Page 20 of The Fault Between Us
“That sounds pretty neat.” Frannie looked impressed.
Claire’s spirits rose as she caught a flash of the little sister she remembered. Next, Claire led the way through the big red doors of the castle-like Old Faithful Inn. “This is the place for the tourists with money,” she explained. Bridget and Frannie both looked up in wonder. It’s what all the tourists did when they first saw the soaring height of the lobby. Staircases and walkways made of peeled lodgepolepines crisscrossed the outer walls, and high windows showed glimpses of sky and wisps of clouds.
“It’s one of the largest log structures in the world,” Claire told them as they crossed the lobby strewn with bentwood chairs and wrought iron candelabras. The three-story stone fireplace was cold in the summer months but still impressive. Red held Jenny where she could see the swinging pendulum of the enormous clock that counted off the minutes between Old Faithful’s performances.
Bridget edged closer to Claire. “Now do you see what you left me to deal with?” she whispered, jerking her head toward Frannie, who was peeking into the dining room full of well-dressed tourists.
Claire pressed her lips together as guilt stung her. When she’d told Bridget she was going to Yellowstone for the summer, Bridget had moaned that she was deserting her to deal with Dad and Frannie on her own. Even after she married Red, Bridget hadn’t let up on the guilt trip. “She’s not so bad.”
“Hey, you guys,” Frannie interrupted, practically yelling across the lobby as she pointed to the dining room menu posted on the wall. “I could murder a hamburger and fries.”
Claire joined Frannie at the double doors that led into the dining room. “We have sandwiches and pop in the cooler,” she told Frannie.
“Which you’d know if you got up in time to help her make them,” Bridget chimed in.
Frannie’s brow wrinkled. “You mean the sandwiches that were in the ice chest?”
Claire frowned. “What do you meanwere?”
Frannie shrugged. “I didn’t have any breakfast. And the last one went to the bear.”
Claire stared at her sister in dismay. How could she not know that was their lunch?
“Frannie, you are the living end,” Bridget said with her familiar outrage.
Claire looked to Red, joining them with Jenny. They were hours from home and there wasn’t another restaurant for twenty miles.
“What’s the big deal? Let’s just eat here,” Frannie said, as if it was obvious.
Claire couldn’t very well tell her sister that lunch at the Old Faithful Inn would cost more than she spent on groceries for a week. She glanced at Red and then back at the dining room. He passed Jenny to her, then dug in his pocket and frowned at four crumpled one-dollar bills. Not enough.
“You didn’t take any money from the cookie tin?” It was the wrong thing to say. The money in the cookie tin was what they had left from Marigold, and Red’s expression hardened. Heat crept up her neck and Jenny began to fuss in her arms. She glanced toward Bridget, hoping she hadn’t heard their embarrassing dilemma or noticed Red’s flare of temper.
No such luck.
Bridget was watching with a sharp gaze, but suddenly smiled brightly. “Goodness, Claire, I completely forgot.” She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet, then a crisp twenty-dollar bill. “It’s from Dad. He told me to take you out for a nice meal on him.”
“Hallelujah, we’re saved,” Frannie crowed.
Claire’s heart dropped as Red’s face went flint hard. “We don’t need your father’s money,” Red answered, his voice like stone grating on stone.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bridget snapped in her no-nonsense voice. “It’s obvious you do.”
Claire squeezed her eyes shut. Bridget couldn’t have said anything worse if she tried.
“Wowsa.” Now even Frannie had noticed Red’s furious expression.
“Red”—Bridget tried to backpedal—“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
But it was too late.
“I know exactly what you meant,” Red ground out. He took Jenny from Claire’s arms. “Jenny and I will wait in the truck. I’d rather be hungry than eat on your father’s dime.”
chapter 12:BRIDGET
“Why can’t you drive me to Mammoth?” Bridget asked Claire on Sunday morning. Bridget didn’t want to be a pain, but an hour and a half in the truck alone with Red wasn’t a pleasant prospect.
Red hadn’t said a word to her since yesterday. Honestly, she hadn’t meant to offend him.
