine with me.”
The host gave them a buzzer and they went outside to wait in the garden. They sat together on a simple bench beside the koi pond. A small weeping maple fluttered above them. A few low-voltage lanterns illuminated the garden, giving their faces a subtle glow.
Marsha gave a contented sigh. “This was such a fun day. Have you been to Sedona before?”
Ben nodded. “During that time I lived in Arizona, I came up here for weekends a couple of times. I’ve always liked it.”
“Where else did you live?”
“Oh, I grew up on a ranch in eastern New Mexico. I lived in Austin and Boston for school, and Dallas for most of my adult life. I’ve worked in Wyoming and Minnesota and Pennsylvania.”
“I have trouble picturing you in Boston.”
“I was there for grad school, just for a couple of years.”
“Harvard?”
Ben looked down at the pond. “Yeah.”
“You got your master’s in geology from Harvard?”
He shook his head. “No it was business.”
“You have a Harvard MBA?” It amused her that he seemed almost embarrassed about it.
He nodded. “How about you? Where did you go to college?”
“Nothing so illustrious. I have my bachelor’s in home economics, and master’s in teaching from University of Arizona.”
Ben’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, look at us. Two highly educated professionals and neither of us thought to make a dinner reservation.”
They enjoyed their dinner, sampling off one another’s plates and speculating about some of the other diners. “I think that couple in the corner is on their honeymoon,” Marsha whispered. “She keeps smiling at him and then looking down at her rings.”
Ben nodded. “Plus, he hasn’t even noticed the cute waitress that’s refilling his water glass.”
Marsha laughed. “I see that you’ve noticed.”
Ben winked. “I’m more interested in the cute chick across the table from me.”
Their laughter continued on the drive home. Ben opened her car door, and they drifted along the path to her front porch. She looked up at him, their faces illuminated by the porch light.
“I had a wonderful day. Thank you, Ben.”
“Me too.” A little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Marsha, I’ve never dated anyone like you. I’d like to kiss you now, but I don’t know the rules. Is it too early?”
She began to laugh. He grinned back at her.
“What?”
“I thought I was the only one who didn’t know the rules. If neither of us know, how will we manage?”
He shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to make up our own rules. This one is your call. May I kiss you?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Yes, you may.”
He reached out t
o touch her cheek, a small smile on his lips as he studied her face for a moment. Then, as he leaned down, she found her hand reaching for him, to stroke his hair and guide him to her mouth. The kiss was sweet, soft and warm. It was a tender kiss, but there was a promise there, a suggestion of heat simmering under the surface.
He took his time, softly caressing her lips with his own, and when he finished he slid his arms around her and nestled her against his chest, his hand tracing small circles on her back. It felt so good to be in the arms of a man. This sense of warmth and safety, of being exactly where she belonged – she had missed it so.
She realized after a moment that it was an illusion. Ben was just stopping through. She didn’t belong in his arms any more than she belonged in his shiny Cadillac. Still, it felt right for the moment, and tonight that was enough. She tilted her head back to look up at him and he smiled at her.
“Do you have plans in the morning?” he asked.
“I usually go to church on Sundays.”
“May I join you?”
Marsha raised her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a church-goer.”
Ben shrugged. “It’s been a while, but growing up, my mother made sure I was in that pew every week, even if she had to drag me there by the ear. She still does if I happen to be visiting her on a Sunday. Maybe it’s time to get back into the habit.” He looked at her, cocking his head. “It’s up to you. I won’t come if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Marsha thought of the gossip that would spread like wildfire if she showed up at church with a tall, handsome stranger. She laughed. “I would be honored. Will you meet me here about ten forty-five?”
“I’ll be here.” He kissed her gently on the top of the head. “Goodnight, Marsha.”
Detour on Route 66 (Choices: Story Five) Page 3
