Page 14 of Timber Ridge
With a wink and a wave, Eliza leaves me to my newfound freedom and the kids’ afternoon of adventure.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of activities and laughter. Four o’clock rolls around, and the boys’ parents arrive to pick them up, leaving Hailey and me to tidy up the remnants of the day’s creative storm.
Kane runs in at 4:30. He’s late and looking harried. “I’m sorry. The boat’s giving me trouble again,” he says, scooping up Hailey in a hug. “I’m pushing it hard because this season’s important—I’m close to getting a new troller.”
I can see the stress in his eyes, the weight of his dreams on his shoulders. Something has shifted since I last saw him. He no longer smells like pine and leather. Instead, the scent of salt and sea air clings to him. His hair is windswept, tousled by the coastal breeze, and the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, revealing strong forearms weathered by hard work.
As I watch him, a fleeting thought crosses my mind: what would it be like to be wrapped in those arms? I continue to observe him embracing Hailey. I can’t deny the growing curiosity, the subtle pull of attraction that seems to linger in the air when he’s nearby.
“Not to worry, it’s not like I have a hot date or anything. Hailey and I took the time to clean up. She’s been my teacher’s aide today.”
He looks up. “We’re heading to May’s for dinner. Would you like to join us?”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Inviting you to dinner is the least I can do since I was late again.”
I hesitate, thinking of my quiet cabin and the evening ahead. The idea of sharing a meal with Hailey and her dad, who has become more intriguing with each passing moment, appeals to me.
“I’d like that,” I say, neatly wrapping up my day of “camp counseling.”
Chapter Six
KANE
I trail behind Timber and Hailey as we walk to May’s Café. It’s been a long day, and my muscles remind me of every line I hauled in. But as I glance at Timber, walking beside Hailey, who’s chattering away, a tug of something warms in my chest.
We arrive at the café, and Hailey immediately declares she wants to sit next to Ms. Moore. I appreciate her enthusiasm, even though a quiet voice in my head warns me not to get too comfortable. People come and go, and I worry about the connection Hailey’s already forming with Timber. My poor little girl will have to face another unavoidable goodbye, but I suppose it’s better to learn early that nothing is permanent than live with the fantasy that everyone stays.
As we settle into our booth, May approaches with her usual blend of motherly affection and bustling efficiency.
“Welcome back,” she says. “Are you here for the fish fry? Eric dropped off about fifty pounds of halibut.”
“That sounds good to me,” I say.
“I’ll have the same,” Timber replies.
“Daddy, I want chocolate chip pancakes!” Hailey’s declaration is firm, her eyes gleaming with the unyielding determination of a five-year-old.
“But Hailey, it’s dinnertime, and the halibut here is the best around. Eric caught it fresh. You love fish.”
“No, I want pancakes!” she says, crossing her arms, her resolve setting like concrete.
“Hailey, while pancakes are great, halibut is the food of adventurers,” Timber chimes in, her voice as smooth as the calm sea. “Why don’t you order the fish and then tell your dad about your day as my special helper.”
I glance at May to see if she’s going to add her two cents, but she holds her pad and pen, watching the exchange with an amused look.
“Alright, I’ll have the halibut, even though I want pancakes.” Hailey says.
I send a silent thank-you to Timber for stepping in.
Timber laughs, a sound that’s quickly becoming familiar and welcome. “Maybe if you’re lucky, your dad will take you for chocolate chip pancakes on the weekend.” She looks at me, her eyes asking if it’s possible.
I nod. “We can have pancakes on Sunday. Deal?”
Hailey nods. “Deal!”
May jots down our orders. “One adventurous halibut for the young explorer, and two more for the table. Coming right up.”