Clara touched her hand.
"We're getting help."
The mother looked toward the window.
"Everything is so far away."
Clara followed her gaze.
The mountains loomed beyond the snow.
She had lived among them all her life.
She loved their beauty.
But sometimes she hated how completely they could separate people from the help they needed.
By evening, Dr. Avery reached the cabin with a ranch hand who had guided him through the safer southern trail.
He examined Benjamin.
Listened to his chest.
Asked questions.
Then looked toward the mother.
The boy needed careful monitoring, supportive care, and the limited treatments available in that place and time.
The doctor remained with the family for several hours.
Clara provided a warm room, clean linens, and food for the exhausted adults.
When the doctor finally emerged from the sleeping area, she approached.
"How is he?"
Avery rubbed his tired eyes.
"Still very ill."
Clara's heart sank.
The doctor looked toward the stove.
"But his mother did right to bring him somewhere warm and seek help early."
Clara nodded.
"Is there anything else we can do?"
"Keep the room quiet. Help the family rest. And make certain I hear immediately if his breathing worsens."
She agreed.
That night, Clara slept in a chair near the kitchen.
Every time Benjamin coughed, she woke.
And for the first time since the storm began, the danger felt larger than empty flour sacks.
Hunger was not the only enemy winter brought.
On Widow's Ridge, the rescue party discovered that Nathan's description had been accurate.
The main road was buried beneath enormous slabs of rock and packed snow.
A section of the outer bank had collapsed into a steep ravine.
There was no safe route for wagons through the obstruction.
Caleb studied the slope.
Then looked toward Jonas.
"What do you think?"
The former miner shook his head.
"Wouldn't put a horse on that in spring, let alone now."
Caleb nodded.
Daniel Finch looked toward the eastern side.
"The wagons are just over there."
"Near doesn't mean reachable," Caleb said.
They examined the old upper trail.
Its lower section was sheltered by trees.
But the highest crossing lay beneath an exposed face where fresh snow had accumulated.
Caleb stopped before entering it.
He crouched.
Studied the snow.
Then looked toward the men.
"We aren't crossing that."
Daniel stared.
"But the wagons—"
"We can signal them from here."
"What if they don't see us?"
"Then we'll try another position."
Jonas nodded.
"He's right."
Daniel looked toward the ridge.
His face tightened.
Then he nodded reluctantly.
They climbed to a safer outcrop.
Caleb tied a red cloth to a long branch.
He raised it above his head and waved.
Across the blocked pass, a thin thread of smoke moved between the trees.
For several minutes, nothing happened.
Then a figure appeared.
Small at first.
Almost indistinguishable against the snow.
A man stood beside one of the wagons.
He raised both arms.
Caleb felt relief spread through him.
"Alive."
Daniel nodded.