Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
TIMBER
I’m jolted awake by the sound of something clanking nearby. I struggle to shake off the remnants of sleep. What time is it? I reach for my phone and see it’s half past four. I’m relieved I didn’t sleep through my shift at the community center.
For a moment, I lay still. Everything's foggy, and nothing looks right. Then, bam! It all hits me at once.
The fire. The chaos. The cabin reduced to ashes in the night. Kane’s house.
I push back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed, shivering as the chill of the wooden floor seeps into my feet.
As I stumble to the bathroom, the noise from the kitchen grows louder, and the aroma of sizzling bacon drifts through the air. Relief floods through me at the realization that it must be Kane in the kitchen, making breakfast .
With each step, I ignore the heaviness in my bones and focus on the present moment and the day ahead. At home I might have called in sick, but here I can’t. The parents need me to be there for their kids.
I gather my clothes but realize all I have is what’s on my back. Those are worries for when I’m fully awake, and I won’t be that until I wash my face and rinse my mouth, so I head to the bathroom where both water and electricity are at my fingertips. As the water washes away the remnants of sleep, the tension in my muscles eases. There’s something soothing about the steady rhythm of the shower, the sound of water against the tile drowning out the noise of my racing thoughts—thoughts about the fire and Kane. But I don’t linger. In a town where water is scarce, every minute in the shower is a minute less for someone else. Last night’s shower was about removing the soot and ash from my skin. Today’s is about a rebirth, a new beginning. I am like the phoenix who rose from the ashes to face another day. I step out and wrap a towel snugly around myself. I head out of the bathroom, intent on finding the clothes Kane mentioned his sister left behind.
Turning into the hallway, lost in thought, I bump into something solid. I stagger back, surprised. Kane’s presence fills the narrow space, towering over me with an unexpected intensity.
I struggle to find my footing as I meet his gaze. There’s a trace of something in his eyes, a spark of amusement that leaves me momentarily breathless .
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, reaching out a hand to steady me.
Heat rises to my cheeks, embarrassed to be caught in nothing but a towel. “It’s okay,” I stammer, my voice high-pitched and breathy.
Kane’s eyes linger on me for a moment longer than necessary, taking me in from head to toe. That look heats me to my core.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to regain my composure, but there’s no chance of that when the man in front of me looks like he’s starving and might gobble me up. “I’ll get dressed,” I say, gesturing down the hallway.
“Right,” he says. “Eliza’s stuff is in the closet. I’ll leave you to it.”
I stop at the door and turn to face him. “Is that bacon I smell?”
“Yes, breakfast is almost ready. Normally it’s something simpler, like cereal, but I imagined that you would enjoy the comfort of a warm meal after last night.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
As he turns to leave, a flutter of excitement flows through me. There’s something about Kane, something magnetic and undeniable, that draws me to him. Is it the way he adores his daughter? The way he hides behind this gruff exterior, but at every turn does something kind, like pays for my meal, carries my bags, or makes me breakfast after a nightmare of a night. It could be all of those things, but I can’t ignore how pleasing to the eyes he is as well. He’s as big as a mountain, with eyes that seem to see everything. His hair is the color of tree bark, with bits of gray running through his beard. I’ve only seen a half smile on his face when he’s looking at Hailey. Even the thought of that makes my pulse pound. I can’t imagine what a full grin looks like.
I head to the closet to find something from Eliza’s clothes. Among the assortment of tops and bottoms, I find a pair of stretchy yoga pants and a T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan: “I’m not lazy, I’m just in energy-saving mode.” It seems fitting for today.
I make my way to the kitchen and take a seat at the table. The tantalizing aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs fills the air. Hailey is already digging into her breakfast with gusto. Kane joins us with two plates of food in his hands. He sets one in front of me, and we settle in, listening to Hailey talk about unicorns and how they eat fairy dust and rainbows at every meal.
When Kane finishes, he announces that he’s heading out to feed the chickens, leaving Hailey and me alone. I take care of the dishes, eager to contribute in some small way to the household chores. As I scrub away, Hailey hops onto a stool next to me, ready to help. Her hair is a mess of knots and tangles. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, but I figure anything I can take off Kane’s plate is good.
“How about braids today?” I set the last pot down and wipe my hands on a nearby towel.
Hailey shakes her head and frowns. “Daddy doesn’t know how to braid.”
“But I do. Would you like me to do your hair?”
“You can do braids?” She jumps off the chair and opens a drawer that has a Minnie Mouse brush and some hair ties. “I like braids. May used to have a long braid that went down her back until she cut her hair.”
I pause, thinking about my mom. I remember her long black braid too. It makes me a bit sad and nostalgic. I miss her, especially moments when she used to braid my hair and tell stories while doing it.
Even though I miss her, I’m remembering all the times we shared. Seeing Hailey so excited reminds me of the joy Mom brought into my life. Her love stays with me, even though she's gone.
“Shall we try?” I pat the stool Hailey just vacated, and she climbs up. After a few minutes of detangling and Hailey complaining about the tugs and pulls, I weave her hair into two French braids that hug her head and drop just past her shoulders.
As I finish up, Kane returns to the kitchen. “Nice job,” he says. “Her hair hasn’t been that tame in forever.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Are you ready to go?” Kane asks.
I rush to my room to get my phone and jacket.
As we step outside, my eyes adjust to the morning light. I take it all in, from the towering trees to the shimmering pond in the distance. Birds chirp as if taking roll call to see who made it through the night. The natural beauty leaves me almost speechless.
“It’s stunning here.”
Kane smiles. “I agree.”
As we climb onto the ATV and drive away, I turn to Kane and offer an apology for the cabin once more.
“It’s not your fault,” he reassures me.
We continue and Kane proposes swapping numbers for emergencies. I agree, seeing its wisdom. Yet, beneath the surface, I wish there was more to this exchange than just practicality. There’s kindness in Kane’s eyes when he hands me his phone. In that brief moment, I find myself longing for a deeper connection, a sense of companionship that goes beyond mere convenience.
But I quickly push aside those thoughts, reminding myself of my reasons for being here. I came here to find a man, but not this man. My inner voice whispers, But you like this man.
“I still feel responsible.” I enter my number into his phone and put his in mine. “I did put wood in that stove.”
“True, but that stove should have been safe, and I failed you.” He takes one hand off the wheel and scrubs at his beard. “It could have been disastrous.”
“It was. The cabin is gone.”
“I know, but what if you didn’t get out? If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”
I’d like to think it had something to do with me, but I imagine Kane would respond that way to anyone. No one wants to be responsible for hurting another.
“Let’s not dwell on it. It’s over. I’m here to teach another day, and you get to haul in more fish.”
“That’s true,” he says. “I’ll try to be on time today.”
I nod, appreciating that he tries. “If we’re not at the community center, we’ll be at May’s Café. I hope to find her that Devil’s Club while we’re out on our walk.”
We stop at the building and Kane hands me a pair of gloves from the ATV. “For the thorns,” he says. A surge of gratitude floods through me for his care and concern. The Devil’s Club is notorious for its razor-sharp thorns, and Kane’s foresight in providing me with protection fills me with gratitude. It speaks volumes about the kind of person he is: considerate, caring, and always looking out for others.
With a heartfelt “thank you,” I slip the gloves into my jacket pocket. Hailey grabs her lunch bag, and Kane drives the ATV away. As I watch him go, I suddenly realize I never made a lunch for myself this morning. Typical. Not that I’d use Kane's supplies even if I was at his place. Well, I won't starve if I miss a meal. Shrugging it off, I turn back to my work, determined to power through the day.
Inside, I set about getting things ready, knowing that today’s nature walk will be an exciting opportunity for the kids to learn about plants and wildlife. Hailey joins me and helps arrange the supplies like she’s still taking on the job of my special helper. On the table is a jar of Nutella, and beside it, a note.
I found this in the back of the storage. An order placed but never picked up. It expires in a week. I placed another order, so you'd have a fresh one. - Rhys
I chuckle, setting the note back down. Well, it won't be the first time I've eaten a jar of Nutella for lunch.
Soon, footsteps approach. Lucas and Tommy rush in, excited. “Good morning, Ms. Moore!” they say in unison .
“Good morning, Lucas, Tommy. I’m glad you’re both here. We’re going to have a fantastic nature walk today.”
Lucas’s mother walks in with a paper bag and hands it to me. “I heard about the cabin. Not sure if you were able to save anything, so I brought you a few essentials. Things like clean underwear and a bra.” She takes me in from head to toe. “I’m taller, but I think we’re close in size, so this should hold you until you order more.”
I peek inside the bag to find cotton underwear, a sports bra, and several rolled-up balls of socks. There’s also toothpaste, a toothbrush, and deodorant. Her thoughtfulness overwhelms me, and a tear falls from my eye. This morning, I brushed my teeth with a washcloth.
“I’m so grateful for your kindness.”
“It’s not much.”
“It’s everything.” I yank her in for a hug. She stands there stiffly until I let her go, and then she dashes out the door. It would seem that Port Promise isn’t used to someone as overtly affectionate as me.
I walk to the front of the class. “Let’s get ready to explore!”
Even early, excitement hums in the air for our outdoor adventure.
With supplies in hand, we head out of the community center and onto the trail that winds through the nearby woods. Along the way, I point out different plants and wildlife that I recognize. Many of the plants I see are only familiar because of my mother’s journal, which makes me more convinced she spent time here. I point out the bushy bundles of leaves growing nearly everywhere on the path and tell the kids that they can eat the fireweed raw or cooked. When we come across stalks of wild rhubarb, I tell them to never eat the leaves.
“What happens if you eat the leaves?” Lucas asks.
“I imagine your stomach wouldn’t like that, so never eat them and only eat the stalks when they are cooked.”
We continue on the trail and walk past the cabin. Three of the four walls stand, but the roof is completely gone, and the inside is gutted. From the path, I can make out the stove and the skeleton of the metal bed frame. It hurts seeing it this way. When I first came, it wasn’t much to look at, but in the two days I was there, I began to appreciate it for what it was—a piece of the town’s history. Sadly, the chipped plate will no longer be witness to anything.
I turn to look at the kids, who are bent over, looking at something in the mud just off the wooden path.
“What did you find there?”
The kids shift and make room for me. What they’re looking at shocks me. Right there in the yard of the cabin I was staying at is the biggest animal print I’ve ever seen. It’s at least twice the size of my hand.
Lucas points to where a toe is missing from the print. I assumed its walk was off kilter.
“That’s Old Grizzletoe. He got caught in a trap once and left behind a toe with some of his gold fur attached. No one has ever been able to catch him.”
“Gold fur?” My research says that most of the bears here are black bears, but I imagine they have variations in color.
“Cool, right?” Lucas says, and the little ones nod.
“We should head back.” The last thing I need is to leave behind a legacy as the teacher who saw the signs and didn’t heed them.
“He’s not going to bother us. We are four people.” Lucas looks at Hailey and Tommy. “What did we learn about bear attacks this year?”
Tommy stands tall. “They hardly happen.”
Hailey raises her hand. “If you make lots of noise with our kind of bears, you’ll scare them away.”
I try to remember what I learned. Brown, lay down and pretend you’re dead. Black, attack, meaning make yourself as big and noisy as possible. Grizzlies are another story altogether. If you run into one of them, you’re most likely the next meal.
Since there are no brown bears or grizzlies on Prince of Wales Island, Old Grizzletoe must be a black bear who’s gold. As I measure the logic in my brain against the risk, I realize that our group of four would probably be a deterrent, and I decide to move on with our day. Bears are a daily challenge for those who live here. They can’t be a huge threat, or someone would have warned me.
“Who is up for looking for Devil’s Club for May?”
All hands raise, and I explain how to spot it, but I warn them not to touch it. “Who will be the first to find it?”
Fifteen minutes later, Tommy hoots and hollers, jumping up and down like he got six spots that matched on a lottery ticket. “Is that it?”
We rush over to check out the plant. “That’s it, Tommy. It may look prickly, but it has some incredible medicinal properties,” I explain. “It’s been used for generations by the indigenous people of Alaska for everything from treating sore muscles to boosting the immune system.”
I put on Kane’s gloves and show the kids how to harvest the shoots, emphasizing the importance of being careful around the sharp spines. Everyone seems to hold their breath while I snap off a sizeable length and clear the thorns with the scissors I brought along. When it is safe to hold gloveless, the kids pass it around.
As the morning turns to noon, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. Not only are we contributing to Old Danny’s health and wellness, but we’re also learning.
Lunchtime hits, and I open the jar of Nutella. I realize I’m not being a great role model by eating sweets for a meal but everything I bought to make sandwiches was destroyed in the fire. I’m just grateful it was a few grocery items and some clothes that can be replaced. The biggest loss was the cabin and, of course, my Kindle. Some people lose everything when tragedy strikes. I grabbed what was irreplaceable. The rest can be ordered online or purchased at Rhys’s store.
As I watch the kids unpack their lunches, a pang of envy washes over me. How I’d love to have even just a simple sandwich or a bag of chips right now. I’m considering plucking a handful of fireweeds when Hailey brings over food.
“Ms. Moore, Daddy packed lunch for us.” Hailey shows me two sandwiches, chips, and juices. She hands me one of the sandwiches, pointing to the sticky note attached to it. “This one’s yours because it has your name.”
I glance at the note and melt at the simple yet heartfelt message. “Timber, I hope you have the best day ever.”
This small act of kindness means so much to me. In this moment, a sense of belonging and gratitude envelops me, something I haven’t experienced in a long time.
Kane might believe that the community doesn’t help each other the way they used to, but he’s wrong. I’m seeing it in everything they do. From the way his brothers rushed to put out the fire, to the bag of things Theresa brought me this morning. Then there’s the little jar of chocolate happiness. Generosity is a muscle you have to flex. Port Promise just needed a little workout.
As the afternoon sun peaks and then begins its descent, Lucas and Tommy’s parents arrive early to pick them up, giving quick waves and hurried thank-yous before whisking the boys away. Soon enough, it’s just me and Hailey left in the community center.
I scribble a quick note on a piece of paper and tape it to the door, in case Kane forgot. “Gone to May’s.”
“How about we go to the café?” I ask, excitement bubbling at the thought of presenting her with the Devil’s Club we gathered earlier.
Hailey jumps up and down. “Yes, let’s go. ”
The weight of the Devil’s Club in my hands fills me with a sense of purpose. It’s a small thing, but knowing I can contribute something meaningful to May’s herbal remedies brings joy to my heart.
We’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly baked pie and coffee. May looks at my hands and claps. “Yay, you found some.”
“It was a joint effort. In truth, Tommy saw it first, and I harvested it safely with the gloves Kane gave me. I hadn’t thought about how I’d be able to get it for you without slicing my skin to pieces, but he did.”
“That man is a keeper.” She takes the Devil’s Club and turns it over in her hands and grins. “Someday someone is going to steal his heart.”
I tug on one of Hailey’s braids. “I think someone already has.”
“I’m not talking about his daughter.” She points to a nearby booth. “Have a seat. For your trouble, let me treat you both to a piece of pie while you wait for your man.”
“Oh, he’s not…”
May waves the Devil’s Club in the air. “But he could be. Now, how about that pie? I’ve got fresh wild blueberry or apple.”
I lead Hailey to the table. “What do you say, kiddo? Apple or blueberry?”
“Blueberry,” she says, and I hold up two fingers. May takes her Devil’s Club into the kitchen and comes back minutes later with three plates.
She joins us and sits next to Hailey. “I hear the fire destroyed your cabin,” she says before taking a bite.
A somber mood settles over me. “It did. I’m surprised the whole town didn’t come to the rescue.” I figured word of a fire would have everyone running, if not to help their fellow neighbor, then to make sure it didn’t burn down their property. “Communities of this size need to be able to count on their neighbors.”
“We used to.” May’s gaze is distant as she nods in agreement. “Things change,” she murmurs. “People stick to themselves these days.”
Her words strike a chord within me, a reminder that nothing stays the same. Change is the one thing we can count on, but maybe it can be a change for the good.
“When was the last time there was a community event?” I ask. “It seems like gathering everyone in one place could be a positive thing.” It would also help me find what I’m looking for. On our trek today, I realized how far apart everyone lives. If I’m ever going to find my father, I can’t go door to door. It would be so much easier if I could get everyone in the same place.
May's eyes show her excitement at the suggestion. “It’s been years,” she replies, a hint of wistfulness in her tone. “But I think you’re right. It’s time we brought back that sense of community.”
I’m filled with renewed purpose. “Then let’s make it happen. Kane says that when he was a kid, there used to be potlucks at the community center. Do you think we can do that?”
Her glasses sit at the end of her nose. She pushes them back and looks at me. “We’ll have to make it appealing. Like free food. I can supply the dogs and burgers, and everyone can bring a side dish or a dessert to share.”
“What can I bring?” Hailey asks. Her lips are dyed purple from the blueberries.
“You can help me make my mom’s famous potato salad.”
Satisfied that she’s not left out, Hailey goes back to eating her pie.
“What makes it famous?” May asks.
“Capers and bacon.”
May cocks her head and looks confused. “I thought I was the only one who did that.” She rubs her chin. “Red potatoes or regular?”
I roll my eyes and make a pfft sound. “Red, of course, and the good mayonnaise, but not the sweet kind.”
“That’s the only way. Anything less would be disrespectful to the potatoes,” May says.
I laugh because it sounds like something my mom would say.
As we continue to discuss plans, May’s phone rings. She answers and steps away, her expression shifting to concern as she listens intently to the caller. When she returns, there's worry in her eyes as she quickly swipes up the pie dishes before everyone's finished.
“Have you ever delivered a baby?” she asks.
“No.” Before she says another word, I know in my gut that Eliza is in labor.
“There’s no time like the present.”
“Is Eliza in labor?” Panic rises in my chest.
“Yes, and I need your help.” May runs off.
I turn to Hailey. “Looks like you’re going to be a cousin to baby Cody today.”
Hailey doesn’t complain about not finishing her pie. She puts on her coat and runs to the door. “I want to help too.”
I take a deep breath, my mind racing. Delivering a baby? This is way out of my league. But there’s no time to think, only act. I immediately take out my phone and message Kane. “Change of plans. Your sister is in labor. May asked for my help. Pick us up at her house.”