Page 2 of The Fault Between Us
But the door shut and Mother was gone.
The sob broke free and hot tears blurred her sight. She would come back. She’d change her mind. She’d miss them. Wouldn’t she miss them?
Dad sat down on the stairs and pulled Claire into his lap. He held her tight and whispered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We don’t need her. I promise you, we’ll be fine without her.”
chapter 1:CLAIRE
August 1959
West Yellowstone, Montana
Claire was in the back aisle of Eagle’s Store reading the label on a box of Gerber cereal when she heard about the drowning.
“His father had to identify him after they pulled him from the river.” Tom Eagle’s voice carried through the shelves crammed with souvenir knickknacks, western jewelry, and fishing tackle.
Despite the stuffy August heat, a shiver of cold crept up Claire’s spine and her hold tightened on the squirming four-month-old in her arms.
“Imagine having to see your son like that,” Helen Eagle said sadly.
Claire had lived on the outskirts of Yellowstone National Park for over a year, but it was still shocking how many ways tourists got injured—and died—in the Great American Wonderland. She felt a stab of sympathy for whoever had lost their son in the river as she put the Gerber’s back on the shelf and picked up the Pablum, which was ten cents cheaper.
“His poor mother,” Helen Eagle went on. “She’s lost so much already.”
Claire’s sympathy turned to a jolt of realization. Whoever Tom and Helen Eagle were talking about wasn’t a tourist. The poor family was local.
Jenny let out an unhappy howl. Claire moved her baby to her shoulder, tucked the box of baby cereal under her arm, and made her way around displays of glassware and moccasins to the front of the store.
“Mrs. Wilder,” Helen Eagle said as Claire put her purchase next to the old-fashioned cash register. “Will this be all?” Helen Eagle wore a white apron over a striped housedress, her gray-streaked hair gathered in a tight bun on the top of her head. Her dark eyes were as sharp as a magpie’s as she looked down from her perch behind the high counter.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Claire said. “Who was it that drowned?”
Helen Eagle and her husband exchanged a look Claire couldn’t fathom and Helen hesitated as if she didn’t want to share the news. “Dell Henshaw,” she finally said in a curt voice.
“Oh, no.” Claire had only met Dell the one time, back when he and Red had been friends. He was so young... and his sweet wife. Her heart squeezed hard in her chest. “Poor Beth.” Jenny began a stuttering cry, and Claire bounced gently to soothe her. “I’ll stop in and give her my condolences.” Even if she didn’t know Beth, it was the kind thing to do.
Helen jabbed at the cash register. “That will be forty-eight cents.”
Claire juggled Jenny and opened her purse, fished out two quarters, and glanced up. “Where did it happen?”
Helen’s mouth pursed into a knot and she looked away as if she hadn’t heard the question. Claire slid the coins across the counter with a pang of annoyance. How long must she live in West Yellowstone before she graduated from outsider to local? Everyone from the Eagles to the gas station attendant treated her like an interloper no matter how hard she tried.
Tom Eagle’s weathered face creased in a frown. “In the Yellowstone.”
Claire couldn’t hide her surprise. “What was Dell doing up there?” The Yellowstone River was at the northern edge of the park, at least fifty miles from where they were now.
“Perhaps you should ask that husband of yours,” came Helen Eagle’s terse reply.
Claire’s eyes widened and heat flooded up her neck. What was Helen Eagle implying? Jenny started to fuss with a stuttering cry that meant she would soon be wailing.
Tom Eagle handed her two cents and ignored his wife’s jab. “I wouldn’t go over to Pete Henshaw’s place if I were you, Mrs. Wilder. Not with how things are.”
Claire’s grip tightened on the pennies. Red and Dell had once been friends, but they weren’t now. Could that be what Helen and Tom were getting at? She raised her brows and gave Tom Eagle a politely enquiring look. “What do you mean?”
Tom Eagle glanced at his wife. Helen’s mouth pinched and she glared at him. He shrugged. “Best not poke the bear, is all I’m saying.”
Claire left Eagle’s Store with a crying baby and a sickening turn in her stomach. Jenny’s sobs rose to a fever pitch as she crossed West Yellowstone’s Main Street to where she’d parked the truck. The street was lined with cars, campers, and yellow tour buses making their way to the park entrance for a day of sightseeing. Tourists dressed in madras shorts with cameras slung around their necks crowded the western-style boardwalk, children begged for ice cream, and a horse snorted at the hitching post in front of the Slippery Otter saloon.
She climbed into the Chevy truck—mottled with rust spots and faded blue paint—and settled Jenny on the seat beside her. “We’ll be home soon, sweet pea,” Claire promised as she turned the key in the ignition. Her daughter was hungry, tired, and possibly needing a diaper change. When Red got home from work tonight, she’d ask him about Dell Henshaw... and whatever it was that Helen Eagle was implying.
