Every person on Refuge Point gathered in silence as the four victims were carried on stretchers to the waiting helicopter. Bridget saw lips moving and heads bowed in prayer. Bridget said a gratefulgoodbye to Lance and Linda, and then to Mrs. Greer, fighting back tears as the older woman insisted on hugging her.
“I’m praying for your sisters,” Mrs. Greer said. “And I’ll stay here until the last patient is rescued.”
Bridget’s pulse beat as hard as the helicopter rotors and her legs were quaking at the thought of flying in the huge yellow contraption, but she had one more task to complete. She turned to Dr. Sampson and steeled her nerve. She’d say it quick, and then get on board before he could get mad. “About your car, Dr. Sampson. I have a confession to make.”
chapter 62:RED
When Red reached the top of the slide, he stopped to catch his breath and look back at the canyon. What had been the clear-running Madison and forested Rock Creek Campground was a mountain of debris and flattened timber. Drowning treetops jutted from the dark surface of the rapidly filling lake.
He had reached the summit without finding any evidence of Jenny, and the torturous pain in his chest subsided to a dull ache.
He could still hope.
The helicopter that had taken Claire and Beth buzzed over his head on another sortie into the canyon. He turned around, surveying the scene on the Madison Valley side of the disaster. At the bottom of the landslide, the highway to Ennis resumed abruptly out of the rubble. A half dozen cars were parked along what had been the Madison River, but was now a waterless, muddy ditch.
Suddenly, the boulders beneath his boots shifted and the landslide trembled. He crouched low as rubble dislodged and tumbled downward. Below, he could see trees shivering. The echo of rockfall died away as the earth steadied under him. The aftershocks were a little likeriding an unbroken horse—made it tricky to stay in the saddle—and he’d be glad when the mountain stopped bucking.
He picked his way down the slope toward the waiting cars, his head pounding and his mouth dry as dust. He couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last, or had a drink of water, but none of that mattered until he found Jenny.
When he got to the base of the slide the first person he saw was Lem Garrison.
Red didn’t bother with niceties as he approached the superintendent of Yellowstone National Park standing next to a dark sedan. “I’m looking for my little girl.” Red’s voice cracked. “I need to get to Ennis.”
Lem’s brows went up, but he didn’t hesitate. “Get in, Red.”
Red slid into the sedan and Garrison pulled around to head west at a speed well above the limit. Without taking his eyes off the road, he passed Red a canteen. “You were in the canyon during the quake?”
Red drained the canteen, the tepid water soothing his tight throat. “Rode in from Sunnyslope,” he answered. “My wife was—” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “My wife and daughter were at Rock Creek.”
Garrison glanced over. His grim expression showed he knew what happened at the campground. “I’m sorry, Red,” he said. “Is she...?”
“No,” Red answered quickly. “Claire made it out on the first helicopter,” he said. “But we didn’t find Jenny.” He blinked, his eyes suddenly stung with grit. “She’s only four months old.”
Garrison didn’t respond with platitudes and Red appreciated that. They both knew the chances of a baby surviving where grown men and women had perished. Garrison navigated around a crevice in the road and let the silence stretch.
As they gained speed again, his brows came down. “You rode into Rock Creek from Sunnyslope? With those aftershocks?”
“I had a good horse.” Red had left Marigold and Flick in the care of the kid, Lance. Told him they belonged to Wormsbecker and to see if he could get them back when—if—the roads opened up. “Claire was down there, and with the phones out, nobody knew if the damwas holding. I thought I could warn the campgrounds, but—” He swallowed the lump of regret. “I was too late for Rock Creek.”
Garrison gave him a long, appraising look.
The water had revived Red, and now he had his own question. “Why aren’t you in Yellowstone?” There had to have been some damage in the park and Lem Garrison was in charge of the whole two million acres.
Garrison grimaced. “We were visiting my in-laws in Ennis. I’m stuck here until I can get a helicopter. They’re all tied up with the rescue operation.” He went on the shoulder to get around a boulder sitting in the middle of the road. “Figured I might as well help out.”
“Do you think people are hurt in the park?” Red asked. If the damage at Rock Creek was anything to go by, there could be hundreds—maybe thousands—of injured.
Garrison shook his head. “We got radio reports from my people there. Nobody was seriously injured that they know of, thank God. The dining room ceiling of Old Faithful collapsed, and the fireplace in the lobby sustained some damage.” Garrison glanced over at him. “Plenty of tourists putting up a fuss, and a few of the geysers aren’t so happy either, erupting all over the park. The scientists are going to be busy for months.”
They rode in silence again and Red thought about how he’d dreaded talking to Garrison enough to take off to Libby, just to find him waiting when he got out of the canyon. Was it bad luck, or a nudge from God to come clean about Dell?
“Red,” Garrison said before Red decided, “when you applied for the job at the park, I asked around about you.”
Red felt a knot tighten in his gut.
“Grew up an orphan, petty crimes. Time spent in jail.”
Red felt about two inches tall. Garrison was somebody he admired. After the lies Pete Henshaw spewed—and knowing Red’s past—of course the superintendent pegged him as the crook smuggling sheds out of the park. Was it even worth it for Red to tell him who the real culprit was?
