“Not too bad. But in an hour? I don’t think I’d make it, let alone if I stay any longer.”
“Do you have room at your house for Margery?”
“I was thinking about that earlier,” Ellen said. They could always make room, even if she had to put the kids on the floor in the family room. “If Margery goes into labor and Rock Creek floods, she won’t be getting out for a couple days. I’ll bring her to my place and keep an eye on her.”
“Is there any chance your property will be flooded? I hear the rain isn’t going to let up until tonight.”
“The farm is at risk, but our house is raised—we’ll be okay. We have plenty of food if we’re trapped for a couple days.” She really hoped it didn’t come to that.
“Call me later and let me know how she’s doing.”
“Thanks, Ron.”
Ellen ended the call, then turned to find Susie standing in the doorway.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Susie said. “Is Margery going to be okay?”
Ellen wanted to reassure her, even though she couldn’t make promises. Still, Margery was young and healthy, and the baby’s heartbeat was strong.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Ellen said. “But, like I said to Dr. Patel, if Rock Creek floods, you’ll both be trapped here. If Margery wasn’t pregnant, it wouldn’t be a big deal—you have food and a generator. But now? It could stress her, and stress could cause her blood pressure to spike.”
“Are you sure you can get through to your house? I mean, you can stay here, we have plenty of room.”
“If we leave soon, we’ll get through. Go pack a suitcase for you and your sister. I’ll explain everything to Margery.”
“No,” Susie said. “I’m staying. I can’t leave the animals, especially if the road floods and we can’t get back up here. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I trust you to keep my sister safe.”
Ellen smiled and squeezed her arm to reassure her as they walked back inside.
“I’ll pack her bag,” Susie said and went down the hall to the bedrooms.
Margery looked up from where she lay on the couch, concern and confusion on her face. Ellen sat next to her and explained everything Dr. Patel had said, and that there was more than enough room at her house for Margery.
Margery was surprisingly calm about it; in fact, she seemed relieved, which told Ellen that this was the right choice.
Ten minutes later, Ellen eased her truck down the steep, muddy driveway. Rain lashed the windshield in relentless sheets of water, the wipers barely keeping up. The roughly paved, part gravel single lane turned to a slick ribbon as Ellen navigated the narrow road. Cypress and pine towered above them on each side. Margery sat beside her, one hand resting protectively on her belly, the other clutching the handle above the door, her knuckles white.
The entrance to the recreation area to the east, that spread from the road to the river, was blocked off with a rusty gate. There were so many trails and wonderful day trips to hike in this area, many with stunning views of the river, but today the paths would be dangerous and mudslides into the river a real threat.
They continued down the road and Ellen was able to pick up the pace a bit as it both widened and straightened and turned from mostly gravel to mostly paved. Moments later, as the trees parted, Rock Creek came into view.
Here, Rock Creek was more an inlet off the Red River, a wide branch that ended at the raised road, shored up by large rocks. It was a pretty good fishing spot, according to Travis, though Ellen wasn’t one for fishing. She didn’t have the patience.
Rock Creek was massively swollen. When she arrived less than ninety minutes ago, it had been moving swiftly beneath the road through a concrete culvert. Now, the water had risen threefold, a churning brown mass that had spread wide. The banks had long since vanished, trees emerging from the water along the edge. It frothed and surged, touching the road.
The culvert was no longer enough to channel the creek. Water pooled and roiled as it funneled into the narrow pipe, and theoverflow surged toward the edge of the pavement, mere feet from breaching the roadbed. The roar of the water thundered through the closed windows.
“Oh my God, Ellen!” Margery gasped, her voice high and tight. “Are we going to make it?”
“Yes.” Ellen didn’t let herself blink. “It hasn’t topped the road. We’re going now. Remember what Dr. Patel said—remain calm, Margery. Youhaveto stay calm.”
But her own hands were clammy, gripping the steering wheel too tightly. She eased her truck forward. The tires slipped slightly on the wet incline, and she instinctively let off the gas. Then gently, slowly, she guided them toward the crossing.
The bridge was nothing more than a wide cement slab laid across the culvert—a country solution across virtually all the creeks in their valley. Here, it was raised and strengthened because Rock Creek often rose.
