“I’ll get her,” he said, the relief on his face obvious.
Claire carried the basket out the back door. She’d had a dozen conversations in her head while she’d waited for him. Had he been at the Slippery Otter on Sunday? What did he know about Dell’s death? And what on earth had happened last night to land him in jail? But now, her tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Red followed her outside, Jenny in his arms.
She put the basket on the grass and turned to see Red watching her like he might watch a skittish horse. They never fought, not in the year and a half they’d been married. She didn’t want to fight now. Not when he was looking so miserable. Not when his friend had just died.
“I heard about Dell,” she said, instead of giving him the third degree. “I’m sorry.”
Red looked past her toward the river. Emotion played over his face, something Claire couldn’t read. Grief and regret, perhaps. “He was a good man.”
She waited for him to tell her more. About his friendship and how he felt about Dell’s death. To open up to her and let her in. To tell her why he’d got in a fight and what secrets he was keeping from her.
She wanted to know his heart, but he was hiding it from her.
He didn’t meet her gaze. He kissed the top of Jenny’s head and put her into Claire’s arms. “I need to get cleaned up and get to work.”
Claire had eggs ready for Red after he took a shower and changed into clean clothes. He sat down at the table, but didn’t look at her when she put a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. “Jenny slept through the night again,” Claire said to break the silence. She didn’t say she’d hardly slept a wink.
Jenny, as if she knew they were talking about her, squealed from the spot on the couch where Claire had propped her. Red took a gulp of the hot coffee and nodded as if everything was normal.
She put his eggs on a plate and brought them to the table. They were burnt at the edges and the yolks were hard, but he bolted them down.
“Good eggs,” he said.
The white lie made her bristle. She took a sip of her coffee and gathered her courage for one more attempt to get him to talk. “I’m going to the Henshaws’ today, to give them my condolences.”
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth and his gaze shifted to her. “You don’t have to do that, Claire.”
She didn’t have to, or she shouldn’t? “It’s the polite thing.”
He put down his fork. “They’re not that kind of people, Claire. Best to leave them be.”
His face was blank, and she was positive now that he was keeping something from her and it had something to do with Dell Henshaw. She picked up his dirty plate and empty coffee cup and brought it to the sink without answering. Suddenly, going to the Henshaws’ seemed like just the thing to do.
Red put on his hat and kissed her cheek. “Left Rosie at the ranch. Got to catch Bucky to get a ride to work.”
Claire went to the bedroom and settled Jenny on the bed to kick her legs and roll from her front to her back like theBetter Homes & Gardens Baby Booksaid she must do at least twice per day. Claire pulled her suitcase from under the bed and began to unpack her dresses.
When she’d first met Red, his quiet nature struck her as romantic—like Gary Cooper or John Wayne in the movies. She’d found out when they married that his silence was also frustrating. Red didn’t like to talk about certain things—money, her father, his past. When they came up, he found a reason to see to the horses, or go to work, or just go quiet. Whenever he avoided her eyes like he had today she got a tight uneasiness in her stomach.
Claire opened the top drawer of the dresser to put away Jenny’s things.Best to leave them be,Red had said about the Henshaws.But why? Beth was grieving, and Claire could offer her the hand of friendship. She put the suitcase back on the top shelf and picked up Jenny.
After fiddling with the carburetor, Claire got the truck started and drove to Eagle’s for a condolence card. “We can’t show up at the Henshaws’ empty-handed,” she said. Jenny squealed in what sounded like agreement. She left the truck running and picked out the first pretty card she saw. Helen Eagle looked at her purchase with raised brows. “That will be ten cents, Mrs. Wilder.” Jenny squirmed in Claire’s arms as she slapped the dime on the counter and asked for her mail. She shoved the two bills and a letter from Bridget into her purse and left with a polite thank-you to Helen Eagle.
Back in the truck, she wrote a short message inside the card.If there’s ever anything I can do to help, anything at all, let me know.She drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other on Jenny, to the Henshaws’ place on the north end of town. When she reached the dilapidated two-story, the curtains were closed and no laundry hung on the clothesline. If it wasn’t for the red Ford truck in the driveway, she would have thought the house deserted.
Claire felt the prickle of gooseflesh on her bare arms.Best not poke the bear.Her heart sped up as she carried Jenny up the uneven sidewalk. The front door opened as she reached it. Claire had seen Iris Henshaw in passing, but other than the streak of white running through her dark hair, Claire hardly recognized the woman looking out at her. Her skin was sallow, her cheeks sunken, grief was written on her face and in the droop of her shoulders. Claire cradled Jenny close as a swell of compassion pinched her throat. To lose a child, she couldn’t imagine. Two children was unthinkable.
“Mrs. Henshaw,” Claire managed to say, “I’m so sorry about Dell.”
Iris Henshaw’s expression didn’t change, but her red-rimmed eyes riveted on Jenny. The door swung open a few more inches and Beth appeared behind her mother-in-law.
Beth looked nothing like the laughing girl Claire remembered meeting. Her heart-shaped face was deathly pale, her caramel-coloredhair fell limply over thin shoulders. “Mrs. Wilder?” she said, her voice uncertain.
“Please, call me Claire.” Jenny squirmed and made a stuttering cry as Claire tried to think of something more to say.
Iris broke the silence, her voice a painful-sounding rasp. “Is this your baby?” She reached a trembling hand out to Jenny, who stopped wiggling and regarded her with a round-eyed gaze. “So pretty.”
