Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Oh look, another bullet point to add to the list of things a father should worry about…
We reached our campsite just as the sun was beginning its descent across the sky, leaving us plenty of time to get set up. I’d reserved the site a year ago; a shady section of flat, mostly cleared land in a patch of forest, nestled between two small meadows and a stream—perfect spots for spying on wildlife. Willow and I worked together to erect our pop-up tents a good distance from the designated food-prep and storage areas. Afterward, Willow went to look for kindling on the edge of camp while I rearranged the heavy logs around the firepit and cleared away the debris. She returned with an armful of small twigs and dry leaves for kindling, laying her bounty on the ground near the pit before announcing that she was going to look for firewood.
“Don’t go too far,” I told her.
“I won’t. Promise.”
I continued setting up the campsite while periodically scanning for Willow’s silhouette among the trees. All of the campsites along the trail employed a Leave No Trace policy for trash. Everything carried into the park must be carried out. I secured a plastic bag to a tree for our garbage and filled a collapsible bucket with dirt, just in case we needed to quickly smother the fire for any reason.
When I scanned the trees again, I didn’t see Willow.
“Willow,” I called out, my voice bouncing off the trees. “Willow, where are you?”
No response. My heart rate kicked into overdrive as I made a beeline for the last place I had spotted her. Panic seized my throat. She wasn’t there. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a crow took off from a nearby tree branch with a blaring caw.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I was breathing so heavily that I almost missed the trill of feminine laughter.
“Jesus, Dad. What did that crow do to you?” Willow stepped out from between two pine trees, her arms loaded with firewood. The sight of her safe and sound sent a flood of relief through my bloodstream.
Still, I scowled.
“Why didn’t you answer when I called for you?” The words came out sounding a lot harsher than I intended them to, but goddamn it, she’d scared the hell out of me.
Willow froze, startled.
“Sorry. I guess I didn’t hear you.”
“You should’ve stayed where I could see you.” I snatched the wood from her to give my hands something to do. She stared at me, clearly confused. I felt like an ass.
“Are you okay, Dad?” she asked.
I wasn’t okay, but I also knew that I was overreacting. After encouraging Willow to forget about what had happened, I didn’t want to admit that I was still worked up over it. We’d met all kinds of people on the trail before, some friendlier than others, but none had ever given us that much trouble. The chances of running into those guys again in such a huge park were slim. We were more likely to encounter a grizzly.
That statistic shouldn’t have brought me comfort, but it did.
“I just want to get our site set up before sundown,” I said by way of explanation. I wasn’t sure if she bought my excuse, but I was grateful that she didn’t question me further.
Chapter 3
Erik
Back at the firepit, I arranged the logs in a tripod configuration over the kindling. While I got the fire started, Willow tackled the food. I watched her reach into the food bag—specifically designed to hide the scent of whatever’s inside—and pull out the foil packets for tonight’s meal. I forced myself not to step in when she struggled with setting up the line for the pulley system that would raise the bag at least twelve feet off the ground. By the time she succeeded in bear-proofing our food stores, I had the fire going strong.
“I’ll take it from here,” she said. It was then that I noticed she’d changed out of her swimsuit into a T-shirt and shorts.
“You do that,” I said. “I’m gonna change.”
I zipped myself into my single-person tent, taking advantage of the momentary privacy for a quick mental reset. After a series of deep, grounding breaths, I swapped my trunks for a pair of cargo shorts. When I emerged from the tent, Willow had dinner cooking over the fire. I filtered water from a nearby stream and refilled our bottles while she worked, watching the sun sink below the tops of the trees.
We ate dinner by the fire as the shadows deepened around us.
“This is good,” I said, spearing a chunk of steak with my fork. “You’re going to be the most popular person in your suite.”
“What do you mean?”
“At college. Your dorm suite has its own kitchen. You’ll have a meal plan, of course, but I bet you’ll want to make your own food occasionally.”