The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance Katherine Logan (no david read aloud TXT) 📖

I don’t want to look out the window. I want to get in and get out. And I don’t care about the Silk Road or the landscapes.

Gangchu pulled up in front of a hotel that faced the sheer, rocky cliffs surrounding Tiger’s Nest. “This hotel was built in the classic Bhutanese style with tapered stone walls and fine, hand-painted façade details. The main building and the three-story cottages hold their own against the soaring peaks.”

I don’t care. It’s a damn hotel.

“It’s beautiful,” Meredith breathed.

Of course, it is. It’s a five-star palace.

“I’ll arrange for the bellhop to take the bags, and we can leave immediately,” Gangchu walked toward the front door and met the bellhop coming out. They chatted a minute, then came back to the van for the bags.

“Your bags will be waiting at the front desk, Dr. Fraser,” Gangchu said as he climbed back into the driver’s seat.

“Do you have any dining advice?” Austin asked.

Damn it. Let’s get this done in silence. Can we?

“Avoid the Indian menu,” Gangchu said, pulling the van back out to the road. “An unidentifiable brown sauce pervades every Indian meal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Austin said.

“Where can I get a massage?” Ensley asked.

Lass, I’m coming close to kicking ye out of the van.

“The hotel offers the traditional outdoor hot-stone bath, and the therapists blend Swedish and Thai kneading techniques to work out the kinks. They’re used to working on mountain climbers.”

“How far to the car park?” Austin asked.

“Ten miles,” Gangchu said. “The car park is at the bottom of the mountain, where the hike begins. You cannot drive or take a cable car. You have to trek for several hours on foot or horseback. The trek is not extremely difficult, but it’s not easy, either. You need to be relatively fit to get there. And the oxygen gets thinner at the higher altitude.”

Elliott had already caught glimpses of the monastery from the city. It was so high up that it looked from the ground like white dots.

Gangchu looked at Ensley through the rearview mirror. “Do you want to hear my spiel about the hike and the monastery?”

“Sure,” Ensley said.

God, Ensley. Stop it. We’re not tourists.

“The monastery sits three thousand meters above the Paro valley,” Gangchu began. “It was built in the late 17th century on the site of a cave set into the cliff. It’s called Tiger’s Nest Monastery in English, but Taktsang more accurately translates to ‘tigress’s lair.’

“According to the legend,” he continued, “in the eighth century, a disciple carried a Buddhist master up the mountain on her back. The process transformed her into a tigress. Once they arrived, the master spent three years, three months, three days, and three hours meditating in the cave. After the master finished, it became a holy place known as Paro Taktsang.”

“How long does it take to get up there? Two or three hours?” Austin asked.

Not ye, too, lad.

“It depends on your physical condition.” Gangchu looked at Austin in the rearview mirror. “Two or three hours for you and the gentlemen in the back. The rest will take five to seven hours, plus a couple of hours to tour the monastery, or extra time if you want to stop at the café going up or coming down.”

“Dad, you don’t have to go,” James Cullen said. “You’re in good condition, but it’s a difficult hike.”

“I’ll be fine, James Cullen.”

I just want everybody to shut the hell up.

Gangchu pulled into the parking lot. “The vendors sell crafts and walking sticks, and the horses I’ve reserved are over there,” he said, pointing.

“If those are horses, I’ll eat a day’s worth of hay,” Austin said quietly.

“They will only take you about two-thirds of the way up. Once you clear the trees surrounding this parking lot, you will get your first glimpse of Tiger’s Nest, hanging on a precarious cliff.”

I’ve already had a glimpse. And if I had a choice, I’d wait right here.

“You’re not going?” Meredith asked.

“No, I will wait here to take you back to the hotel. You won’t need me on the trail. It only goes to the monastery.” Gangchu parked the van, and they all piled out.

“I’ll go buy walking sticks for everyone,” Austin said.

“Paul and I are going on ahead,” James Cullen said. “If we don’t see you on the trail, we’ll meet you at the monastery.”

Elliott wanted to stand at the trailhead and block James Cullen, but he couldn’t do it. He caught Paul’s eye, and Paul gave him a nod, then the two of them took off toward the path.

I’m counting on ye, Paul. Don’t let me down.

“He sounds the same, but he’s so different,” Ensley said to Elliott.

“What?” Elliott asked.

“He’s different from when he left me at Elkhorn Ranch. The light’s gone from his eyes, and he seems driven or singularly focused, I guess. Something is pulling on him.”

“I wish I knew what it was.”

They followed Gangchu to a clearing where the horses were grazing. Only they weren’t horses. They were mules. A handler matched each of them to a suitable mule based on height and weight. They shook their heads at Austin and put him on the biggest one they had, but his legs were still almost dragging on the ground.

“The horses are well-disciplined and focus on the road ahead,” Gangchu said.

“And they don’t stop to graze on the bushes along the trail. You’ll stop about a third of the way up for the horses to rest, and you can pop into the Taktsang Cafeteria for tea and biscuits. The trail is quite wide and can easily accommodate two horses side by side, but they tend to walk close to the edge of the cliffs.”

“Okay, that does it. I’m walking,” Austin said. “Heights don’t bother me unless I believe there’s a good chance I might fall off a cliff.”

“Just don’t look down,” Ensley said. “Didn’t you ever ride the mules to the bottom of the Grand Canyon?”

“No!” Austin said.

“Come on,” Meredith said. “Look at it as an adventure.”

Ensley cracked up.