Big Man’s Claim, Wylder, Penny [accelerated reader books TXT] 📗

can hear the birds chirping in the trees and squirrels as they leap from branch to branch. Buttercup bolts by me, darting up the trail with a big doggie smile on his face.

“Slow down, Boy!” I call out after him. He stops, wagging his tail and waiting for me to catch up.

Just as I get about twenty yards up the trail, I start to hear the light patter of rain drops hitting the treetops and feel them splash against my arm. Stopping short, I hold out my arms, watching the rain splatter off my palms.

“Great,” I say out loud, looking down at my dog. “The weatherman lied.”

The weatherman claimed this weekend was going to be perfect. The giant gray cloud passing overhead as I look up says he obviously didn't know what the hell he was talking about. All summer it's been muggier and hotter than usual, and the rain has been coming down in sheets nonstop.

Pressing on, I'm determined not to let the rain get to me. There's a beautiful meadow right next to a crystal clear river that I'm going to get to. It's my favorite spot. I found it about a year ago, not long after my father passed away. And it's perfect. I’ve been dreaming all summer of getting away to this exact spot. A little rain won’t stop me.

The hike there is long. About eight or nine hours depending how quick I go. But this rain won't slow me down at all, in fact, it cools me off a bit and I find I have a fresh burst of energy. Clicking my tongue for Buttercup to follow, we head up the trail together.

He's at my side, sniffing the ground, but keeping up with me. We walk in the serene silence of the forest. It's soothing, blanketing me in a calm I can only find here. The rain constantly falls, mostly lightly, but at times in drenching sheets.

A light sweat begins to trickle down the back of my neck, and my shirt starts to stick to my skin. Stopping for a break, I sit on a fallen log and pull a bottle of water out of my pack. Checking my phone, I see we’ve hiked for over two hours already.

And I have two messages from Ryder already. Shaking my head to myself, I tuck my phone away. I promised him I'll be safe, but I promised myself that this trip was for me. I'm not texting or calling anyone. It defeats the purpose of all of this. To spend time with just me. Well, and Buttercup, but he doesn’t talk too much.

Looking up at the sky, I can see the blue glow through the thick treetops. The rain is still coming down, but the air is a little thinner now that the humidity is almost gone. But it doesn't save me from the heat. It's still hot as hell.

Wiping the back of my hand across my forehead, I press on, determined to get to the valley before dark. Digging my heels into the soft ground, I hike up the side of the mountain, following the trail back down and around the corner.

The sound of rushing water quickly fills the air. Turning the bend, the normally calm river is a rush of rapids from the recent rain. White caps topple over dark waves, crashing against the rocks and fallen trees.

Stopping, I watch it for a moment. For all its violent surges, the sound is soothing. My mind begins to wander with thoughts about my life. There's so much I want, but I constantly feel trapped.

I might be young, but I've always known that one day I would want a family of my own. I want to fall in love, get swept off my feet, become a mother. Watching Ryder and Jenna only fuels that desire more.

Maybe I'm naive. I have my whole life ahead of me, but it feels like I’ve already hit a wall. Ryder wants me to go to college, to make something of myself, and follow my dreams.

My dreams. . . What good is dreaming if the world is against you?

Both my parents are gone, my brother is moving on with his life, and here I am not knowing where I belong in the mix.

Buttercup nudges me with his nose, knocking me out of the trance I'm in. “All right, come on, let's keep moving.”

The ground turns from soft to squishy. My feet slip over the slick mud as I try to balance on the narrow strip of land between the mountain and the water. Pressing my back against the rock wall, I take small steps.

Water is splashing against my ankles and boots as the waves angrily crash in front of me. Stopping for a second, I squint as I try to focus on the trail. It widens up ahead, which is a relief.

Taking another step forward, my heel slides as the ground crumbles beneath my feet. Throwing out my hand, I try to grab on to something, but it's useless. All the rain has weakened and saturated the earth, leaving it like quicksand under my feet.

Hitting the icy cold water, I inhale a sharp, shallow breath. I'm taken under in an instant as my pack soaks up the rushing water like a sponge. Kicking my legs, I frantically move my arms, trying to reach for something. A rock. A root. Anything to grab hold to and stop myself from being sucked down the river. Something to push against so I can get to the surface.

The water is too strong, and it’s tossing me around like a rag doll. But I don't give up. I kick and I swim, trying to hold my breath and not inhale big gulps of water. My face breaks the surface for the briefest moment.

Buttercup is barking, chasing me down the river. Gasping for air, I'm instantly dragged back under as a rolling rapid steals me away again. My hands are clawing for something, anything at all to latch