Wild Claim

1. Chapter OneMINA

Chapter One

MINA

Maple Ridge, the town time forgot. Same old faces, same old gossip. While the world outside went crazy, this place clung to its small-town ways like a stubborn tick. It was oddly comforting, if a bit suffocating. At least I knew what I was in for, with nosy neighbors and all. The weathered farmhouse stood, waiting, like some ancient reminder of roots you can’t shake. Generations of baggage, all wrapped up in wood and nails.

Cramped muscles protesting, I unfolded from my pickup truck. The mountain air hit me like a slap, all pine and frost. I sucked in a breath as I took in the view. Fields stretched out, towering trees, and that old dirt road snaked off into the woods. Nothing had changed.

Grandma’s legacy, frozen in time.

I popped the trunk and hefted out a suitcase, then a cardboard box labeled, “ Mina’s Stuff ” in my grandmother’s slanted cursive. It still seemed impossible that she was gone, that all this was mine now. The weight of the boxes was nothing compared to the weight of that thought, so I shifted it to the back of my mind and made for the front porch.

The lock fought me for a second before giving in. I pushed the door open, wincing at the screech of rusty hinges. For a split second, I could’ve sworn I saw Grandma’s ghost, ready to tear me a new one for making such a racket. But reality hit hard. The place was dead quiet, except for some old clock ticking away and the wind whistling through the cracks.

Empty. Just like my chest felt right then.

I set the boxes down and paused in the doorway. Lavender and musty wood hit my nose, yanking me back to summers past. Felt like a lifetime since I’d last crashed here, running from whatever teenage drama I thought was the end of the world. Now? This creaky old house was all I had left. My world had shrunk to these four walls, and the weight of it settled on my shoulders like the dust on every surface.

“Well, I’ll be! If it isn’t little Mina!” a voice rang out, startling me from my thoughts. Mrs. Larkin, my grandma’s neighbor and partner-in-crime, was waving from across the street. Her silver hair was pulled back tight, and she had flour smudged on her cheek.

I smiled. “Hey, Mrs. Larkin. Long time no see.”

“Too long, honey. You look tired. Come over for some pie later, will you?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a lot to sort through here.”

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Your grandma was one of a kind. We all feel the loss.”

“Yeah, she really was. I appreciate you keeping an eye on things.”

“Of course, dear. That’s what neighbors do. I’m just a holler away if you need anything. Even just to chat.”

Her kindness threatened to crack my composure. I gave a quick wave and ducked inside, not trusting my voice to say more.

The living room was just as I remembered, with grandma’s hoarding tendencies on full display. I ran a hand over the faded floral sofa, worn smooth from years of butts parking there. The coffee table looked like it had survived a war, all dents and water rings. Sunlight sliced through the dusty air, making the whole place feel like some weird dream I couldn’t shake. It was exactly how I remembered it, and that was the problem.

I dug into the box with my name. Clothes I’d forgotten existed, books with dog-eared pages, and a handful of photos. One caught my eye, an old Polaroid of Grandma and me, right here in this room. We’re decked out in the world’s ugliest Christmas sweaters. The photo was still in good shape. Classic Grandma, refusing to touch anything more advanced than her ancient camera.

My fingers lingered on the frame, and suddenly my throat felt tight. I blinked hard, willing the tears away. Not now.

I couldn’t fall apart just yet.

A blaring horn jerked me back to reality. Outside, Jake Mulligan’s rusty green pickup screeched to a halt. Maple Ridge’s resident handyman bounded out, grinning like he’d won the lottery.

“Hey, city girl! Want some muscle for those boxes?”

I shuffled onto the porch. “I’m good, thanks. How’s life treating you, Jake?”

He shrugged, leaning on his truck. “Same old. Fixed Miller’s roof again. Swear that geezer’s trying to keep me in business single-handedly. You back for good this time?”

“That’s the plan,” I said, not entirely convinced. “Appreciate you for checking in on the place.”

Jake’s smile faded a bit. “Your grandma was a real firecracker. We’ve got your back if you need anything, okay?”

His truck rumbled away, and a jumble of feelings hit me like a sucker punch. These people had always been there, but now it just emphasized the gaping hole in my life. I stumbled inside and sank into the nearest chair, exhausted. This homecoming was going to be rougher than I thought.

My phone buzzed. It was Jess. I answered, bracing myself for our talk.

“How’s small-town life treating you?”

I sank deeper into the cushions. “Just got here. It’s... exactly the same. Weirdly reassuring, I guess.”

“Wow, try to contain your excitement.”

“Sorry. It’s just... a lot.”

There was a pause, and I braced myself for what was coming. “Hey, you know my guest bedroom is always free,” Jess said, her voice soft. “You don’t have to do this solo mission thing.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “We’ve been through this. I need space, okay? This place is just sitting here, anyway.”

“Yeah, I get it,” she said, but I could practically picture her rolling her eyes. “I just... I worry, you know? Especially after the whole Todd thing.”

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. His perfect smile, those hands I once craved, all crap. The image of Todd throwing his head back, his hands tangled in his secretary’s hair as she gave him a blowjob at his office, flashed in my mind. “I’m fine,” I said, more for myself than for her. “This place... it’s my shot at a do-over. I need to get out of that whole mess.”

“Has he tried to contact you?”

“Nope. Radio silence. And that’s how I want it to stay.”

Another beat of quiet. “I’m sorry. You know I’m here for you, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, softening a bit. “I just... I need to work through this. On my own. This move, it’s what I need right now.”

“Okay,” Jess said, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced. That was Jess for you, always ready to charge headfirst into problems. It was what I loved about her, but right now, it was also what was making it hard for her to get why I needed to run away for a while.

“How’s Ethan?” I said, changing the subject. “Did he ever apologize for being a colossal dick?”

She laughed, and it was a relief to hear. “He groveled for hours. You would’ve enjoyed it. We’re good now.”

“See? You two are solid. You don’t need me crashing on your couch and third-wheeling.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re always welcome. But fine, I’ll back off for now. Just promise me you’ll come down to visit soon. It won’t be the same without you.”

“No promises, but I’ll keep in touch,” I said, though the thought of visiting the city so soon made me anxious. Still, it was too early to tell. Maybe in a few weeks, I’d be in a better place.

“Okay. I love you. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Love you lots.”

I set the phone down and stretched.

One day at a time, I guess. That’s all I could manage for now. I stepped into the backyard and nearly choked. Grandma’s garden had gone rogue. The once-tidy veggie rows? Now it’s a weed forest tall enough to hide a car. And forget about tomatoes because the blackberry vines had staged a hostile takeover. It was like Mother Nature had thrown a wild party while everyone was out, and this was the morning-after carnage.

Rolling up my sleeves, I made my way to the tool shed. I grabbed the shears and headed back to the garden, starting with the blackberry vines. After a while, the tomato bed was visible now, though it looked more like a graveyard for plants than a garden.

I sank back to the ground and thought about Todd and the night he was found out.

“It wasn’t me. It was gravity!” Todd had sputtered, his pants still around his ankles. “She tripped and, well... you know.” I just stared, too numb to even roll my eyes. The sad part? I’d seen this coming for months. All those late nights at the office, the weird texts, the guilty looks. I’d ignored every red flag, hoping I was wrong. There I was, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot, watching my relationship implode in real-time.

Hurt? Yeah. Surprised? Not even close.

My mind kept wandering, jumping from one thought to another. Todd’s face popped up first. That lying bastard. Then the city with all its noise and bustle. Jess came next, probably pacing her apartment and plotting ways to drag me back. Finally, I landed on the big question mark that was my future. I knew this wouldn’t be some magical fix-it trip. The sting of everything was still there, raw and ugly. But being here, surrounded by Grandma’s stuff and memories, it felt... right, somehow.

Like I could breathe again.

I wiped the sweat off my brow and looked at the mess around me. Grandma wouldn’t have given up, so neither would I. Honestly, she’d probably bop me upside the head if she saw me moping like this. Standing up, I brushed the dirt off my jeans.

“Okay,” I said to the sky. “I hear you. No more pity parties.”

I’d stick it out here, work on this place, work on myself. It wouldn’t be pretty, and it wouldn’t be easy, but I owed it to her. To me.

Watch me. I’ll give this garden a real shot. It’ll take time and patience, a willingness to get my hands dirty. I wasn’t sure I had Grandma’s green thumb, but I had her stubbornness, her cheerfulness. If I could get this disaster zone under control, maybe I could do the same with my trainwreck of a life. One weed at a time.