Frannie skipped all the stuff about the camping trip and finding Claire and Jenny and Beth in the broken-down truck. And the part about how it looked like Claire was leaving Red. She told him about the trailer, and the water and the wind. How she’d searched everywhere. And how they’d heard shouts from out in the water but couldn’t reach whoever it was. “I think there’s more than one person out there.” She hoped it was three. Claire and Beth and Jenny.
“Now with the rain coming down,” Paul put in, “we can’t hear a thing.”
“And the water is treacherous,” Mel added. He eyed the life vest in Red’s hand. “Is that the boat we asked for?”
Frannie’s hopes sank.
“Show me where you heard them,” Red said.
Frannie grabbed the other life vest and the rope they’d used with Mel, and the four of them went down the slope. The rain had lightened to a drizzle.
“They’re out that way somewhere.” Mel pointed into the dark.
Red lifted his flashlight, but the beam was swallowed in the veil of misty darkness. He shouted, “Claire!” The desperation in his voice was unmistakable.
No answer.
Red waded into the water. With a sudden sickening lurch, Frannie remembered something from that day they went to Yellowstone. Something really important. She splashed toward Red, and grabbed him by the arm. “You’re not going out there, Red,” she told him.
“I have to,” Red said, holding out his hand for the vest Frannie carried. “I’ll bring her back.”
Frannie waded out of his reach, holding the vest behind her back. “Nope.”
“Frannie!” His voice was sharp, like a dad threatening a naughty child.
This time, Frannie wasn’t being a brat just for kicks. She couldn’t let him go out there. No way, no how. It had to be her.
“Frannie, give it to me.” Red waded toward her.
“No,” she snapped.
In the past six hours, she’d survived an earthquake, that horrid wind, and a flood. She’d rescued a dozen people, learned to pray, and witnessed a miracle. Now, she was going to save her sister—and her brother-in-law. But she wasn’t going to swim in this bulky sweater. “Turn around unless you want to see me in my underwear.”
That stopped Red for a moment.
She pulled the sweater over her head and threw it to Paul.
He caught it and sputtered, “Frannie, what are you doing?”
She tied the vest around her neck, and the length of rope to her waist. It would help her on the way back. “Give me the other vest, Red.”
He came closer and his voice held an edge of anger. “I’m not going to let you go out there, Frannie.”
She was going to have to lay it out for him.
“Red.” She stopped him with an upraised hand. “I know you want to be the one to save them, but I’m the only one that can get out thereand”—she emphasized the word with a glare—“get them back.”
Red’s jaw went tight. “How do you figure that?”
She gave him an exasperated look. “What happens when you get to them?” she demanded. “There are at least two people out there. And we figure they aren’t able to swim, right?” She looked at Paul for confirmation. He nodded reluctantly. “And we have two life vests.”
Red grimaced, and she could see he was beginning to understand.
“I can swim back without a vest... and you can’t.”
His shoulders sagged and she knew she was right. Red couldn’t swim. She’d remembered when she saw him wade into the water, how they had gone to the Firehole River that first day touring the park.They’d all taken a dip to cool down except for Red. He hadn’t gone in any farther than knee-deep. “Claire will kill me if I let you drown.”
Red rubbed a hand over his face. “Frannie... if something happens to you...” He didn’t have to finish.
