C.J. Carmichael - A Sister Would Know

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Denise. Come on, let me take you home. Or maybe you’d like to go have a cup of coffee. We can—”

Denise shook off his hand. Spinning back to Amalie, she pointed her finger once again.

“Ramsey was a good husband until he met your sister!”

In a flash, anger became despair. Denise began to sob. Grant pulled her against his body, but his gaze stayed on Amalie.

YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE COME. Amalie read the message in Grant’s face as clearly as if he’d spoken the words.

Helena was a person, too! she wanted to cry back at both him and Denise. Her sister deserved to be mourned, deserved to be missed, deserved to be cared about.

Remembering Davin, Amalie reached for the boy and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. He was staring at the crying woman, watching as Grant urged her out the door and into his truck.

“Why does everyone hate Helena so much?” he asked finally. “Was she a bad person?”

Resentment tightened Amalie’s chest as she turned her back to the door, to the people who had just left. True, Denise was in pain, but she was a mother, too. How could she have said such things in front of Davin?

“They just didn’t know her, Davin. That’s all.” She gave him a hug and made a second, silent deduction.

And neither did I.

“YOU KNOW RAMSEY was in the middle of renovating our basement, don’t you?” Denise asked.

She’d stopped crying at last. Now she was sitting in Grant’s living room, holding the cup of tea he’d made her out of desperation. He hadn’t known where else to take her. She hadn’t wanted to go home, couldn’t face a restaurant. So he’d brought her here.

Grant was prepared for a lot of emergencies. He’d led many a search-and-rescue operation, could provide basic first aid better than many doctors and had even survived a couple of unexpected encounters with grizzly bears.

But what to do with a crying woman? That wasn’t one of his fortes.

Now he sat on the very edge of his reclining chair and thought about the question Denise asked. Of course he’d known Ramsey was finishing the basement of the house he shared with Denise and their two children, Colin and Chrissy. He’d helped Ramsey haul in a load of drywall two weekends ago.

“What am I going to do, Grant? I’ve got a half-finished basement I can’t afford to hire someone to complete, mortgage payments due every month and two children who adored their father and can’t understand why he was out skiing with a woman when he told us he was going to be working on a special assignment.”

The pain in Denise’s eyes was too naked to look at. Grant cleared his throat and glanced instead at the cup in his hand. He thought about the issues she’d raised, and picked the easiest to deal with.

“Don’t worry about money. There’ll be insurance.” Ramsey was the type to have arranged provisions for his family. Which only made his death that much more of a puzzle. What was he doing out on that mountain with Helen Fremont? Had the man totally lost his mind?

To Grant, it was incomprehensible. Especially considering the flak Ramsey had always given him about getting a wife, having some kids. Apparently, family life wasn’t as idyllic as Ramsey had made it out to be.

“I can’t believe he took her there, to the Asulkan Hut.” Denise’s mouth twisted bitterly. “That’s where we went the day he asked me to marry him. It was his special place, our special place. Whenever he had an important decision…”

She choked back a sob, took a stabilizing breath. “Did you know, Grant? That he was seeing that woman?”

He was relieved that he could honestly shake his head no. “I didn’t have a clue.”

No one had been more surprised than him to find out Helen Fremont had accompanied Ramsey to that mountain retreat. The two of them had obviously spent Saturday night together. And the ramifications were now tearing Denise apart.

Grant, too, felt betrayed. Ramsay had lied to him, as well as to Denise, concealing a relationship that went against every principle the young doctor had presumably believed in.

“Who’s going to take Colin to his hockey games now?” Denise asked, more tears pooling in her eyes. “My car needs an oil change—Ramsey was supposed to do that last weekend….”

Grant’s impulse was to tell her he would do all these chores. He’d finish the basement; he’d drive Colin to his games; he’d service the cars and do whatever else had to be done. After all, he’d been Ramsey’s closest friend. Ramsey would expect him to help his family. And Grant would be happy to do so.

But something told him Denise was looking for more than a handyman to help pick up the pieces. She needed emotional support, a confidant. He wasn’t so sure he could fit that role. Watching her cry now was so hard. He just didn’t know what to say.

“Is your tea sweet enough? Can I get you anything to eat?” In the freezer he had some miniature pizzas he could heat in the microwave.

“The tea is fine. I’m not hungry.” Denise leaned closer toward him, setting her cup down on the plank table between them.

“You’ve been such a good friend, Grant. I really appreciate having your shoulder to cry on. I can’t talk to the kids, obviously, and my parents are too old for me to burden with my heartache. I told them Ramsey was skiing with someone from work. Fortunately, they haven’t heard any of the gossip that must be circulating around town.”

While Grant had cautioned the initial rescue party to keep details of the situation private, he had to agree that there would be talk anyway. It was unavoidable in a town the size of Revelstoke.

“Seeing her sister this afternoon at the center—for a moment I thought it was Helen. That she’d somehow survived.”

“I know. I had the same reaction when she came into the office yesterday.” The resemblance was uncanny. And yet, already he’d stopped seeing Helen when he looked at Amalie. There was a difference, in the way she carried herself, the way she spoke….

Much as he’d been predisposed to dislike the woman, it was impossible. She had a certain dignity that made him feel guilty whenever he said something particularly harsh about her sister. Still, she claimed she wanted the truth about Helen, so he wasn’t about to sugarcoat the facts.

“You’ve told her it’s too dangerous to recover the b-bodies?”

“I have.”

“Then she’ll be leaving soon?”

The look in Denise’s eyes was almost pleading. Grant wished he could reassure her. “I can’t say. My impression is she plans to stay until we can go in there.”

“But that could be weeks, even months!”

Grant shrugged. He realized that. But what could he do?

Denise’s gaze slid off to the side, her mouth set in a bitter line.

“I’m sorry for all you’re going through, Denise. You and the kids meant the world to Ramsey. I know you did. Helen…” Grant cast his eyes about the room, searching for words that never came easily in the best of circumstances.

“She was nothing, compared with you and the kids,” he said finally. “Ramsey would have straightened out. I’m sure he would’ve.”

“For me right now, that’s the hardest part. Not knowing if Ramsey really did love me. How am I supposed to mourn a man who was cheating on me, Grant? Can you tell me that?”

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t tell her that.

Denise was crying again, behind cover of her hands. Feeling awkward, Grant moved closer and stroked her shoulder. Before he knew it, her face was tucked against his chest, her arms were clutching him desperately. The sobs came out so harshly now he was afraid she might get sick.