Page 71 of The Fault Between Us
Red heard a crackle and a tinny voice coming from the headphones, but he couldn’t make out the words. “It’s Warren Russell over in West,” Wormsbecker said, then listened intently.
“Ask him about the dam,” Red said.
Wormsbecker gave him an irritated look, but he spoke into the microphone. “Warren, any word on Hebgen Dam?” He was silent. “Warren?” He pulled off the headphones. “I lost him. But he saidthe fire department contacted Civil Defense in Helena, and Fish and Game will fly over at first light to see the damage.”
First light?Red felt a surge of frustration. “That’s six hours from now.” By then the dam might be gone—or it could be already. He needed to get to Claire and Jenny, Beth and Frannie—not to mention all the campers in the canyon and the people farther downstream in Ennis.
A shudder rocked the room, shaking the shelves of food and sending a coffee cup skittering across the desk and shattering on the floor. Red grabbed the desk to keep from toppling over.
“Aftershocks,” Wormsbecker said unnecessarily. “This is the safest place to stay the night.”
Red wasn’t staying the night anywhere. He examined the map of Gallatin County on the wall beside the desk, tracing Hebgen Lake Road along the northern edge of the lake. “Here’s where the road fell in,” he said, more to himself than to Wormsbecker.
He couldn’t get to the canyon by that road. He considered the southern route—driving back to West Yellowstone and taking highway 20 along the south side of the lake, then looping up on highway 287. That route would take over an hour at the best of times. With the damage he’d seen, his chances of making a fifty-mile trip with no scarps or slides blocking the road were unlikely. He looked at the red pushpin that marked Sunnyslope Ranch. Did a quick measure of the distance to the canyon as the crow flew. He was so close. He squinted at the map. Despite what Wormsbecker said, there was a way to get to the canyon tonight.
Red took the stairs out of the bunker two at a time. He needed to talk to Bucky.
Smoke drifted over the ranch yard, and small fires crackled and popped in the remains of the house. Bridget was checking Bucky’s pulse. Endicott was on the grass, his injured arm swathed in a gauze wrap. “That was a five-thousand-dollar Cadillac,” he complained when he saw Red, as if Red was the one who ran it off the scarp.
Red ignored him.
“You’re most likely concussed,” Bridget was telling Bucky. “You’ll need to take it easy for a few days.”
“Bucky,” Red said as he reached them. “I need a horse.”
Bucky peered up at him. “You’re going into the canyon.” It wasn’t a question.
Red gave a nod. “If the dam goes—or if it already went—”
“Wilder, don’t be an idiot.” Wormsbecker hobbled up. “You can’t ride into the canyon in the dark—not with these aftershocks. And you’re not risking my horses.”
Red turned on Wormsbecker. “Beth is in the canyon.”
The mention of his niece stopped Wormsbecker’s bluster. “My Beth?”
Bridget answered. “She’s with Claire. And she’s pregnant.”
Wormsbecker scowled.
“It might work,” Bucky said. “If you take the trail around Mount Hebgen to Kirkwood ridge, then follow the creek downstream, that would get you pretty close to the dam.”
“Even if you can get in there,” Wormsbecker protested, “what help can you be?”
Red had already asked himself that. Claire might not be there, or maybe he wouldn’t find her. But Red had failed Claire when he left her to go to Libby, and he wouldn’t take a chance that he might fail her again. He gave Wormsbecker a hard stare. “I’m going. And I need a horse.”
Bucky wobbled to his feet. “We could move pretty fast and get there in a few hours.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Bridget said, pushing Bucky back down to sitting. “You’re likely to fall right out of the saddle.”
Red agreed with Bridget, Bucky didn’t look up to par. “She’s right, Buck. And you need to take care of Queenie.” He jerked his head toward the gray mare.
Bucky wasn’t easily dissuaded. “You can’t go on your own. What if you get hurt out there?”
Red would take that chance. He had to.
“He won’t be on his own,” Bridget said, standing up. “I’m going with him.”
Red thought maybe his hearing was going again, but Bridget was looking at him in a stubborn way that reminded him a lot of Claire. “No,” he said. Absolutely not. He couldn’t be slowed down by an inexperienced rider. Not with so much at stake. “You hate horses.” He strode toward the pasture.
