Chapter 65 Claire
“Dad!” Claire waved as her father stepped off the bus at the Depot.
Red stood beside her, Jenny in his arms. He shifted from foot to foot like he did when he was nervous. “Don’t worry.” Claire kissed him quickly. “It’s going to be fine.”
The biggest earthquake in the history of the Rocky Mountains had happened four days ago and the county was in an uproar.
As soon as the roads opened, West Yellowstone was filled with tourists trying to get out of Yellowstone National Park—and newspaper reporters, the Red Cross, and the National Guard trying to get in.
Unfortunately, the newspaper reports of the earthquake got to Dad before the telephone lines were back in service.
When Claire was finally able to call out, Flo was overjoyed to hear they were all safe, but Dad was already on a train west. “He was beside himself,” Flo said. “He’ll be there at five o’clock.”
“Today?” Claire said in disbelief, her eyes locking with Red’s as he burped Jenny after her morning bottle. “Today,” Claire said after telling Flo goodbye.
Now, Dad pushed through the crowd at the Depot and pulled Claire into his arms, squeezing her like he’d given her up for dead.
“Say hello to your granddaughter,” Claire told him when he finally let her go.
Dad said all the right things about Jenny—that she was beautiful and looked just like her mother—but he didn’t say one word to Red.
“He’ll warm up,” Claire whispered to Red as he loaded Dad’s matching suitcases into the back of the truck. She hoped she was right.
They drove through West Yellowstone, with Dad asking for all the details about the earthquake and her ordeal in what was now being called Quake Lake.
A journalist from Helena wrote a whole article about Beth and Claire and their night in the water.
“They didn’t stop knocking on our door,” Claire told Dad.
“We even got a telegram from Art Linkletter asking us to appear on his show.” She’d told him she had no interest in being on television, much to Frannie’s sorrow.
As they drove north on highway 191—where damage was still evident in stretches of buckled road and downed trees—Claire downplayed what had happened as much as she could. Dad was already aghast, he didn’t need to know all the details.
Claire bounced Jenny on her lap and Jenny cooed and dimpled, showing off for her grandfather.
Claire hadn’t let Jenny out of her sight since they got back to Riverside, even sleeping with Jenny in the bed between her and Red.
When she woke—as she did most nights—with the nightmare of cold water closing over her, Jenny’s soft breathing and Red’s warm presence consoled her.
Now she watched as Red drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as they got closer to Riverside. What on earth was Dad doing, acting as if Red wasn’t sitting right beside her?
“Did you ever find out who brought her out of the canyon?” Dad asked.
“A Forest Service ranger.” Claire let out a long breath.
Thank goodness for Joseph Shields, who had been doing his last round at Rock Creek.
“He heard me and got to the trailer just as the water started rising.” Joseph had come to Riverside after the article came out.
He and Jenny had ended up on the west end of the rising water after the trailer was swept away.
He figured the best thing to do was get the baby to safety.
He decided to hike out over the slide in the dark and was the first survivor to reach Ennis.
“He said she was as good as gold.” Claire touched Jenny’s nose with one finger and her daughter broke into a grin.
“And you found her in Ennis?” Dad asked.
Claire glanced at Red. “Eventually.” She wasn’t about to tell Dad about the terrifying chase after Iris Henshaw. “Here we are,” Claire said brightly as Red slowed the truck and pulled up in front of their house.
Dad’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. “This is . . . where you live?”
Red cut Claire a sideways glance that said he’d been right to be worried.
Claire didn’t care what her Dad had to say.
Their home was wonderful. The house had come through the earthquake and its many aftershocks miraculously unscathed.
A broken front window—repaired with cardboard for now—was the only damage.
The paint was still peeling and the porch was cracked, but wildflowers added their color to the buffalo grass and the mountains provided a stunning backdrop.
Stretching above it all was the immense blue sky. Who needed anything more?
“Come on,” Claire said. “Bridget and Frannie will be here soon and I have dinner in the oven.”
Claire climbed out of the truck with Jenny, but before she made it to the cracked front steps, Bridget roared up in a mint green Thunderbird convertible with a hefty dent in its front bumper. She jumped out of the car and ran to hug Dad.
“You drive now?” Dad threw a disbelieving look at the car.
Maybe Claire should have warned Dad that there were some surprises in store. Bridget sang out a hello to Red, who was getting the luggage out of the car. He gave her a nod.
“I thought you were bringing Frannie,” Claire said as they trooped into the house. Claire had hardly seen Bridget since the earthquake, just a tearful reunion when she got back from transporting the injured to Livingston, and then she was needed at the Red Cross site in Ennis.
“Yes, where is your little sister?” Dad griped. “I have a thing or two to say to her.” His tone said it wasn’t going to be a happy reunion.
Bridget looked out the open front door. “Speak of the devil.”
A car door slammed and a moment later Frannie came in, making a beeline for Dad. She threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
Dad’s arms were pinned to his sides by Frannie’s embrace, his face so shocked, Claire had to hide a laugh behind her hand. Bridget choked back a laugh of her own.
“Oh Dad,” Frannie pressed her face on his white shirt. “I’ve been such a dummy. Can you forgive me?”
“What on earth?” Dad looked from Claire to Bridget as if they could explain to him the behavior of his youngest daughter.
“Frannie”—Claire handed Frannie the dish towel to dry her eyes—“you can tell Dad all about it at dinner. Introduce Paul and then wash up.”
“Dad, Paul. Paul, Dad,” Frannie said with her usual lack of manners. They sat down elbow-to-elbow at the little table and said grace.
“What do we have here?” Dad eyed his plate as Claire dished up.
“Elk stew,” Claire said. Claire hadn’t had any time to make something fancier and anyway, this was turning into her specialty.
Dad’s brows went up, but he dipped his spoon and gave it a try. “You’ll have to give Flo your recipe,” he said politely.
Dad still hadn’t said a word to Red and, in fact, he avoided looking his direction. Bridget caught her eye and frowned. Claire wasn’t the only one who noticed.
During dinner, Frannie gave a dramatic account of the earthquake, the wind, and the flood, and by the end of her spiel Dad was looking queasy. Paul took over when Frannie ran out of steam. “I talked to my friend in the lookout tower, he was right at the epicenter.”
“What’s an epicenter?” Bridget asked.
Paul was more than happy to answer. “It’s where the earthquake was strongest. He pinpointed it at the spot where highway 287 and 191 meet.”
“You mean we kicked Sam and Ernie out at the epicenter?” Frannie slapped her knee. “Serves them right.”
“All kinds of neat stuff is happening in the park,” Paul went on. “Over two hundred springs are erupting all over the place and even Old Faithful has changed its schedule.”
“Did anyone inside the park get hurt?” Dad asked with a frown.
Paul shook his head. “I heard one lady broke her wrist when she slipped on the stairs trying to get out of the Yellowstone Inn. The injuries and fatalities were almost all in the Madison Canyon.”
Silence descended around the table. The search for survivors in Madison Canyon had gone on all week, and the fatality count was revised every day. So far there were sixteen known dead, fourteen of them at Rock Creek.
“I saw Jerrylynn’s parents yesterday,” Frannie said softly.
“I’m so sorry about your friend, Frannie,” Claire said with a rush of sorrow for the sweet girl with the ponytail and the generous spirit.
Frannie’s eyes got teary. Paul put his arm around her.
Dad’s brows came down at that and he glared at Paul.
Bridget was just as somber. “Mildred Wilson’s funeral is tomorrow.” She looked to Frannie. “I’m driving up to Livingston for it. Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” Frannie said. “And I have something for Connie and her dad.” The way she said it sounded suspicious.
“What is it?” Bridget asked with a frown.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Frannie said. Frannie had grown up a lot in the past week, but she was still Frannie.
Dad leaned back from the table. He pulled his pipe from the inside pocket of his suit coat.
“Red,” he suddenly said, as if he hadn’t pretended Red didn’t exist for the past hour.
He had the serious look on his face Claire knew well.
“I’d like a word with you.” He glanced around the table. “In private.”
Bridget’s gaze met Claire’s.
Frannie’s eyes went from Dad to Red. “Uh oh.”
Red’s expression was unreadable as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “Let’s talk outside.”