How could she give up the most wonderful gift she’d ever received? A gift that proved she’d left Claire Reilly behind? Her chest tightened at the thought of losing a horse that was like a best friend to her. And even if she could give her up, how could she possibly explain such a thing to Red? The day he gave her Marigold, he’d been bursting with pride—his blue eyes alight with hope.
Marigold and Red and the hope for their future. They all fit together.
She had to make a choice. Let her father’s critical judgement come down on Red—again—or let go of Marigold, and break Red’s heart and her own?
chapter 7:BRIDGET
Bridget watched the sun-burnished terrain flash past the train window.
She and Frannie had boarded last night in St. Cloud and passed a fitful night sleeping in the upright chairs. When Bridget woke, it was to see the sun rising over the landscape utterly unlike the rolling green hills and sparkling lakes of Minnesota.
“Look, Frannie.” She elbowed her sister. Rock pinnacles striped in pink and scarlet flanked deep canyons of olive-green foliage, and golden buttes reflected the sun. “Isn’t it marvelous?” If she could drag Frannie out of her sulks, maybe this trip wouldn’t be wretched.
Frannie stubbornly kept her eyes shut. If sulking was a subject in school, Frannie would get straight As.
Bridget had tried her best to save Claire from a month of Fran’s pouting. “We can’t just drop a houseguest on Claire, Dad,” she’d said. “She has a baby to take care of.”
“Your sister’s not a houseguest,” Dad said firmly. “She’s family. And Frannie can help with Jenny.”
Frannie was going to be as much help as a case of measles.
At the thought of their arrival in West Yellowstone, Bridget’s stomach did a little flip that had nothing to do with Frannie’s pouting. She’d played a mean trick on Claire, showing up without warning.
But Claire hadn’t given her any choice.
It was bad enough her sister hadn’t come home for Christmas like she’d promised, but when she refused to have Bridget come out to help with the baby, Bridget was shocked. “What do you mean, don’t come?” Bridget said when Claire called a few weeks before her due date. Why wouldn’t Claire want her sister—a registered nurse—there to help with a newborn? But Claire was adamant. “We’ll be fine.” Bridget couldn’t very well insist, but the unease she had about Claire since her out-of-the-blue marriage grew to worry over her sister... and her choice of husband.
Bridget tucked her concern away in the back of her mind as she made plans for her next career move—her application to work at Mayo Clinic in Rochester. It was a prestigious position and one she’d dreamed about since nursing school, as did every other nurse in Minnesota. Then, Claire’s letters went from long and newsy to short and unremarkable, Dad got worried, and so did Bridget.
When she saw the notice for a temporary nursing position in Yellowstone National Park, it was the perfect solution. She could find out if Claire really was fine, and wouldn’t a month working at Mammoth Hospital be just what she needed to make her application to Mayo Clinic stand out?
Bridget shifted in the uncomfortable chair. Claire had every right to be angry with her, showing up practically unannounced and with Frannie in tow, but what was done was done. She reached into her handbag and pulled out her book. Bridget was settling into the familiar plotline—intrepid young nurse goes on adventure, meets a dashing unattainable doctor—when Frannie sat up and rubbed her eyes.
Frannie glanced at the cover of the novel. “Jeepers, why do you read that junk?”
Bridget frowned. Couldn’t Frannie manage a civilgood morning?“Because I enjoy it.” What was wrong with a predictable plotline and a happy ending?
“You’re reading about some silly nurse when the world is going to end in a mushroom cloud. Don’t you even care?”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “Talk to me about caring when you save lives every day like I do.”
Frannie got up in a huff. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Suit yourself.” Bridget went back to her book. Not even Frannie could get into trouble on a moving train.
An hour later, Frannie came sashaying down the aisle, holding on to the seat backs as the train swayed around a curve. She plopped herself down beside Bridget, her face unnaturally flushed. Bridget looked at her suspiciously. “You’ve been gone awhile.”
“I met some people, been talking to them.” Her words ran together.
Bridget leaned closer and sniffed. For the love of Pete. “Have you been drinking?”
Frannie gave an unconcerned shrug. “What are you going to do? Tattle to Daddy?”
Bridget clenched her teeth and turned to the window. Dad had made her responsible for both her sisters—one to keep out of trouble, and the other to bring home. How was she going to manage that while also working a demanding job at the hospital?
She glared at Frannie, who was asleep again. Maybe she and Claire had babied Frannie too long, treating her like their little doll. Instead of growing up, Frannie was rebelling—climbing the water tower, drinking with strangers. Bridget took out her rosary. She’d pray that Frannie would come to her senses before she got herself into some real trouble.
Frannie woke up an hour later and raised her brows at the rosary Bridget still held in her hand. “I suppose you were praying for me?”
