As she tossed on her bed, the thought of Marian crossed her mind. Karl hadn’t mentioned her name in days, yet her pretty face still troubled Judy. Jealous! Of course not! That was over and done with. “Jealousy was degrading,” she muttered into the pillow, turning it for the tenth time. It was good to feel cleansed and serene. But a sweet and consoling thought lulled her to sleep. The words repeated themselves like a lullaby: “Marian would soon return to Chicago. Soon, soon—the sooner, the better!”
“Judy, you’re a fine one to depend on! I thought you’d be up at dawn.” It was her father, fully dressed, ready for their trip.
They reached the trail long ahead of the scheduled time. During the half-hour wait the crystal-clear air gave Judy such an appetite that she consumed a sandwich and was nibbling on a hard boiled egg when her father rescued what remained of her lunch and replaced it in his knapsack.
At the sound of a motor Judy jumped up, “Here they are!”
A beautiful, shiny, black convertible roared toward them, swung into the brush and came to a stop. She stared at it. Every car in Aspen was laden with weeks of dust. No one they knew ever bothered to clean a car that would get just as dusty an hour later.
Fran stepped out of the car and walked toward them. His face was shining, his heavy boots were laced to the knees, and a coil of rope and knapsack were jauntily slung over his shoulder.
“Where’s Karl?” Judy asked as he came nearer.
“He’s here. Like a real gentleman, he’s helping the lady.”
“The lady?” Judy repeated stupidly, her eyes fixed on the car.
Yes! There she was walking with Karl, a hand on his arm, a dainty figure in dark blue jeans, a cap to match and a bright red sweater. It couldn’t be—No!—that was impossible!