Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“You can wait. Check on the other animals.”
I shift into reverse, spewing mud from under the wheel, and turn the wheel before punching it.
“Pris? Wait,” he calls. “I’ll go—” His words are swallowed in the storm.
I hear the “fuck” before I look in the side mirror to see him boiling over in rage. Even through the thick rain pounding around us, the red of his face and fisted hands at his side are as clear as day.
The last time she ran, she headed to the lower pasture just inside the woods and brush closer to the river. I skid when I leave the gravel and cut through mud that splats over my boots and the bottom of my dress.
We spend most of the year in different stages of drought, so when the storms hit, we welcome them. But I probably should have looked at the forecast before deciding to wear white today.
It’s bumpy, and the wet fabric under me slides against the vinyl seat. I hold the wheel tighter as I cover the rest of the acres. I shift into park and jump out. “Sunrise?” I call over and over as I weave between the trees. It’s darker under the canopy of aspens, oaks, loblolly pines, and cedars. I stop, my intuition warning me not to go any farther. “Sunrise?”
I look back toward the UTV, not realizing I had gone so deep into the woods. After calling for her a few more times, I jog back with my senses on high alert.
Ducking beside the truck when lightning cracks too close for comfort, I hop in and drive the perimeter, hoping to avoid drawing attention from the angry sky. But I don’t see her, and she doesn’t tend to wander far if she’s thinking clearly. But who knows with the storm rushing her veins.
The property is too vast to cover in a timely way. I’m drenched to the bone and cold from driving against the rain and winds. I’ll have to trust she makes her way back because I’ll be devastated if she doesn’t.
I cut back in front of the equipment barn and keep on the gravel road, but I catch a flash of something out of the corner of my eye. Looking right, Sunrise is running through the cabbage patch and toward the taller cornfields. She must be turned around and lost. “Sunrise?” I call at the top of my lungs, but she’s running too fast away from me.
I’ll reach the cornfield faster by cutting through the other patches than going around. The truck doesn’t go very fast anyway, not when I need it to, so I park and start on foot.
She moves too fast to keep up with, so there’s no use in calling. I save my voice and just keep running. When I reach the edges of the tall field, I stop one row inside and look to my right and then left. Evening has fallen, and it makes it harder to see any distance. The rain makes it worse, so I pause to listen instead.
Closing my eyes, I listen for any change from the rustling of leaves to the sound of her hooves hitting the mud between the rows. I can’t hear anything other than water pummeling the earth.
I push through some rows, weave down some aisles, and finally come out on the other side. The field is too big to search, and it’s almost too dark to be out here. I drop my head, exhausted as frustration in my failure clouds my head.
This is pointless. I need to get back. Tagger was right. We need to just wait it out. Or hope she returns before then.
When I open my eyes, my breath chokes in my throat as tears swarm the corners of my eyes. There, on the edge of the field, under the wide canopy of an oak tree, Sunrise stands near the trunk.
“Sunrise.” I walk toward her with my hand out, being careful not to frighten her into running again. She stays, not seeming to want to run. I stroke her from the forehead to her muzzle, then lean my head against her. “Good girl.”
I don’t have a phone, so there’s no way to contact Tagger. The leaves block a lot of the harsher raindrops, but they still trickle down. I stand beside her for a long while before eventually sitting at the base of the tree trunk. When Sunrise shifts closer, a little less rain reaches me. The bond we built over the years has only grown stronger. I searched for her because I was worried. Look at her now, protecting me.
The dress is ruined, but I’ve already given up on it surviving this harsh weather. No light reaches where we are except when lightning rips across the sky, and the clouds hide the moon and stars. I’m exhausted, so it’s tempting to close my eyes. Maybe just for a minute. It’s not like I can sleep in the middle of a storm when I’m wet and cold and covered in mud.