Page 17 of The Fault Between Us
“I’m not alone,” Claire said, throwing the stone into the rippling river. “I have Red.”
“You know what I mean.” Bridget frowned. “We’re just worried.”
“We?” Was Claire right in her suspicions? Was this some kind of scheme of Dad’s?
Bridget met Claire’s suspicious gaze. “Yes, we,” she answered. “Claire, you stopped calling, your letters barely said anything. You didn’t even let me come out when Jenny was born. We were both worried.” Her eyes locked on Claire, demanding an explanation.
“As you can see, we’re fine.” Claire waved a hand at the river, the sky, the mountains.
“Are you really?” Bridget asked the question kindly, but it rankled. “This is a far cry from how you grew up.”
Claire clamped her teeth together. Didn’t Bridget understand that was exactly the point? She’d married Red to start a new life—a life utterly unlike the one she left behind. “I’m fine,” Claire snapped. “We’re fine. You and Dad can stop worrying.”
Bridget’s eyes widened and Claire saw a flash of hurt on her sister’s face and felt terrible. Everything she’d done—sacrificing Marigold and cleaning and cooking and making Red miserable—it was all to show Bridget how happy she was. To show Dad how happy she was. Now here she was, picking a fight.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said, crossing her arms over her chest as the wind chilled her skin. “Let’s just enjoy our time together.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Bridget said, like Claire knew she would. “It’s been a long day and that kid sister of ours got on my last nerve.” She turned toward the house. “Forget I even said anything.”
Claire decided she would. It was what the Reilly family did. Pretend everything was fine, even when it wasn’t.
chapter 10:BRIDGET
Bridget eyed Red as they sat behind a line of cars waiting to get into Yellowstone National Park. He tapped impatient fingers on the steering wheel in a way that made it clear he didn’t want to be in the hot cab of the truck, showing his sisters-in-law the sights. Claire sat beside her with Jenny on her lap and acted like nothing was wrong.
Dad was right to be worried about Claire. It wasn’t just that they lived in that run-down house in the middle of nowhere and were barely making ends meet. Claire wasn’t herself, and Red... well, he clearly wasn’t an easy man to live with.
“Is it always this crowded?” Bridget asked, craning her neck to count how many cars were in front of them.
“It’s a Saturday in August,” Claire answered. “But don’t worry, it’s worth the wait.”
Bridget wasn’t so sure. She’d read plenty about Yellowstone National Park and it sounded like somewhere to avoid, not wait in line to visit. Hot springs, geysers, and wild animals, not to mention snakes. Her hands tightened on the first aid kit in her lap.
Claire had laughed when Bridget had taken it from her suitcase. “We’re not going into a disaster zone.”
“Best to be prepared,” Bridget answered. She hadn’t been prepared for the heat and was already perspiring in her linen shirtwaist. How did Claire manage to look as cool as a movie star in slim Bermuda shorts and a bright cotton boatneck? Bridget was sure Claire wasn’t even wearing a girdle.
Bridget checked her wristwatch. It was almost nine thirty, an hour later than they’d planned to leave, thanks to Frannie. She’d refused to wake up for breakfast, and when Bridget had finally told her they were going to leave without her, she spent half an hour in the bathroom. When she finally came out to the truck in hot pink pedal pushers and a top that showed an inch of her tummy, she jumped in the back with the ice chest and fishing gear. “Wake me up if we see anything interesting.”
Bridget wished her first aid kit included some kind of cure for Frannie’s rude behavior.
It was finally their turn at the entrance, and Red dug in his pocket for the fee.
“Let me,” Bridget said, opening her purse.
“Absolutely not.” Claire stopped her. “You are our guests.”
“Thank you so much, Red,” Bridget said with a forced smile. He frowned in answer and Bridget’s smile slipped. She’d just been trying to be polite.
The ranger recited his cheerful instructions: don’t feed the bears, prevent forest fires, please don’t litter, and “Enjoy Yellowstone, folks.”
“Wagons ho!” Frannie called out from the back as they pulled forward.
Bridget decided to try one more time to make nice with Claire’s husband. “Where is the ranch you work at when you’re not squiring us around?”
Red didn’t answer.
Claire jumped in, her voice overly bright. “Sunnyslope is just a few miles up the Madison from us,” she said. “Red is marvelous with horses,” she added with a smile toward her silent husband.
