The Journey Home (4 page)

His dad's shape loomed over him. “Jake?”

“Huh?” Jake mumbled.

Then Jake remembered the anguished whining. “Is Cody all right?”

Jake felt his dad wrap something around him. Then strong arms lifted him to his feet. He walked as best he could, drifting in and out of reality, tripping over rocks and tree roots. He caught glimpses of the forest and sky, and vaguely heard his father and brother talking, but it
was like he was walking through a dream—a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

Jake opened his eyes to find himself in bed. A Clark's nutcracker called from somewhere outside.

“Taylor?” he mumbled.

“Jake!”

Taylor had been rocking back and forth in Abe's rocking chair but now instantly hurried over to the bed. Cody beat him to it. The terrier hopped up next to Jake and began licking his cheek and ears.

“Easy, boy,” Jake moaned.

“Jake, are you okay?” Taylor asked, perching on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“I feel like someone used me for a piñata.” He blinked sore eyes. “Is it dark yet?”

Taylor laughed. “Jake, it's
morning
. You slept the whole night.”

Jake could feel that something was wrong with his leg. He pulled back the quilt. His ankle had been bound tight with a soft leather wrap.

“Don't you remember? A coyote bit you. Me and Dad cleaned it up and made a wrap with the balsamroot medicine. Dad scared the coyotes away,” Taylor told him. “And Cody helped.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Jake said, scratching Cody around the neck and ears. “I owe you one.”

“Dad's butchering your deer out front,” Taylor said. “You remember the deer, right?”

Jake nodded.

Taylor gently punched him in the shoulder. “Awesome shot, Jake.”

“Ouch.” Jake rubbed his shoulder.

“Sorry. Want some more aspirin?”

“Yeah. And water.”

While Taylor went to fetch them, Jake closed his eyes and tried to relax. He couldn't. His ankle throbbed. Weren't you meant to get a shot from a doctor when a wild animal bit you? All he had was an arrowleaf balsamroot poultice. Medicine he'd boiled up himself.

“What are we
doing
out here?” he whispered to himself.

I could have died. Those coyotes could have torn my throat out. If Taylor and Dad hadn't gotten there right then . . .

“Here you go.” Taylor was back, with a cup of water and the aspirin. Jake swallowed them down.

“Taylor,” he asked, handing the cup back to his brother, “do you ever wonder if we did the right thing coming here?”

Taylor looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Jake chose his words carefully. “I mean, it's great to be with Dad again, and it's cool to live somewhere so beautiful, but . . .”

“But what?”

Jake sighed. “I mean, this life is crazy. Look at everything
we've had to deal with. The bobcat, running out of water, and now coyotes? How long before something really bad happens and we can't get to a hospital because we're out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Dad knows what he's doing. He'll keep us safe.”

Jake sank back down, feeling worse than ever. When he'd first come here, he'd felt free. For the first time in his life, he could run anywhere he wanted—there were no fences, no rules. Now those summer days were gone, the winter was drawing in, and he felt like a prisoner.

“We're going to be stuck here all winter,” he said.

“Well,
I
like it here,” said Taylor. “Dad's fun.”

“What about Mom?” Jake asked softly. “What do you think she'd say if she knew we were living like this?”

The corners of Taylor's mouth sagged.

Jake squeezed his brother's shoulder.

“We didn't even get to say good-bye . . .” Taylor said.

Then his lips pressed together, and his eyes shifted away. At first Jake thought he was crying. But he wasn't. It was Taylor's scheming face.

“What is it?”

Taylor's eyes met his. “I know we can't bring Mom back,” he said, “but . . .”

“What?”

“I found something that might help.”

“Spit it out already,” Jake said.

“Remember in the store, when Dad said he had a phone?
Well, while I was digging through the first aid chest for the aspirin, I found it.”

Jake sat up straighter. “Seriously?”

“
Seriously
.” Taylor hurried to the first aid chest. Moments later he lifted out a large handset and brought it over to Jake. Cody sniffed at it and backed away, unimpressed.

“Geez,” Jake said, feeling the weight of the phone, “it looks like one of those giant cell phones you see in old movies.”

“I thought if Mom's answering machine is still turned on, we could, y'know, listen to her voice one more time.”

“Let's try it,” Jake said instantly. He had to do this quickly before he changed his mind. He took a deep breath and flipped the on switch above the number pad. A spluttering red light flicked into life.

Heart racing, Jake punched in the numbers he knew by heart. The earpiece popped and clicked like a broken-down radio.

“Sorry, Taylor. I don't think it's going to go through.”

More clicks. Then he heard another sound. A ringing.

“It's ringing!” Jake said, and pressed the phone to his ear.

Taylor lifted Cody out of the way and huddled in as close as he could.

Heads together, they listened to the line ring. Jake knew what he'd hear next.
The number you are calling is not in service. Please hang up and dial again.

The ringing tone stopped. Silence. And then:

“Hi, this is Jennifer Wilder. I'm not home right now . . .”

Jake and Taylor sat like rabbits in headlights, unable to breathe, listening to their mom's voice. For some reason the old answering machine was still working. Jake silently thanked whatever power had made that happen.

“It's like she's alive,” Taylor whispered.

Jake's throat tightened. They listened to the entire message, all the way to the beep.

Taylor mouthed the words,
Should we say something?

Jake shook his head.

There's no point. Mom's gone,
Jake thought.

Just as Jake was about to hang up, however, he heard faint words coming from the earpiece.

“Wait. I'm here,” the voice said. “Don't hang up.”

Jake quickly raised the phone back to his ear, his heart galloping wildly.

“Hello?” he asked cautiously.

“Hello?” came the other voice again. “Who is this?”

“MOM?” Jake and Taylor shouted together.

“Jake! Taylor! Is that you?”

The phone crackled, but there was no doubt who the voice on the other end belonged to.

“Mom! It's us!” Jake shouted. “You're alive!”

5
“Oh my God!” Jennifer cried on the other end. “Are you okay?”

“We're fine!” Jake burst out. “Mom, you're okay. I can't believe it!”

“Of course I am, honey! I've been worried
sick.
When I woke up in the hospital and you weren't there . . .”

Jake thought back a few months to when Bull had put their mom in the hospital. They'd known they had to get out of there.

“Where are you boys?”

Breathe,
Jake told himself. He forced himself to calm down. “We're in Wyoming with Dad.”

“You're WHAT? Jake, did you just say ‘Wyoming'?”

“YES! We came out here, and . . . Mom, we're sorry we left. We had to.”

“Bull said you were dead!” Taylor howled. “We never should've believed him!”

There was silence for a second. Then their mom asked, “Have you heard from Bull?”

“No,” Jake said quickly. “We don't know where he is. He could be anywhere.”

“Jake, please!” There was worry in Jennifer's voice, but she sounded more determined than Jake had heard for years. “If you know anything about where he is, don't be afraid to tell me.”

“Mom, I'm telling the truth. We haven't heard from him. We don't know anything.”

The boys heard static, then the words “Bull . . . missing . . . money?”

Jake felt a fresh wave of panic. The ancient phone was cutting out.

“What, Mom? What did you say?” Jake pleaded. “I can't hear you!”

“Bull's friends keep asking where he is,” their mom said, her voice frantic. “Well, not exactly friends. I think I'm in a lot of trouble. . . .”

“You don't have to worry about Bull anymore!” Taylor shouted happily, drowning out their mom's words. Jake managed not to shove him off the bed, but only just. He
made a throat-cutting gesture at Taylor. Taylor nodded, wide-eyed, his mouth clamped shut.

“What do you mean, Mom?” Jake almost shouted. “What kind of trouble?”

There was a long pause, and Jake worried that the line had cut out. But then he heard a terrified whisper:

“
Bull's boss says he's going to shoot me!
”

Jake reeled back, as if hit by a bolt of lightning. He knew what he had to do, and the words were out before he had a chance to stop them.

“We're coming, Mom.”

“No!” Jennifer yelled. “Stay with your dad! You can't come. It's too—”

And right then the connection died.

Jake looked at the phone. The red power light was dark. Frantically he pressed the power button, but it was no use.

Jake and Taylor stared at each other for a second. Then they rushed outside to find their dad.

Jake forgot all about his injured ankle. He could have been walking on air.

“Dad!” Taylor shouted. “It's Mom! She's okay. She's home!”

“What?” Abe asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “What do you mean?”

“Mom,” Jake said. “She's alive. And she's home! She's okay!”

Abe froze. “Boys, that's not funny. There are some things you just don't joke about.”

“No joke,” said Taylor. “We just talked to her on your phone. We wanted to hear her voice,” Taylor continued. “So we called our old number and got the message machine. And then she picked up!”

Abe put down the tools he was using to work on the deer. “You're sure?” he asked incredulously. “One hundred percent sure it was her?”

“Positive,” Jake said. “The connection was bad, and then the battery went dead, but not before we got to talk.”

Abe looked from Taylor to Jake. A stunned smile crept across his face. His eyes lit up like Jake had never seen. “And what did she say? Is she okay?”

“We told her we were here with you and that we were fine. But, Dad, she said she's in a lot of trouble,” Jake said.

Taylor blurted out, “Bull's boss is going to kill her!”

Abe suddenly darkened. “Slow down. Tell me exactly what she said.”

Jake filled his dad in on the whole conversation and watched as he went through a lifetime of emotions—happy that Jennifer was okay, but disturbed at the dark turn her life had taken.

“I can't believe it,” Abe muttered, unable to take it all in, pulling Jake and Taylor into a protective hug. “I know you must be worried, boys. I am too. But the most important thing is that she's alive. It looks like this Thanksgiving we've got a lot to be thankful for.”

6
The rest of the afternoon the boys helped prepare a feast while Abe finished butchering the deer. The main course would be roast venison with wild onions, carrots, and potatoes, along with steamed wild asparagus they'd harvested earlier in the season. For dessert, wild berry cobbler cooked in a Dutch oven.

Jake hadn't cooked anything fancy at home in Pittsburgh, so he couldn't wait to show his mom how much he'd learned. He glanced at the table and thought,
We'll need another chair soon.
He grinned. Soon Mom would be here with them, safe from harm.

Taylor was still bubbling over from the phone call. “Don't you think Mom's going to love it out here?” he asked
Jake, for what must have been the eighteenth time that hour. “We'll be a family again!”

Jake hacked an onion in half. “We need to keep her safe. That's all that matters.”

Taylor nodded, thinking it over. “The guys looking for Bull must be the ones who hired him to do the job he messed up.”

“Probably,” Jake said, remembering the horrible fight they'd witnessed several months ago. Bull had fought with a man who had come to get back money . . . there was a shot . . . Jake and Taylor had taken the money when they'd fled to Wyoming.

“Dad will know what to do. If we set off tomorrow, we can get Mom back here before the snows come,” Taylor said.

Abe crashed in through the door, his arms full of firewood. A blast of icy air followed him in. He turned around and kicked the door shut, then dumped the wood down by the stove.