“Only a world-renowned photographer, who photographs for national and international magazines. She rarely does workshops, and when she does, they’re usually in places like Bangkok or Kenya, places I probably would never go. This is a great opportunity.”

“You’re a professional. Aren’t you advanced for a workshop?” Grace asked.

“I’d think by now you’d be giving workshops,” Hannah said.

“It’s for advanced photographers. But there’s more to it. It’ll give Miriam, Sadie, and me a chance to do a family thing.”

“So, when do you leave?” Grace asked.

“In ten days.”

“It’s a wonderful idea, Amelia. You’ll have a great time,” Grace said. “I’m glad Miriam and Sadie are going.”

The sign read Santa Fe City Limits. Miriam slowed the rented car and sighed with relief. The winding drive up the mountain was finally over. What surprised Miriam was that she actually liked this high, wind-blown desert environment. The endless vistas and the deep blue sky thrilled her.

Following directions provided by Martha Dinsk, they drove past adobe houses that sat behind thick, sand-colored walls, until they came to their hotel on a main thoroughfare.

Built in traditional adobe style, the lobby of the hotel boasted low wooden beams, soft leather chairs and sofas, and oval fireplaces, which fascinated Sadie, who stood before one huge fireplace with her mouth agape.

Their room’s comfortable leather chairs, tall Hopi poly-chrome-pot lamps, and Ganado red, black, and gray rugs charmed them. Amelia relaxed and rested. For the first time that day, Miriam relaxed, but not for long. At four that afternoon, the workshop students were scheduled to gather with Martha Dinsk in a third-floor meeting room.

“I don’t want to leave Sadie our first night,” Miriam said.

A knock sounded on the door and Amelia said, “I forgot, we arranged for someone to stay with Sadie. The person is probably here now. If you want to come with me, Miriam, to meet Martha Dinsk, she can take Sadie for a walk.”

Sadie piped up. “You go with Grandma, Mama.” She walked toward the door and opened it. A young woman, perhaps nineteen years old, stood in their doorway, smiling.

“Sadie?” She extended her hand. “I’m Laurie Landrey.”

“Mama,” Sadie said, “Laurie and I will sit in front of that big fireplace in the lobby. Do you think we could do that, Laurie?”

The young woman nodded.

“Yes, we could do that, and then maybe we could walk down to the Plaza. It’s pretty at night, and there’s music.”

Miriam nodded. “Whatever you want to do is fine. You will look after her, Laurie, and keep ahold of her hand if you go out.”

“I’ll do that. Sadie will be just fine. We’ll have a good time.”