Wyatt hiked through the brush away from the creek, and Greta trailed him. They passed several boulders, until at last she caught a glimpse of steam ahead. It was like the steam that wafted from a bubbling pot of soup on a cold day, with translucent fog swirling upward and disappearing into the air.

She wanted to shout out Astrid’s name and tell her to come to her immediately. But she continued behind Wyatt, who didn’t make a sound as he crept closer. The steam grew thicker, rising out of the tall grass. Behind the grassy area, the hillside was covered with more ponderosa pine, providing a shelter of sorts to the hot spring.

At a sudden chorus of barking, Wyatt paused. Was that Chase? Had he sensed their approach?

“Chase, come on, boy,” came Astrid’s worried voice. “Stay by me.”

Wyatt started forward, striding too fast for Greta to keep up. An instant later, he was holding a wiggling puppy.

“Chase!” Astrid called. “Come back here now.”

Carrying the puppy, Wyatt pushed through the grass toward the steam, breaking through and reaching what appeared to be a pond. Beneath the cloudy vapor, the water was clear and shallow, showing the rocks that formed the basin.

And there on the opposite side, submerged in water up to her shoulders, was Astrid.

Greta pressed a palm to her chest, the relief so staggering she wanted to sit down and cry.

“Hey there,” Wyatt said calmly, stroking Chase. “I think this little guy misses home.”

Astrid pushed up until she was sitting cross-legged. “W-e-l-l, he might’ve missed it, but I don’t, and I’m not going back.”

Emotion pressed for release, and Greta couldn’t hold back. “Oh yes, you are!”

Wyatt’s hand encircled hers, and his gentle squeeze stopped her tirade. He’d discarded his gloves and left them with his horse, and now his skin was warm against hers. “We sure did miss you and Chase.”

Astrid’s lips faltered at Wyatt’s declaration. Her hair was unbound and hung in wet, tangled waves over her shoulders. She wore only her shift, which revealed her pale, skinny shoulders and arms.

From what Greta could assess, the child was unharmed and hadn’t suffered in any visible way from being out in the wilderness by herself. In fact, her face had more color to it than Greta had seen in months, if not years—likely from the heat of the hot spring.

“Since we realized you took off,” Wyatt continued, “we’ve been looking for you night and day.”

“You shouldn’t have looked.” Astrid lifted her chin stubbornly.