He turned toward the men.
"We need to document what we found before the evidence washes away."
The timber worker nodded.
"I'll make a sketch."
Another man offered to write down the observations.
Gideon looked toward the darkening valley.
The water was still dangerous.
But the lower families had been warned.
And his wife was somewhere below, helping people prepare.
He felt a sudden urgency to see her.
Lydia was carrying blankets into Ruth's front room when the door opened.
Gideon stepped inside.
His clothes were soaked.
Mud covered his boots.
His hair hung damp around his face.
For a moment, Lydia simply stared.
Then she crossed the room.
"Gideon."
He looked up.
She stopped in front of him.
"Are you hurt?"
He shook his head.
"No."
Her shoulders sagged.
She reached for him.
He opened his arms.
Lydia pressed herself against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she drew back.
"The Millers are still missing."
Gideon's expression changed.
"All four?"
"Yes."
He looked toward Ruth.
The older woman nodded.
"Two riders went toward the upper bridge."
Gideon took a breath.
"All right."
He looked toward the window.
"There's more water coming, but we opened part of the old channel."
Lydia nodded.
"Will it be enough?"
"I don't know."
She studied his face.
Then said quietly, "You did what you could."
Gideon looked at her.
She touched his wet sleeve.
"And we'll keep doing what we can."
He nodded.
For a moment, the fear between them seemed smaller than the work ahead.
The Miller family arrived after midnight.
Their wagon had become trapped on high ground when the lower road flooded.
They abandoned it and walked toward the eastern ridge, where the two riders found them.
The youngest child was cold and exhausted.
The mother had twisted her ankle.
But all four were alive.
When they entered Ruth's house, the room erupted in relieved voices.
Lydia helped the children remove their wet coats.
She brought warm blankets.
Gideon assisted the father.
Ruth prepared hot broth.
By dawn, twenty-three people were sheltering in the house and barn.
The creek remained swollen.
But the immediate danger had begun to ease.
Lydia stood near the window watching the first pale light touch the mountains.
Gideon approached carrying two cups of coffee.
He handed her one.
She smiled tiredly.
"Thank you."
He stood beside her.
For a while, they watched the sunrise.
Then Gideon looked toward the room full of sleeping families.
"You did well."
Lydia smiled.
"So did you."
He shook his head.
"I was up there moving timber."
"And I was down here making lists and soup."