The Way Home Read Online Free PDF

today.”
    Not my home, thought Tory. But she was too excited to worry about that. She took a deep breath. “Do you think Lucky will still be there?”
    Cathy hesitated. “I think he’ll be close by.
He probably never even left. After all, the fire never reached our valley.”
    Tory held onto that thought all morning. Lucky was safe. He had to be. Breakfast took forever. Now that the danger had passed, no one was in a hurry to do anything. Tory worried that they would have to pack up all the boxes that had been stored in the Mathesons’ garage and put them in the car and truck. It would take ages. To her great relief, Oliver and Cathy decided to come back for their belongings when it wasn’t raining.
    Finally Oliver and Deanna’s dad ventured outside to load four of the horses into the horse trailer – Barnabas, Destiny, Orpheus, and a black horse called Jet. Oliver would get the others when he returned for the boxes. Tory watched through the rain-streaked window, whispering at them to hurry.
    She thought Oliver and Cathy would never finish saying their thank-yous and good-byes, but at last they were on their way. This time, Julia and Tory rode in the car with Cathy. The windshield wipers swished back and forth. Julia, who had spent half the night whispering with Deanna in her double bed, leaned against the window and fell asleep.
    How could she sleep? Didn’t she care about Lucky? Tory sat bolt upright. Her stomach was in a knot as a hundred questions tumbled around in her head. Was Lucky hungry? He must have eaten all his hay by now. Did he have enough water? Oliver had left the bathtub in the corral full but how much did a pony drink? She hoped Lucky had gone into the shelter to get out of the rain.
    Cathy had to make one stop in Springton, at the bank. The next stop was the general store near their farm, where she ran in to pick up the mail. Tory bounced on the seat impatiently. She thought she would burst by the time Cathy turned onto the farm road.
    Oliver was there ahead of them. He had put on a rain slicker and was unloading the last horse from the trailer. Tory practically fell out of the car. “For heavens sake, Tory, wait until I’ve stopped!” snapped Cathy.
    Tory ran to the corral fence. The shelter at the far end was empty. Some hay was scattered around and the bathtub still had water in it. But there was no sign of the white pony.
    A tight feeling squeezed her chest. “Lucky!” she yelled. “ Lucky ! ”
    â€œCome inside, Tory,” called Cathy. “You’re going to get soaked.” She and Julia dashed through the rain to the house. Oliver walked over to the corral where Tory still stood, rain mixing with the tears on her cheeks. He frowned. “He won’t be far. You’d better come in now. We’ll look for him when the rain lets up.” He put his hand on her arm.
    Tory wrenched herself away. Oliver didn’t care. Nobody cared except her. She made up her mind fast. She scrambled over the fence, and ran across the corral and through the gate that Oliver had left open for Lucky. She could hear Oliver shouting something at her, but she kept running.
    Down through the field she raced, the wet grass slapping at her jeans. Wind drove the stinging rain into her face. She crossed the creek bed at the bottom of the field, mud squelching up over her runners.
    She stopped at the open gate in the middle of the wire fence. Her heart beating fast, she stared into the dripping forest. It was dark in there, almost as dark as night, and the trees swayed and groaned in the wind.
    â€œLucky!” she shouted. “Lucky!” The rain plastered her hair to her head. Her drenched sweatshirt clung to her back like clammy skin. But she didn’t want to go back to the house.
She would never go back until she found Lucky.
    Tory took a deep breath. She took a few hesitant steps forward, through the open gate, and she started to