Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
TIMBER
We don our life vests and push off from the shore. The probability of a peaceful day on the water lays before us. The gentle hum of the skiff’s motor blends with the lap of the waves against the hull. The open water stretches around us, a vast expanse under the clear blue sky. I watch Hailey, sitting comfortably toward the front—no, the bow, I correct myself, remembering the seafaring term.
Suddenly, Hailey’s excited voice cuts through the tranquility. “Daddy, look!” She points toward a spray of water in the distance.
“Whales,” Kane says, spotting the telltale signs of a pod just ahead. My eyes follow his gaze, a mix of awe and surprise bubbling up inside me.
He slows the skiff, careful to maintain a respectful distance as we approach the pod. The gentle giants glide through the water, their powerful bodies barely causing a ripple on the surface .
“What kind of whales are they?” I ask. “Are they dangerous?”
Kane shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face. “They’re humpbacks. And no, they’re not dangerous to us as long as we keep our distance. They’re gentle giants.”
“There.” Kane points to one particularly enormous whale, her dorsal fin marked with a distinctive notch. “See that one? She’s been around as long as I can remember. Humpbacks can live up to fifty years or more.”
I lean over the side, watching in fascination. “She’s beautiful.”
Hailey claps her hands in delight as the whale arches and sends another spray into the air.
Kane maneuvers the skiff carefully, ensuring we’re parallel to the pod’s path. “They’re magnificent, aren’t they?” he says, keeping his voice low, almost whispering, as if speaking too loudly might break the spell.
I nod, my eyes not leaving the whales. “It’s incredible to see them like this, so close.” I watch as the mother whale guides her calf, teaching it to breach. Now and then, a massive tail slaps the water, sending up a shower that catches the sunlight.
“It’s moments like these,” Kane says, his gaze shifting between Hailey and the whales, “that really make you appreciate how amazing this place is.”
We spend a good while just drifting, the magnificent creatures occasionally surfacing close enough that we can hear their breaths—loud, whooshing exhales that seem to echo across the water .
Kane restarts the motor as the pod moves away. “Let’s head to the cove.”
A lump forms in my throat. The beauty and serenity of the moment leave me both awed and at peace. Hailey keeps glancing back to where the whales had been, as if hoping they might reappear.
I turn to Kane, my voice soft. “That was ... amazing. Thank you for this.”
Kane smiles. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
We finally arrive at Kane's favorite clamming spot, a secluded cove with a strip of sandy beach flanked by rugged, tree-lined cliffs. The tide is low, exposing the wet sand. Kane anchors the skiff and helps Hailey and me onto the shore.
As my feet sink into the cool, wet sand, I take in the serene beauty. The cliffs rise majestically around us, their rugged faces softened by the green of the trees. The cove is like a hidden sanctuary, untouched and pristine. The sea air fills my lungs, invigorating and calming all at once.
I glance at Kane, seeing the pride and contentment in his eyes as he surveys the cove. It’s clear this place holds a special significance for him, a private retreat where he can connect with nature and find peace. The fact that he’s chosen to share it with me fills me with gratitude and something deeper, something more intimate.
Hailey’s laughter rings out as she skips ahead. Her joy is infectious. I watch her with a smile. The sense of belonging washes over me. It’s as if the cove has wrapped us in its embrace, inviting us to share in its secrets and treasures .
Kane’s hand rests gently on my shoulder, and I turn to him, meeting his gaze. The kindness and openness in his eyes speak volumes. This isn’t just about showing me a beautiful spot to dig for clams. It’s about sharing a piece of himself, inviting me into a part of his world that he holds dear.
As we begin our search for clams, I find myself more attuned to the rhythms of the cove—the gentle lapping of the waves, the calls of distant seabirds, the sand between my fingers. Each moment is precious and magical.
“Are you ready for this?” Kane asks.
“I can’t wait. What do I do?”
“Alright, let’s look for air holes—that’s where the clams are,” Kane explains, pointing out the small, round openings scattered across the sandy flat.
I nod, eager to learn but a bit unsure of myself. Kane steps closer. "Here," he says, moving behind me. He wraps his arms around me, his hands covering mine on the shovel handle. The intimacy quickens my pulse.
“You want to skim the top layer of sand gently,” he says, his breath warm against my ear. “Just clear enough sand so you don’t smash them when you dig deeper.”
We move together, our bodies in sync as he guides my hands. His chest presses against my back, and I’m acutely aware of the heat radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his breathing. The physical closeness is electric, heightening my senses and adding a layer of tension to the moment .
We work the shovel into the sand, lifting the top layer with care. Kane’s voice is a soothing counterpoint to the rush of emotions swirling inside me. “That’s it,” he encourages, his hands steadying mine. “Now go a little deeper, but gently.”
His words, while meant for the act of clamming, somehow are charged with sexual innuendo. Deeper. Gently.
I follow his lead, and the resistance of the sand gives way to something more solid.
“Do you feel something hard?” he asks, his tone sending my thoughts racing. A rush of excitement hits me, and I instinctively push back against him. Yes, I do. “Just a little deeper,” he says, digging the shovel in another inch.
We uncover a clam. “Got one!” I say, holding it up proudly, trying to shake off the heat climbing up my neck.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “See? You’re a natural. That’s a butter clam. You can tell by the smooth, oval shape and the distinct, concentric rings on the shell.”
Hailey, watching us, squeals in delight and rushes over to join the fun. She mimics our actions, her small hands eager and determined. “Look, another one!” she shouts, triumphantly holding up her find.
The game of finding and digging up clams turns playful, with Hailey splashing us with handfuls of seawater. Eventually, our bucket fills with the fruits of our labor, and we’re ready to relax.
We flop down on the picnic blanket spread out earlier. Hailey jumps up to chase a bird, and I lean over and kiss Kane. It’s spontaneous—a celebration of the great day we’re having. Hailey notices the kiss and pauses in her play. She looks at us.
“Are you going to get married? People who kiss get married,” she says innocently.
The question leaves me blindsided, and a rush of emotions sweeps through me—surprise, a pinch of panic, and a hint of something deeper. Kane and I exchange a quick glance. Is this where she thinks we're headed? My heart races, caught between the innocence of Hailey’s logic and the complexity of adult relationships.
Marriage? This was supposed to be a summer job—a brief escape into the wild beauty of Alaska. I never expected Kane, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him. But knowing this might end when the first leaves start to turn might crush me. I glance at Kane again. Maybe having some of Kane, even if only for a season, will be better than having none of him.
He clears his throat, as if searching for the right words. “Well, kissing is a way some adults show they care about each other,” he says, “but it doesn’t always mean they get married. It’s important that they really like spending time together, just like we do.”
I add, “Yeah, we’re having a lot of fun together, aren’t we? And today was all about enjoying this beautiful place and learning how to clam.”
Hailey nods, satisfied with our explanation, then her attention shifts back to more immediate concerns. “Can we eat now?” she asks.
“Absolutely.” I’m relieved by her quick acceptance but still haunted by my thoughts. “Let’s open up that picnic basket and see what we’ve got.”
As Kane and I open the basket for lunch, Hailey busies herself chasing a bird. Our laughter, the sound of the waves, and the occasional call of a distant gull create a perfect backdrop for our meal.
After lunch, we pack up. Kane hoists the last of our gear onto the small boat, shaking the sand from his jeans as he does. Today’s field trip is enjoyed by everyone, and the conversation on the boat is light-hearted. The skiff cuts smoothly through the water. The familiar coastline stretches out before us. As we get to Eliza’s, we tie up at the pier and start unloading.
Eliza comes out to meet us as we place the full bucket of clams on the dock, her excitement showing through a delighted squeal. She quickly composes herself and turns to Hailey. “Hey, sweetie, would you like to stay with Uncle Matt and me for a few days? Uncle Matt won’t be here long, and he’d love to spend some time with his favorite niece.”
Hailey looks at Kane for approval.
Kane nods, and I step forward. "Does Hailey need anything? Should we bring her clothes, toys, or something else?"
Eliza shakes her head with a warm smile. "This is like her second home. We have everything she needs."
Then Eliza’s gaze shifts to Kane. “Do you think you can find something or someone to keep you busy while she’s gone?” Her eyes shift to me, then back to him as she winks.
Kane shakes his head at his sister’s obvious scheming. She’s not just coordinating aunt and uncle time. She’s pushing him closer to me. And honestly, I’m grateful for it.