Chapter 67 Bridget
“Don’t be such a worrywart.” Bridget watched Claire twist the dishcloth into a knot as Red and Dad walked down the trail to the river. “Red can handle himself.”
As usual, Frannie was shirking dish duty, sitting on the floor with Paul and playing with Jenny, but Bridget didn’t mind. It was nice not to be fighting with her. And Paul seemed to be a decent young man.
Claire turned from the window, her brows raised. “You’ve changed your tune.”
Bridget took the dish towel from Claire and began to dry the dishes. “You have no idea.”
It wasn’t just Bridget’s opinion of Red that had altered.
It was how everything she thought she knew had been turned over and shaken loose.
She’d been in an earthquake, ridden a mule through the dark, and taken risks.
Real risks—with her life, her career, and her heart.
After the terrifying helicopter flight and the long journey to Bozeman, Mildred Wilson had died, and Bridget’s heart had broken.
The thing was, the pain had meant something—and that made it easier to bear.
But not only that . . . she was still thinking on it, but it felt like since she sat beside Mildred and Phillip and Dolores—since she’d let herself care about them and not just take care of them—her own wounds had begun to heal.
And she wondered . . . was that what that tug on her heart had been all along?
Not a call to heal others like Jesus did, but an invitation to let him heal her own heart?
She didn’t know, but she wasn’t afraid anymore—not like she had been.
Oh, she still never wanted to see a rattlesnake, and she wouldn’t willingly get on a mule again, but she wanted to be brave—maybe even as brave as Claire—with her heart and with her future.
She put the dish away in the cupboard and found Claire watching her with narrowed eyes.
“What’s going on, Bridget?” Claire asked.
How did Claire do that? “Nothing at all,” Bridget lied, then changed the subject. “Have you heard from Beth?”
Claire gave her a look that said she knew what Bridget was up to, but she answered anyway.
“I got a letter today. Her parents are happy to have her back and she promised to come visit next summer with the baby. And before you ask”—Claire passed her another plate—“she’s been to the doctor and is perfectly well. ”
“That’s wonderful,” Bridget said. “You don’t think the Henshaws will bother her there, do you?”
“No.” Claire shook her head. “Poor Iris.”
“There are new treatments for depressive states like Iris’s,” Bridget said. “Sending her to the hospital was the right thing to do.”
“I feel terrible for her, but I’m glad they’re going to Wyoming after Iris is released. I don’t want them anywhere near Jenny.” Claire pulled the plug in the sink and watched the water go down the drain. “So what is it? Is it about Dr. California?”
Bridget should have known she couldn’t put off Claire for long.
“Hey Paul,” Frannie piped up. “Take the ankle biter for a minute, would you? I need to get in on this.” She dumped Jenny in Paul’s arms and skipped into the kitchen. “Spill the beans, Bridget.”
“There’s nothing to spill about Kevin Sampson,” Bridget said.
Frannie and Claire exchanged doubtful looks.
“Is it the job in Rochester?” Frannie asked. “Did you get it?”
Bridget put her hands on her hips. “What is this? Twenty questions?”
Frannie let out a huff of impatience. “Tell us quick, before Dad comes back.”
She wasn’t going to be able to dissuade them. Her sisters knew when something was up, but they had no idea what a shock was in store.
“Bridget?” Claire was looking concerned. “Is something wrong?”
Bridget felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She might as well just come out with it. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just . . . I’m not going to the Mayo Clinic.” She really was terrible at keeping a secret. “At least not immediately.”
Frannie and Claire exchanged a questioning look, then Frannie’s eyes got big and she burst out with, “Are you getting married?”
Bridget swatted Frannie with the towel. “Of course not.” Where did she get these ideas? “I think . . .” Now she couldn’t deny the grin that broke free along with a rising bubble of excitement in her chest. “I think I might be going to . . . Hawaii.”
Claire stared at her, and for once even Frannie was speechless.
“I did get the job at the Mayo Clinic,” she explained in the silence.
“The hiring committee saw the article in the Chicago Tribune. You know, the one about Red and me riding into the canyon.” Bridget rolled her eyes.
The article was titled “Heroine on Horseback.” Partly true, but the reporter had exaggerated her role in the disaster.
“They tracked me down at the Red Cross Center to offer me the position.”
“Get to the part about Hawaii,” Frannie demanded.
Claire looked out the window. “And hurry, before they come back.”
Bridget relented. “It was the Crow—Nurse Larkin. She recommended me for the traveling nurse program. I didn’t even know she did it—but they offered me a temporary position in Honolulu.”
“Wait,” Claire interrupted. “Was this before or after you pulled the fire alarm?”
“Before.” Bridget still couldn’t believe she’d done that. Maybe that was the start of her bravery.
“Hawaii,” Claire said, her voice amazed, and Bridget felt a prickle of satisfaction at being the sister going on an adventure. “It’s just like one of your books.”
“Have you told Dad?” Frannie asked.
Bridget’s bubble of excitement dissolved. “No, but . . .” She looked down to see herself wringing the dishcloth. Dad looked like he’d aged ten years since the earthquake, how could she add to his burden by going so far away? “Maybe I shouldn’t take the job. Dad’s been through a lot.”
Claire took the towel out of her hand. “Bridget, this is something you want to do, I can tell.”
Bridget nodded, unable to answer. She really did want to do it, but . . . poor Dad. She didn’t want to see him sad.
“We’ll help you break the news.” Frannie tucked her arm through Bridget’s elbow. “It’s about time we started talking about things that are real in this family.”
Bridget wasn’t sure she was ready for that. It sounded hard. But if Claire and Frannie helped her . . . they’d had more practice with disappointing Dad.
Claire linked her arm on Bridget’s other side. “He’ll be fine.”
“He’ll have a conniption fit,” Frannie contested. “But then he’ll be fine.”
Bridget blinked as her vision got cloudy. Maybe, with her sisters beside her, she could be brave, even with Dad.
Claire looked out the window. “Here they come. Are you ready?”
Bridget felt a rush of alarm. “Right now?”
“Right now,” Claire said with an encouraging nod.
Frannie linked her arm through Bridget’s. “You bet your sweet patootie, right now.”