Page 11 of Timber Ridge
I laugh. While Hailey can read, she’s made me recite that every time we visit town. “She’s got it memorized. She’s a Dr. Seuss junkie, though.”
“That’s still amazing.”
Pride swells in my chest. “Yes, I agree.” Hailey is amazing. While her hair is never right, and her clothes are a mismatch of whatever I can throw together in the morning, she’s thriving, primarily due to her time with my mother and Eliza. But things change. Mom’s gone, and Eliza will have her own child to watch after. I’ve technically always been a single parent, but I never had to do it on my own until now.
Timber’s gaze lingers on the sign, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “Is it true?” she asks, looking at me for confirmation.
I offer a half-grin, a mix of nostalgia and skepticism in my glance. “It used to be,” I admit. “These days, everyone’s caught up in their lives.”
Our stroll takes us by the familiar landmarks of the town. There’s Yeti’s Tavern with its window signs promising cold beer and warm company. All I’ve ever found there were stale chips and a hangover. Second Chance Consignment is like a hospice center—a place where you bring the things that have a little life left in them.
The community center stands before us, its facade a patchwork of maintenance and neglect. “This place was once the heart of it all,” I tell Timber. “We had Sunday potlucks here as a kid, movie nights, too. But things have changed.”
I push open the door to the center, the creak of the hinges echoing through the quiet building. “Now, it’s mostly just for school and the occasional town meeting. The community ... we don’t gather like we used to.”
As I lead Timber inside, the heaviness of Port Promise’s promise weighs on my shoulders—the pledge of neighborliness that’s grown threadbare with time. But who has time for all that?
“And that ends our tour.”
She walks into the room and slides her fingers across the tables. I can’t gauge what she’s thinking. On the other side of the room, she turns to face me. “Six in the morning ... really?”
I sigh. “I’m sorry Eliza wasn’t transparent. Hank is only a call away if this isn’t your cup of tea.” I offer her an out, but I’m praying she doesn’t take it.
She looks at me like she might ask me to make the call and then shakes her head. “It isn’t exactly what I expected, but some of the best things come from surprises. I’ll give it a shot.”
“I appreciate that. Should we walk you back to your cabin?”
“No, I’ll stick around here for a bit and try to find those lesson plans Eliza made for me.” She points to the cabinets. “I should get familiar with what I have to work with.”
“Sounds good.” I glance over and find Hailey drawing flowers on the chalkboard. “Time to go, Noodle.”
“Aww, I want to stay.”
I kind of want to stay too, but there’s work to do. “We need to take care of the chicks. You’ll see Miss Moore tomorrow.” It’s also the first Sunday of the month, and while I hate to bring it up in case it doesn’t happen, I remind her anyway, because I know it will get Hailey moving. “It’s your mom’s Sunday to call.”
At the mention of the call, Hailey is by my side and waving goodbye.
Chapter Five
TIMBER
It’s a crisp, quiet morning as I leave my cabin at 5:15 and head to the community center. The air is still as I walk the ten minutes to town. The path reminds me I’m far from the heat and dryness of Phoenix. Here, the air is thick with moisture, and the trees are heavy with dew.
As I step out of the woods, the dock’s hustle greets me as fishermen ready their boats. I pause, take in the scene, and think about Kane, who will show up within the hour to drop off Hailey. What is his morning routine? How early does he have to rise to be ready to work at six? Since Hailey’s mom doesn’t live there, he does it all. In the short time I’ve been here, he’s shown so much about himself. He fishes for a living, raises a daughter on his own, and is the backbone of his family. He has a lot on his plate.
The community center door stands open. I was certain I’d shut it, but the latch must not have caught. Maybe I can get Kane to look at it. I dismiss the thought immediately. I don’t want to add to his workload.
Inside, it’s quiet now, but it won’t be long before the place fills with a few lively children. Eliza’s notes said that it could be between three to five kids this week. Some are on vacation and many of the town’s children work during the summer.
Just before six, a boy barrels through the door. “Hi, I’m Lucas,” he says. His dad follows, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Eric, and this bundle of energy is mine. He’s heading toward twelve but has the attitude of a well-seasoned teenager. I hope you’re ready for him.”
“I can’t wait to get started.” That is true. I love teaching, and doing it here is no doubt going to be a learning experience for everyone.
“We’re grateful to have you here.”
A sweet sensation bubbles up inside me.
With Eric and his son looking at me like I’m actually here and seen, I experience a spark of something special. It’s just for the summer, I remind myself, but this short season can be the one where I make a lasting impression, where I matter. I offer my hand. “Good morning. I’m Timber Moore, and I’m thrilled to be here.”