Free Country by Danielle Steel Page A

day. She wasn’t up to an all-day hike in the hot sun, down to the canyon floor and back up again anyway. She just wanted to be there and soak up the magical atmosphere of a place she had wanted to see for most of her life. She had an innate sense that something she was about to see and feel there would make an important difference to her, and help her find peace, which she had needed desperately, and she was ready for it now. She changed into a pair of running shoes she had brought with her, and she was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, which she had changed into before she left Las Vegas, figuring she’d be too hot in jeans. And she took a water bottle with her, feeling as though she were on an important mission of some kind. She knew to the very depths of her soul that she was meant to be there. And she lined up at an information desk to ask about the shorter hikes. She could come back the next day for an all-day hike, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that, and she was thinking about driving back to San Francisco that night. She liked driving at night. She could stop at a motel on the way if she got too tired.
    The ranger at the information desk handed her some pamphlets in answer to her question, and her inquiry didn’t seem unusual to him. Many people with younger children, or older members of the group weren’t up to the rigorous hikes to the canyon floor, and only wanted to walk for a few hours. He suggested Bright Angel Trail to her, which he said would work, allow her to appreciate the canyon’s beauty from several stopping points, and have her back up at the top in slightly less than three hours, which sounded perfect to her. He said the paths were clearly marked, and reminded her to take several bottles of water, and to wear sunscreen and a hat. He said it was a walk for which you didn’t need a guide, and he told her that while it was a healthy hike, it wasn’t overly arduous, and looking at her, he could tell that it would be easy for her. She thanked him, and taking the pamphlets with her, with more general information about the canyon, she walked back outside, and got in her car to drive three miles to the head of the trail, and parked. When she got to it, the trail was narrow, and wider in spots, with benches to rest. At one of the railings, she stood gazing at the breathtaking beauty of the canyon she had wanted to see all her life. She was in no hurry and began at a leisurely pace, and as he had said she would, she found it an easy hike.
    She passed several small groups of people along the way, one of older people, another with children who were about ten or twelve years old. There was a group of young women who were talking and laughing and smiled at her as she went by, but for long stretches, she found herself alone on the path, enjoying the silence and the sounds of birds and insects, and the peace of nature all around her, always with the majesty of the Grand Canyon just within sight. It was the most beautiful spectacle she had ever seen. She stopped to sit on a bench once, to drink some water, and just enjoy the view. Then she continued walking, and the path got steeper as she went farther down. The ranger had told her at what point to turn back if she wanted to keep the hike to three hours. And when she reached the farthest point of the hike she was on, she wasn’t winded and sat down on another bench to just revel in the view.
    She was tempted to keep going, but she knew it would get even steeper after that, and would get her back to the top too late. Hikers who were returning to the top, and not booked for campsites at the bottom, were encouraged to be back before dark. If not, they were likely to run into problems and encounter risks that the rangers strongly urged them to avoid. And Stephanie planned to follow his advice. She was just sitting there, enjoying the view, with tears in her eyes, wishing she would never have to leave, and so grateful she had come. She was thinking about Bill,