Page 37 of The Fault Between Us
“Up to what?” Bridget’s voice went up in surprise, but she didn’t look at Claire.
“You know what,” Claire snapped, glancing back at the road. She should have known. “This is where Red belongs. Not selling menswear in Willmar.” Claire clenched her hands around the steering wheel and concentrated on the last turn.
“What about Jenny?” Bridget straightened Jenny’s dress. “You both would be happier at home. I told Red that and—”
“You what?” Claire took her eyes off the road to stare at her sister.
Bridget clamped her lips together and looked guilty.
Claire pushed harder on the gas pedal and the truck surged forward. “What exactly did you tell Red?” Claire kept her voice under control, but her stomach quivered with anger. Had Bridget said something terrible to Red on that trip to Mammoth?
Bridget nervously wet her lips. “We talked, that’s all.”
Claire couldn’t believe her sister’s nerve. “And you told him he wasn’t—what?—taking good care of his family?” Claire’s face went hot. “That’s why he left, because you told him—”
“Red left?” Bridget jerked around to regard her with wide eyes.
Claire could have kicked herself. She concentrated on the road. “He went up north for a job, that’s all,” she snapped. “But he wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t stuck your nose in it.”
“Claire,” Bridget said, her tone urgent. “You have to come home. You can’t raise a baby on your own. You know how hard it was on Dad when—”
Taillights flashed in front of her and Claire stomped on the brakes. Bridget slid forward, one hand catching her against the dashboard, the other arm wrapped around Jenny. The truck lurched to a stop behind a camper.
Claire was pushing her foot on the brake so hard it felt like it would go through the floorboards. Her words rushed out, like a flood over a broken dam. “I’m not on my own, Bridget. Red didn’t leave us like Mother did.” Even as Claire spit out the words, the shock of them hit her. The horrible fear she hadn’t been able to name—that fear that had gripped her since she said goodbye to Red—became mercilessly clear: Redhadleft her. He’d left her just like Mother had left her family... and despite her vehement protest to the contrary, she was deathly, horribly afraid that her husband wasn’t coming back.
chapter 23:BRIDGET
Bridget stared at her sister in shock, Claire’s words ringing in her ears.
Red didn’t leave us.The way Claire said it, the denial and hurt in her voice... Claire wasn’t trying to convince Bridget.
She was trying to convince herself.
Bridget reached out to touch her sister’s trembling arm. “Claire, I didn’t mean to imply—”
Claire jerked away. “Just leave it, Bridget.”
Bridget didn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. Her throat was thick with unsaid words, her distress for Claire like a vice around her chest. Had Red really left her? And was it Bridget’s fault? How had she messed things up so badly? The last thing she wanted was to hurt Claire.
What had happened between her and her sister? Claire was right beside her, but it felt like there was a vast distance between them.
She went over the conversation—if that’s what she could call it—with Red on the way to Mammoth, and cringed at how heartless she’d been. She hadn’t meant to imply he wasn’t doing enough for his family—or had she?
Claire parked the truck in front of a log cabin structure swarming with tourists. She took Jenny from Bridget with a jerk and got out of the truck. Bridget hurried after her sister, the cheerful birdsong in the towering pines underscoring the cold silence between them.
“Let’s find Frannie and get this over with,” Claire said, pushing through double doors into a cavernous lobby of polished wood and antlers—and crowded elbow to eyelashes with tourists. A sparkling Christmas tree stood beside a massive stone fireplace and a troupe of teenagers in cowboy hats strolled through the crowd with a guitar singing “Let it Snow” at the top of their voices.
Bridget scanned the crowd for Frannie. She was going to get her little sister back to Riverside no matter what it took. Claire needed help even more now that Red was gone. There—she spotted Frannie weaving toward them wearing an outlandish costume and a grin like the Cheshire cat.
Frannie stopped in front of them, looking from Claire’s stony face to Bridget’s flushed one with raised brows. “What?”
“What on earth are you wearing?” Bridget asked.
Frannie did a twirl to show off a costume of green tights, a shockingly short skirt, and a man’s white dress shirt. A string of plastic holly around her neck and a striped stocking hat completed the ridiculous ensemble. “Goody, you brought the kid.” Frannie scooped Jenny from Claire’s arms. “I want to show her to my friends.”
“What—don’t—” Claire sputtered, but Frannie was gone. Claire took off through the crowd, pursuing Frannie as if she were a kidnapper.
Bridget followed, not as concerned about Jenny as she was about Claire. Her sister looked as white as a ghost. She caught up to Claire, hovering on the fringes of a group of Christmas elves and a Santa wearing dark-framed glasses. Frannie was showing off a wide-eyed Jenny.
