Beyond the Wild

By Lisa Volz

Finding freedom is more than just running away. Sometimes it requires coming together.
Living in the wilderness is not for the faint of heart. The tiny community of Paradise Creek managed to escape a cruel regime in exchange for safety, peace, and freedom, and they’d like to keep it that way. When the kids from Paradise Creek go on a camping adventure, they come across a shack out in the middle of nowhere. Loner Mac Gower and his wife Annie have escaped that same regime, and Mac has no intentions of ever losing his freedom again. But Annie longs for the sense of community that she once had. The kids befriend Mac and Annie and invite them back to Paradise Creek to meet their parents. Mac is reluctant to go, but he wants Annie to be happy.
Mac and Annie are met with polite apprehension when they meet the adults of Paradise Creek. A few of them sense something in the couple that makes them realize they have more in common than they have differences if Mac could just stop battling his demons.
It will take the innocent trust of the kids and the faith of the whole village to make Paradise Creek a community they can all call home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Volz
• Release date: Jul 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005279653

Lisa Volz

Lisa Volz is a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. She has two children and is continuously learning from them. She likes coffee and chocolate, especially cookies, and considers them a food group. She is a former graphic designer by trade, but a writer at heart. She writes about characters that are lovable but deeply flawed. She draws on her faith when finding the good in people, both fictional and actual. Her novels are uplifting and will have you rooting for the underdog.

Book preview

Beyond the Wild

By Lisa Volz

Books by Lisa Volz

Against the Tide

A Good Heart

Her Past Remains

Love at Crystal Lake

Chasing the Wind

Hope for Haley

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales is entirely coincidental.

BEYOND THE WILD

Copyright 2022 by Lisa Volz

Published by Volz Books

All rights reserved. This book remains the copyrighted material of the author and may

not be re-distributed or reproduced to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

"Beyond the Wild" is dedicated to my children. Always stand for truth, hold fast to your moral upbringing, and never be afraid to question things that don’t seem right to you. Trust your instincts. And when in doubt, trust that God has a plan.

Chapter 1

Mac Gower raced through the streets of Willowdale, ducking into doorways, and hiding in corners. He could hear the angry shouts getting closer and closer.

He went in here! one man yelled.

Mac was only a few steps ahead of the angry mob of men. He looked around the abandoned office, the copy machine still in the corner, the chairs arranged at the desks as if the staff was on their lunch break. But Mac knew the office hadn’t been inhabited for months. Everyone had been sent home and restricted from returning until they complied. It was the same all through the town.

There was a door at the far end. Maybe it led to a hallway. Maybe he could make his escape through there. The mob was worked into a frenzy as they made their way through the building. He could hear them searching for him, crashing through doors, knocking over furniture.

His heart raced. The sweat poured down his face. He had to make it out alive and get to Annie. They would be looking for her next. He couldn’t lose the love of his life. He had to protect her.

Annie! he whispered.

He reached for the door and turned the handle. It was locked.

No! he yelled. He was in a panic.

He kicked at the door with all his might. It barely budged.

Come on! he grunted in frustration. Not now!

The door on the other side of the room flew open. Five men stood staring at him. No way could he take on five men! They started to run toward him! He was a cornered animal. He screamed for Annie as the men closed in.

Mac! Annie said. She was shaking him. Mac, you’re safe. You’re dreaming again.

He woke up and looked into Annie’s eyes.

She hugged him close. You’re shaking, she said. Another nightmare?

He fought to catch his breath.

She stroked his cheek. It’s okay. It was just a dream.

He rolled away from her, embarrassed he’d let his emotions get the best of him.

Yeah, yeah. A dream, he echoed.

What was it this time? she asked.

He didn’t answer her. He didn’t like to talk about it. They’d escaped Willowdale six years ago, and he still had nightmares. He wondered if the nightmares would ever go away.

I’m okay. Did I wake you? he asked.

She nodded. It was time to get up anyway. She smiled.

I’m sorry, he said.

She kissed him softly, then got out of their bed and made her way through their one room cabin to the front door. She knew it was best to give him space.

The boards creaked under her feet as Annie Gower stepped onto the porch of the isolated ramshackle shack. A cool spring breeze blew, and she pulled her wrap a little tighter around her shoulders. She looked across the valley at the hills to the east and wondered if she and Mac had made the right decision to leave their little town of Willowdale.

Their cat, Butch, meowed and rubbed against her leg startling her. She picked up Butch and nuzzled her. I just fed you. What are you complaining about?

Butch meowed again. Maybe Butch was just grumpy that they’d named her Butch when she was a petite tabby who was clearly a female cat. But leave it to Mac to come up with a tomboy name for the sweetest cat that ever walked the earth.

Mac walked up behind Annie and slid his arm around her waste, the whiskers from his beard tickled her neck. Whatcha thinking about? he asked, as if he hadn’t just woken up in a cold sweat.

She smiled. Nothing. Just enjoying the warm breeze. She knew Mac well enough that he wouldn’t want to talk about his nightmare. He didn’t have them that often, but she knew they embarrassed him. She hoped that one day they would stop.

Nah, I know you better than yourself. You’re thinking about something, he insisted.

She let Butch jump to the ground and leaned her head back on Mac’s shoulder. Do you ever miss it?

Miss what?

Willowdale, she said.

Are you kidding? I get to relive it in my dreams, he said sarcastically. That was Mac, always keeping a strong front. Besides, they ruined it. I like it better here where we can be free, where I am the master of my domain, he said dramatically.

She didn’t comment.

I know it’s been harder for you than for me, he said. You could drop me in the middle of the desert, and I’d make a home. But you’re different. You like people. I’m sorry it had to come to this.

I know. It’s not your fault. There was no way we could stay there. Not with that new regime. I just miss the old days sometimes.

I understand. But that was years ago. Those days don’t exist anymore.

She turned around and faced him. I know. My home is with you. It’s always been with you. No matter what we face, we have each other, she said.

He kissed her softly.

You hungry for dinner? I thought I’d see if the fish are biting today, he said.

He grabbed his pole and walked down to the shore of the river and cast his line then pulled it tight.

She watched him from the porch. Butch meowed again.

Oh, you hush. I’m sure there will be leftovers for you too, she said.

Across the valley, just on the other side of the west-facing hills, seven-year-old Isabella Barnes scooted on her belly on the dirty, wood-plank floor under the bed that she shared with her sister, Amber, and stretched her arm to the far corner. She could barely reach the soft fabric with her fingertips as she loosened the cherished memento that was wedged between the wall and the bedpost. It popped loose and she scooted from under the bed and cradled the stuffed lamb, fragile and well-loved. She didn’t hear Amber come in the room.

Isabella! Amber scolded quietly. Her older sister closed the bedroom door behind her. What are you doing? You know you aren’t supposed to play with that! Give it here! Amber reached for the lamb, but Isabella held on tighter to the heirloom.

No! I just wanted to see it again, she whined. She pouted at her sister, and Amber relented for the moment. Tell me again, Isabella said.

Amber walked to the edge of the loft and looked down to make sure their mother was in the kitchen. She walked back and sat down on the floor beside Isabella.

Fine. But this is the last time. You can’t keep pulling it out of there. The seams are barely holding on as it is.

I promise I’ll be careful, Isabella said. Tell me.

Amber smiled. Her name is Mutton. Mother said she bought her before I was born.

That would make her over thirteen years old, Isabella said.

Something like that, yes. She slept on the pillow beside me every night. And when I was scared, she kept me brave. She was my favorite. When we left everything behind, I couldn’t bear to leave her behind too. Mother had her in one of the boxes to donate, but I dug through the boxes until I found her. Mother would kill me if she knew I had her.

Why? It’s only a stuffed animal, Isabella said.

It’s a reminder, and Mother said reminders can get you in trouble. And we don’t want any trouble.

Isabella frowned. That’s so sad.

It’s what we had to do. You’re too young to remember. I had a whole room full of stuffed animals, and dolls too.

Did I have any? Isabella asked.

Amber shook her head. No, you weren’t born yet.

But I’m nearly eight. Why can’t I get my own Mutton?

We can’t buy one. Besides, I don’t think they make the same one anymore. But you can share Mutton with me. But you have to be careful, and Mother can’t find out we have her, or we’ll lose her. Do you understand? Amber gave her a motherly look.

Yes, I do, she said, her head hanging low.

They heard their mother call them. Amber? Isabella?! Come help me with dinner, please! Where are you girls?

Isabella’s eyes got big with fear, and she scrambled under the bed and wedged Mutton back in her hiding place, then she scooted back out from under the bed.

Amber helped her wipe the dust off her light blue dress. You’re filthy! When was the last time you swept the floor?! she scolded.

I don’t know, Isabella whined.

You’d better not get us in trouble! I don’t want any extra chores! she said and finished dusting her dress. Come on!

They hurried down the ladder from the loft and into the kitchen where their mother was just putting the enamel pot into the wood-burning oven.

There you are! I need some potatoes peeled. Isabella, I think you can handle that, Mother said.

She placed a pot on the table and a burlap cloth beside it. Then she instructed Isabella to put the peels on the burlap and the peeled potatoes in the pot. She did as she was told. Be sure to save the peels for the compost pile, she added.

She turned her attention to Amber. I need you to go out to the garden and find some carrots, please.

Yes, Ma’am, Amber said quietly.

Amber walked to the side of the house where the small garden was. She used a pail to collect a few carrots. She hated gardening. She didn’t like being dirty, and gardening was tedious and time consuming. She was old enough that she remembered going to the supermarket and buying vegetables when they needed them. None of this sowing and planting nonsense. But what choice did she have. That old life of convenience was long gone. They all had to make the best of it now.

She glanced at Henry’s house down the dirt road. It had the same basic frame as her house did. One story with a main room, one small bedroom downstairs, a kitchen, and a loft, a small outhouse at the side of the house with a well in the front. Henry was the same age that she was, and his family got to their tiny village shortly after her family did.

Amber’s family, the Shafers, and the Holmes families were the first to arrive. From what her father told her, they claimed the land and settled their village. She was only five when they got there and didn’t much understand why they had moved away from everyone they knew. But her parents always told her it was for the best. The older she got, however, the more she questioned her parents’ choice.

She waved to Henry as he carried wood into his house, no doubt for their dinner as well. She wished she had a brother to help chop the wood. Her father did it mostly, but she had just started to help out occasionally. The ax was heavy, and the chopping gave her blisters. It made her feel less like a girl and more like a lumberjack.

She heard her mother call her name, and she brought the fresh carrots into the house.

Thank you, Amber. Those should be perfect. Put them on the table and start cleaning them, would you?