Page 57 of The Fault Between Us
It was hard not to admire him at least a little. He was just as brave and capable as Claire—whether it was shooting an elk to feed his family or changing a diaper—and wasn’t that about as romantic a hero as she’d ever read about in her books?
Bridget had always wondered what it would be like to be brave like Claire. To go on her own adventure like the nurses in her novels. The closest she’d come to making that a reality was the Mayo Clinic in Rochester but that grand plan had just gone up in smoke.
The full moon lit the road before her, as she took the road west toward Norris Junction and drove a tiny bit faster. She was going to have to apologize to Red. She never should have made that promise to Dad. And what Red had said about her father—that he’d made himself the center of their lives—she’d given that a lot of thought. Dad had spent the last twenty years taking care of his girls—protecting them—and maybe he didn’t know how to stop.
As much as she hated to admit Red was right, maybe it was time for Dad to let go of his tight hold on Claire. And time for Red and Claire to hold on to each other with all their might. Because wasn’t that what all the romance books were really about? That love—real love—was worth fighting for? Maybe it sounded a little corny, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Bridget passed the deserted ranger station at the edge of the park and slowed to a crawl to make the right-hand turn up highway 191 toward Riverside. She was glad the intersection was deserted, because she couldn’t find the turn signal.
She was picking up speed again when the Thunderbird’s headlights illuminated a lone figure on the side of the road. She knew that cowboy hat and the lanky silhouette. She stomped on the brakes and came to a screeching halt. “I told you to stay put,” she said.
“Where did you...?” He stared at the Thunderbird.
“Doesn’t matter right now.” Bridget fumbled, then remembered how to put the car in park. “Get in. I have to talk to you.”
Red opened the passenger door and sat down heavily on the leather seat. “Where is she, Bridget? I went to the Depot and to all the motels in West.”
“Listen, Red. It’s not what you think.” She filled him in about Beth Henshaw, shivering in the cool night air. She’d left the hospital in her uniform and without even a sweater. “Claire isn’t leaving you. She’s getting Beth to her parents in Idaho and then she’ll come right back.”
There. That should settle things. She might be able to patch things up with Larkin if she got back quick. In the light of the dashboard, she saw Red’s clenched jaw and stony expression. What was wrong now? Red should be relieved. Claire was helping out a friend and then she’d be back, and they could iron out their differences. She slapped at a mosquito. “I couldn’t tell you on the phone because of the party line. For all I knew, the Henshaws were listening in and I didn’t want them to know where Beth was going.”
Red twisted in his seat to face her. “Why should I believe you?”
Bridget’s brows came down. Of all the nerve. Here she’d kissed her recommendation goodbye and he was accusing her of lying to him? Before she could summon an indignant reply, he opened his door and walked around the car to the driver’s side. “Move over.”
“What?” She scooted over as he got in. He put the car in gear and was driving before she’d even settled in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”
“To Ennis. To find Claire and Jenny,” he said. “I’m not going home without them.”
chapter 36:RED
Red didn’t believe Bridget’s story.
She’d been looking down her nose at him since she’d handed him her purse at the Depot. Why would she change now? And either way—if Claire was leaving him or if she was helping Beth—he needed to find her. Pete wasn’t somebody to cross.
“This isn’t my car,” Bridget sputtered. “How far is it to Ennis? I have to get it back before—”
“Not far,” he said. He pushed the car over the speed limit and the cool night air whipped past them.
Bridget crossed her bare arms. Red juggled the wheel and shrugged out of his jacket. She put it on with a grateful look and shoved her hands in the pockets.
Immediately, he realized what he’d done.
Bridget pulled the letter from Claire out of the jacket pocket. “What’s this?”
He gritted his teeth and didn’t answer.
“It’s from Claire,” she said, peering at the envelope in the moonlight. “What does it say?”
He shrugged. It might say she was leaving him. Or it might not. He couldn’t bear to know. He tapped the brakes as a coyote appeared out of the darkness and dashed across the road.
She turned it over and frowned. “You haven’t even opened it. Why on earth not?”
Red clenched his jaw. It wasn’t her business.
“Red?” she asked again in that huffy way she had.
He pushed down on the accelerator, the headlights eating up the road in front of him. He might as well tell her. If—when—he got Claire back and brought her to Willmar, everyone would know his shameful secret, including Daniel Reilly. And anyway, what did his pride matter now? “I can’t,” he rasped, the words sticking in his throat.
