“Yes, ma'am, I do.”
“Oh, dear.” She scanned the bookshelves. “My husband's notes. I can't leave years of work behind.” She looked at Will. “I must take Steward's notes. I won't leave without them.”
“All right, but we'll have to hurry. Show us what to take.”
Jessie walked to the closest bookshelf. “Some of them are on the top here. Can you reach them?”
He hurried to the bookshelf, grabbed down a box full of papers, and handed it to Laurel. “Put it in the truck and lay the tarp over it. I'll get the rest down.”
“The stacks of papers have to go too,” Jessie said. “And there are more boxes over there.” She nodded at a bookcase on the opposite wall.
Will handed Jessie a box. “Do you have something we can put the papers in?”
She thought a moment. “Well, I think I've got a couple of apple crates out back. I'll be right back.” She hurried outside.
He lifted down boxes and set them on the floor. Laurel reappeared. “Can you take two at a time?”
“Sure.” Laurel picked up one box, and Will set another on top of it. Staggering a bit under the weight, Laurel hurried out the door.
Jessie returned, carrying two apple boxes. Her hair was wet, plastered to her head and forehead. “Will this do?”
“Perfect.” Will picked up a box filled with folders. “I'll take these while you fill the others with the loose papers.” He placed a second box on top of the one he already carried and headed out the door.
Laurel passed him. “I think the storm's getting worse.”
“Just hurry,” he said and kept moving.
Laurel ran into the house, feeling her panic grow. “Are there many more? Daddy says we have to hurry.”
“Only a few, dear,” Jessie said, grabbing another stack of papers and setting them in the box.
Laurel stooped and picked up another container of notes.
“Do be careful, please. These are important.”
“I will,” Laurel promised, wondering what possessions could be of such consequence this woman would risk her life to save them.
“How many more?” Will asked, walking back into the house.
“Just those,” Jessie said, nodding at four small crates.
Picking up one, Will set it on top of the box Laurel held. “I'll take care of the rest. You get her to the truck.”
Laurel followed Jessie, trying to hurry the old woman.
“Oh, dear, some of these are going to get wet,” Jessie said. “I hope the ink doesn't run. I might not be able to decipher my husband's writing. I've been planning on getting these in order for years. Now I wish I had.”
Laurel set the boxes in the back of the truck, covered them with the tarp, and hustled Jessie into the cab. Will returned with two more, then ran back inside for the last one.
A very pregnant woman and two small children ran toward the truck from the other house. She looked as if she'd been crying. A man, whom Laurel guessed to be her husband, followed with a toddler in his arms. Drew carried what looked like a stack of photograph albums. Luke had a box of dishes, and Jason followed, toting a box with a lid.
“All right, everybody climb in,” Drew said, setting the albums in the truck bed.
The woman climbed in beside Jessie, and the man handed the toddler to her. Then he lifted the other children into the back and climbed in beside them, holding them close. Luke set the box of dishes next to Jessie's boxes and clambered in. Handing up his carton, Jason sat on a hub opposite Luke.
“We better get moving!” Drew called over pounding rain and gusting wind. “The river's rising fast! Where's your father?” he asked Laurel.
Before she could answer, Will walked out of the house carrying the last of the boxes. “That's it,” he called, nearly running. “Let's get out of here!”
“Oh, dear, I forgot about Albert,” Jessie said, climbing out the driver's side of the truck. “I can't leave him here.” She walked toward the house, calling in a high voice, “Albert. Come on, Albert.” A longhaired, multicolored cat ran out of the bushes and rubbed against Jessie's ankles. “Oh, there you are.” She picked him up and cuddled him against her.
Will ran to the woman. “Come on! We've got to hurry!” He circled his arm around her small shoulders and hustled her toward the truck. “Get in!”
The other woman scooted in, and Jessie settled on the seat next to her. Resting her free hand on Will's arm, she said, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“You're welcome.” Will smiled. Drew slid in behind the wheel, and Will slammed the door. He helped Laurel into the back, then climbed in behind her. “Let's go!” he called, pounding on the roof.
Laurel sat in the corner next to the cab, opposite the man and his children.
He smiled. “Name's Bruce Miller. These are my girls, Sally and Lucy. Thanks for your help.”
Laurel nodded. “Laurel Hasper. Nice to meet you.” She was soaked through and shivering hard. She stared at the river. Water flowed over the bank!
The going was painfully slow as they wallowed through mud and runoff from the wild Matanuska. Another truck loaded with people and possessions fell in behind them.
Adam stood in the back, peering over the cab. Laurel barely recognized him in his drenched state. He smiled at her. She didn't know why, but somehow his presence made her feel less afraid.
With each passing minute more water washed over the muddy road. Lord, protect us. Please help us get home, Laurel prayed. What would they do if the bridge had washed away? She peered around the side of the cab, trying to get a view of the crossing. It stood amid a violent, muddy deluge.