Throughout the day, members of their group came together and moved apart. Ben was ever-present, and Amelia realized that try as she would, she could not keep Ben from Miriam. Besides, it was clear to her that Miriam liked Ben, and that soon Amelia would be taking a backseat to a budding romance.

Later that afternoon, Miriam asked if Amelia minded if she went out with Ben for dinner.

“You go ahead, Mom,” Sadie replied. “Grandma and I are going to order up dinner. Then we’re gonna take hot baths, wash one another’s hair, and curl up in bed with good books.” And the matter was settled.

Early the next morning, Ben called their room to say he had rented an SUV for their trip to Bandelier and asked what time would they like to leave.

“We’re up, so we might as well go down for breakfast and hit the road,” Amelia said. They gathered their gear and headed downstairs.

Carefully, Ben deposited all their equipment in the back of the SUV. Everyone settled in and buckled up. “Let’s go to Bandelier,” he said and handed Miriam a map. “Can you read a map?”

“Of course I can read a map.” Miriam exchanged her dark glasses for reading glasses and studied the map. “Bandelier National Monument. Got a pen? I’ll mark it. Easier that way, and I won’t have to keep changing my glasses.”

He handed her the pen from his pocket. The city fell away behind them. Ben drove slowly and in time they came upon a narrow dirt road to the left.

“I wonder where that goes?” Miriam asked.

“Let’s find out.” Veering sharply, Ben turned onto the road. A hundred feet along, they stopped for an old man with sun-baked, furrowed skin who ambled along behind a small herd of sheep. The dust-laden wool hung thick on the backs of the sheep, and dust coated the man’s hair and clothing.

Ben parked the car and they got out. The old man stopped. “Buenos dias, señor,” Ben said.

“What kind of sheep are they?” Amelia asked, after greeting the man.

“Just sheep, señora.” The man shrugged.

“After you shear them, do you sell them to the butcher?” Ben asked.

Amelia was relieved when the old man said, “No sell sheep, señor. Sheep mia familia.”

Ben peppered the man with questions. Where did he graze his sheep? How many did he have? How old were they? How could you tell a sheep’s age? In no time, Ben and the man were chatting like old friends, and Ben was circling the sheep, while the old man identified and named each member of his flock. Next thing they were photographing both man and sheep.