Page 44 of Timber Ridge
“I liked being next to you.”
I look over my shoulder, hearing Hailey’s footsteps approaching. “Me too. More than you can imagine, but we need to be careful to not confuse Hailey.”
She nods. “I completely agree.”
Hailey bursts into the kitchen, her face lighting up when she sees us. “Good morning, Daddy! Good morning, Timber!”
“Morning, Noodle,” I say, scooping her up into a hug. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Yes!” she giggles, her arms wrapping around my neck.
As Timber continues cooking, I set Hailey down and start setting the table, our movements in sync as we prepare for another day. In my head, I’m plotting the next moment I can pull Timber aside and kiss her.
That moment doesn't happen for a while. That evening, right after we get home from Timber's day at the community center, Eliza shows up unannounced with a batch of homemade cookies. Another day, it's Rhys dropping by to help with some house repairs. Finn insists on taking me for a drink, claiming I need a break after everything that's happened. Then, Reid stops by with a new book he thinks I'd enjoy. And finally, Nash shows up unexpectedly, wanting to drink a beer and stare at the pond.
In between these visits, it’s Hailey’s uncanny knack for bad timing that keeps interrupting any chance Timber and I have for a moment alone. It’s as if she can sense our longing and chooses those exact moments to need my attention or ask for one more story before bed. It’s frustrating, maddening even, how my whole family seems to be a collective cockblocker.
Despite the constant interruptions, every moment with Timber is cherished. Driving her to the community center in the mornings and picking her up in the afternoons becomes a routine. We cook together, clean up, and enjoy games and shows with Hailey until her bedtime. By then, exhaustion takes over, and we retreat to our rooms. Yes, there are kisses, but they aren’t the passionate ones that lead to breathless nights lying naked beside each other. The desire for more is strong. Hope remains that soon, time will be carved out to be together, uninterrupted and without distractions.
Gravel crunches under my boots as I step from the ATV and head toward the community center. Inside, there’s a flurry of activity. Hailey, Lucas, and Tommy are busy drawing, while Timber hangs up their art. She nods to the corner where two of my brothers stand with an older man. When the man turns, I freeze. It’s Dad. Shock mixes with relief, and a bit of hurt.
He’s been gone three months—since Mom passed. Each day without him seemed to stretch out endlessly.
“Dad?” The word is half-choked, revealing more than I intend. He looks rested and not so sad. His once-tired eyes now seem brighter, and the lines on his face less pronounced, as if the time away has eased his burdens. He’s quick to embrace me, a rarity in him that speaks volumes. As we stand there, holding on, the familiar scent of pine and motor oil fills my senses.
His hair is grayer, but his posture is straighter, less burdened by grief. The dark circles under his eyes have faded, and he’s even wearing a faint smile—a stark contrast to the man who left shattered and withdrawn.
“When did you get here?” I ask, pulling back slightly. I’m torn—glad he’s back, frustrated he left. We all missed her, but we stayed and faced our pain together. He went away, needing space, perhaps to find his own way to cope. Now, seeing him here, I realize how much I needed him, how much we all did. Guess we handle grief differently. He’s back, and that’s all that counts.
“Just a few minutes ago,” he replies, his voice steady but soft. “I wanted to see everyone, to be here with you all.”
I turn to Nash and Finn. “Why didn’t you tell me Dad was coming home?”
Nash exchanges a glance with Finn before speaking up. “We didn’t know. We just got here a few minutes ago for a delivery,” he says. “Hank dumped him off on the dock along with our packages. We saw an Amazon order for Timber and delivered it personally.”
I look back at my father. “I’m happy you’re here, Dad.”
“I’m glad I’m back too. Old Danny called.” He rubs his beard. “Now what’s this about you burning down my cabin and getting lost at sea?”
At that moment, Timber drops something, causing a clatter.
“Whoops!” Her voice cuts through the chatter as she lunges for a fallen stapler. She rights herself and meets my father’s eyes. “About being stranded on the open water—that was all Kane. But the cabin, we ... kind of teamed up on that one.”
“Not true.” I’m not willing to let her take the blame. “I shook the cap free.”
“I built the fire, and without fire, there would still be a cabin. So, if we use that logic, then I burned down the cabin.” She looks at my father. “I’m very sorry.”
I glance at Timber, seeing the guilt still etched on her face. The memory of the fire flashes in my mind—panic, the crackling flames, and the acrid smell of smoke. It was a reckless mistake, but it was mine. Seeing Timber shoulder some of the blame twists something inside me.
Dad studies us both for a moment, then sighs. “It sounds like an adventure gone wrong,” he says finally. “But I’m just glad you’re both safe. We can rebuild a cabin. Lives are harder to replace.” Dad’s smile returns, and everything seems normal.
Hailey rushes over with another stick figure drawing. This one shows all the Hollisters, Matt, and baby Cody. Timber stands next to me, and in the sky is a stick figure with wings representing Mom.
Seeing the drawing, my throat tightens. Mom with her angel wings, watching over us—it’s a comforting yet bittersweet image. The constant sadness turns into something more bearable—it’s replaced by a warm, nostalgic ache.
I glance at Timber, who catches my eye and gives me a reassuring smile. She has been our rock. I squeeze her hand, the familiar firmness a reminder of all we've endured together.
I expect to see sadness in Dad’s eyes, but instead, I see joy.