Wilder Boys Read Online Free

possibilities—and none of them were good.

3 Jake glanced at his mother and then outside, where the afternoon sky had begun to dissolve into dusk.
    â€œQuick,” he whispered to his brother. “Put the tile back and follow me.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Jake didn’t answer, just picked up the orange shoe box and hurried back to their room, Cody and Taylor on his heels. Taylor closed the door behind them, and they sat down on Jake’s bed with the box between them. Cody hopped up and sniffed the box before curling up on Jake’s pillow.
    Carefully, Jake leaned forward and lifted the battered lid. Taylor gasped. The box was packed with letters and cards with ragged and torn edges, some unopened but faded with age.
    â€œI can’t believe Mom was getting letters from Dad for so long,” Taylor said, thrusting his hand into the box and pulling out a handful of envelopes. As he did so, half a dozen photographs spilled out onto the bed. Jake picked one up. He recognized younger versions of his mom and dad; they were sitting on a park bench somewhere. Both of them were smiling, and a baby boy bounced on his dad’s lap.
    Me! Jake realized with a shock.
    â€œAnd this?” Taylor asked, and handed Jake another photo of a baby, this one dressed up in embarrassing infant overalls.
    â€œThat’s you.”
    Taylor’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?
    Jake smiled. “Yep. Look how fat you were.”
    Taylor socked his brother in the shoulder. “Not as fat as you were,” he said, peering at the photo in Jake’s hand.
    But the photos didn’t interest Jake half as much as the letters. He picked out one addressed to the boys. It was dated almost seven years ago and, like all the letters, had been postmarked from Wyoming. He removed the single sheet of paper from the envelope and began reading.
    â€œWhat’s it say?” asked Taylor
    At first Jake was too engrossed in the letter to respond.
    Taylor nudged him. “Tell me.”
    â€œIt . . .”
    â€œIt what?”
    Jake glanced over at Taylor. “Dad says here that he loves the wilderness and thinks he’s heard about some sort of hidden valley.”
    â€œYou’re kidding! What else?”
    â€œHe’s telling us and Mom that life on the East Coast was killing him—and ruining all of our lives. He says he misses us and wants Mom to bring us out to Wyoming. . . . He even says he’s enclosing money for bus tickets.”
    Jake lowered the letter, and he and Taylor stared at each other.
    Finally Taylor whispered, “Jake, Dad really wanted us to be with him.”
    The thought hung like silent fog between them. Jake reached back into the box. “Let’s see what the rest of them say.”
    The boys scoured their newfound treasure. Each letter overflowed with descriptions of Wyoming, and stories of the people there. Much like their father’s journal, some letters had practical tips for living off the land, while others shared stories of encounters with wildlife and their dad’s own struggles to learn how to survive. However, two themes ran through all the letters: a suspicion about the modern world, and a desperate desire to have Jennifer, Jake, and Taylor join him.
    â€œWhy didn’t Mom ever tell us?” Taylor asked when they’d almost reached the bottom of the box. Jake looked up to see his brother’s eyes brimming with tears.
    Jake shook his head. “Maybe she really thought he was crazy. Maybe she thought she’d be putting us in danger, taking us out there.”
    â€œBut she loved him, didn’t she? I mean, why didn’t she believe in him? Give him a chance, at least?”
    â€œMaybe she wanted to. But she got sick, Taylor. Remember, she had to go into the hospital?”
    â€œRight after she met Bull?”
    â€œYeah.”
    The boys sat there, trying to make sense of it all. Then Jake spotted one more letter in the