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“Hey, Spencer, do you have your keys?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“All right, we’re going into town. Grandma’s got a doctor she’s going to call for us.”
“What about all the work I need to help her with?” Bridge asked, an edge to her voice.
“Don’t worry about that, darlin’,” Cricket smiled. “Let’s go figure you out.”
Bridge nodded.
“You both stay here,” I said. “I’ll run down and get the truck for you.”
I stood and made my way toward the door.
“Everything okay?” Jonah asked.
“Yeah, uh, well, Bridge might be having some complications. I need to run for my truck to take her into town.”
Without thinking, Jonah ran across the deck, down the stairs and started his four-wheeler.
“You’ll get there faster on this thing!” he said. “Just leave it down there with the keys in the ignition. I’ll fetch it later.”
“Thanks, Jonah.” I was grateful to him.
I raced down the drive, passing the cattle barn and carriage house, rounding the horse barn, then winding down the trailer’s drive. It was still pitch black, but the four-wheeler had headlights. It would have only been a seven- or eight-minute walk, but I was so anxious, walking that would have felt like a lifetime. I turned off the engine but left the keys in the ignition as Jonah had asked then propelled myself into my truck, started the engine and threw the gear in reverse before I realized I’d probably need some cash. Then I thought it would probably be a good idea to take all of it. I placed it in park and went inside, stuffing the wads of bills in a small pack.
I drove like a banshee, but it felt like it took forever to get to the main house. I sat idle for a moment, the exhaust from the truck billowing out around me when they finally emerged. I jumped from the truck and ran up to them, helping Bridge get in, then tiny Cricket right after her. Bridge insisted on sitting in the back so she could lie down if she wanted to. We were bumbling down the road in less than a minute.
“Thank God the roads are clear today and there’s no snow,” Cricket said, buckling herself in.
“Is your heater working?” I asked Cricket, placing my hand over Bridge’s vent in the back to make sure hers was also heating up.
She looked at me strangely. “Uh, yeah, it’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
She peered behind her. Bridge was resting her head in her hand, her elbow sat on the armrest.
“You okay?” Cricket asked.
“I-I don’t know. We’ll see, I guess.”
Bridge tried to sound cool but terror laced her voice.
“Do you mind me asking? Was there a lot of blood?” Cricket asked.
“Uh, no-yes...I don’t know.”
“Okay, that’s okay. We’ll see what Dr. Harmon says.”
Bridge nodded.
Cricket turned toward me and I looked at her. We didn’t speak. I hated to have to turn back toward the road. I wanted so desperately to know what she was thinking. I wanted to blurt out all my questions, but I also didn’t want to alarm Bridge. So we drove the half-hour drive southeast into Kalispell in almost complete silence. Bridge would chime in occasionally to see how much longer or to ask if we thought everything was going to be all right. “Not long,” we’d tell her. “You’ll be fine,” we’d offer with no real idea if that was the truth.
Finally, we entered downtown Kalispell. It was incredibly charming. Brick buildings built in the early nineteen hundreds, original cobblestone streets and the sidewalks filled with shopping people. The streetlights were still strung with garland and ribbon. It was beyond picturesque and looked like one of the last places on Earth you could photograph in black and white and people wouldn’t be able to discern whether it was turn of the century.
“Here it is,” Cricket said, as I turned onto Main. “This is Dr. Harmon’s.”
Bridget peeked out her window. “This looks like a drug store straight out of a Victorian-era film.”
