The current carried branches and chunks of ice.
Crossing would risk both his life and his horse.
He stared toward the far bank.
For a moment, he felt the old temptation to ignore danger and prove himself stronger than the weather.
Then he remembered the woman's voice.
Don't go into that storm.
He looked toward the mountains.
Then turned back.
He would not make her wait forever because he'd been foolish enough to drown trying to return one day sooner.
He went home.
But waiting was agony.
At the woman's cabin, the rain was causing problems of its own.
The repaired roof remained secure.
The central floor supports held.
But water began collecting near the lower storage room.
The ground beneath one side of the cabin had softened, and a narrow drainage channel beside the wall was partially blocked with debris.
She noticed the problem before it became severe.
During previous springs, water had sometimes collected there, but never in such quantity.
She examined the area from the doorway.
Then she returned inside.
Her mobility made clearing the outer channel herself impractical, especially in the mud.
But she could plan.
She checked the slope.
She remembered where the old drainage route had once carried water.
Then she found the plans she and the rancher had drawn.
The proposed wider emergency exit lay near the strongest section of the cabin.
They had not yet built it.
She stared at the drawing.
For several minutes, she considered what she could do safely.
Then she began preparing.
She moved important papers into waterproof containers.
She placed food and warm clothing near the central room.
She checked that the interior rails were secure.
And she rearranged a small portion of her belongings so that she could reach the supplies she might need if water entered the lower section.
She refused to panic.
She had survived many winters before meeting the rancher.
She would not abandon her knowledge simply because she now had someone who loved her.
But as the rain continued, she wished desperately that he were there.
Three more days passed.
Then four.
The rancher still had not returned.
She knew the roads might be flooded.
She knew the mountains could delay him.
But fear began whispering that perhaps he had reached his empty house and discovered he preferred it that way.
Perhaps he had remembered his wife.
Perhaps he had decided that life with a woman whose body demanded so much planning would be too difficult.