Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
TIMBER
The morning sun glints off the water as Hank's floatplane approaches the dock, its engine's hum growing louder as it nears. Hailey and I stand there, the crisp breeze tugging at our hair.
“Daddy, you be careful,” Hailey says. She hugs him tightly, her small frame dwarfed by his large body.
“Always am,” Kane says, ruffling Hailey's hair before turning to me.
I give him a side-eye because his “always am” doesn’t ring true.
“Okay, I usually am. But I’ll be double careful today.”
I step forward with a knot tightening in my stomach. “Don't forget to call when you get there,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but this is the first time Kane will be on his new boat alone, and visions of when he got lost at sea are still fresh in my mind.
He looks at me. “I will.” He pulls me into an embrace that is far too short. As he moves away, I reach up to kiss him, a brief but intense kiss that says more than words ever could. “I’ll see you tonight,” I whisper.
He nods, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment before he turns and climbs into the plane. I stand there with Hailey, watching as the floatplane roars to life and lifts off the water, soaring into the clear blue sky. It disappears from sight, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. I take a deep breath, turning to Hailey. “Ready to head to the community center?”
She nods, slipping her hand into mine. Together, we walk up the dock while Hailey chatters about the day's activities. My mind keeps drifting back to Kane. Each week folds into the next, a subtle countdown reminding me of how temporary this all is.
The relationship with Kane and Hailey has grown unexpectedly strong, entwining our lives in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Mornings spent with Hailey and the kids at the community center, playing games and exploring local spots, have become the norm. Evenings with Kane are a mix of cooking dinners, talking long into the night, and sharing quiet, intimate moments in my bed. Love, though undeclared, wraps around us like a warm down comforter.
Yet, each day reminds me that my time here is almost over. I can't shake the sense that I'm setting myself up for heartbreak, building a life I can't keep—a life based on a single, fleeting summer.
This realization sits heavy in my chest as we arrive at the community center to find Tommy and Lucas waiting by the door. I force a smile, determined to make the most of the time I have left.
“Alright, team,” I rally the kids. “Today, we’re on a mission to find the mother lode of blueberries. May swears they’re out there, just waiting for us.” I smile, thinking about my grandmother, who has tried to squeeze three decades of memories into the last few weeks. I love watching her talk, especially how she uses her hands to express herself. She always rolls her eyes with a tilt of her head to the right whenever she's exasperated or amused by some small absurdity. Now I see where my mother got so many of her mannerisms. It's proof that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Tommy, ever the skeptic, says, “What if we get lost like Kane on that boat? Do we need one of those beacon things, too?”
Hailey giggles, punching Tommy lightly on the arm. “Silly, we’re not going that far!”
“Yeah,” Lucas chimes in. “Besides, Timber will take care of us, right?” His voice tilts up at the end, making it clear he's looking for reassurance.
I laugh, nodding. “Absolutely! I’ll make sure we all stay safe. No getting lost on my watch. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find more than blueberries—like a treasure or something.”
With a map that May sketched out, a packed lunch, and enough enthusiasm to power a small town, we set out toward the nearby hiking trail she described. The path winds through the lush forest to a place called Misty Meadows. Outside, the air is crisp and filled with the scent of pine and earth.
As we walk, I experience a mixture of excitement and peace. The laughter of the kids and the beauty of our surroundings make it easy to forget the worries about Kane’s boat trip. Now and then, I pull out my phone, checking for any updates from him, but I also remind myself that he’s an experienced and capable sailor despite the last mishap. He knows what he’s doing.
The blueberry spot turns out to be a hidden gem, just as May described. The bushes are heavy with fruit, clusters of blueberries hanging like little sapphire jewels. The children dive in with delight, their earlier banter turning into a friendly competition of who can gather the most.
“Remember, we’re sharing whatever we find, so every berry counts toward our treasure trove,” I remind them.
As they stuff their faces and baskets with blueberries, the inevitable happens—nature calls. Tommy and Lucas look at me with urgent eyes. “Can we go behind a tree?” Tommy asks, hopping from one foot to the other.
“Sure, just over there.” I point to a thick bush close to where we are. I stand guard, looking away to give them a bit of privacy while keeping them in earshot. Within a couple of minutes, they’re back, grinning and relieved.
“Me too, Timber,” Hailey says, tugging at my hand.
“Okay, let’s hurry. We don’t want to fall behind in the berry competition, do we?” I guide her to another bush, and soon she’s scampering back, ready to resume our adventure .
A few moments later, it’s my turn. “Okay, you three, stay by that bush,” I instruct. “Don’t move. I’ll be quick.”
As I step behind the shrub, a wave of reality washes over me. This simple act—taking a moment in nature—reminds me of how uncomplicated life is here. In a few weeks, I’ll be in Arizona, far away from this carefree world. No more berry-picking adventures or impromptu outdoor bathroom breaks. My life will shift from these simple joys to something much more structured and predictable.
Just as I’m about to squat, I hear a rustle. “I thought I told you to stay put!” I yell, assuming one of them is sneaking up to scare me.
Their little voices call back from where I left them. “We are at the bush!”
Confused, I pause and turn toward the rustling noise. I stop in my tracks. There, just a few feet away, is a massive golden bear, its fur shimmering in the dappled sunlight. It’s the largest bear I’ve ever seen, and it’s so close.
Adrenaline surges through me, my initial shock morphing into frantic action. I yank up my pants and bolt back to the kids. I can hear the bear following me, getting closer. When it chuffs, I swear the heat of its breath glides across my neck. Kane’s stories about bear encounters fill my brain, but the golden fur throws me off. Is this the infamous Grizzletoe? Nothing makes sense anymore, except the need to keep the kids safe.
Charging toward the group, I place myself in front of them. They cling to each other, eyes wide with fear as the bear approaches. Confusion spirals inside of me, but it’s pushed aside by a visceral urge to protect the kids at all costs. I spread my arms wide, attempting to appear larger. With all the bravado I can muster, I let out a series of ear-piercing screams and exaggerated animal noises. “Leave us alone, bear! Ca caw ca caw. Moooooo. Ruff, ruff. Meow.” My voice echoes through the trees as I continue my performance, hoping to intimidate the beast and protect those behind me.
The bear pauses, tilting its head as if bewildered by the crazy lady shouting and flailing in front of it. It gives us one long, considering look—almost like it’s questioning my sanity—then, with a snort that could be bear laughter, it turns and ambles back into the woods.
We watch in stunned silence until it disappears. Then I turn to the kids, trying to laugh it off. “Well, that’s one way to pick blueberries and make friends with wildlife, huh?”
Tommy looks like he may cry, and I think it’s a real possibility until he bursts out laughing. “Timber, you looked so funny! Like a big, scary ... bird or something!”
“Scary enough to save us from old Grizzletoe,” Lucas adds, grinning.
I gather them close, relief washing over me. “I think it’s time to go.” I don’t want to be here if he comes back with his friends. Do bears have friends? I realize there’s so much I haven’t learned about the wild here.
The kids gather their buckets, and we rush back to the community center where we divide the berries into four containers. One for each child and some for May for sending us to her secret garden.
Tommy and Lucas are picked up promptly by their parents, their laughter and stories about the day’s adventure still echoing as they depart. Hailey, still brimming with excitement, clings to my side as we make our way to the dock to wait for Kane.
The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and purple, when Kane finally arrives. He’s apologetic for his lateness. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he ties off the boat and jumps onto the dock with a grin. “I wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly on the new troller.”
“It’s okay,” I respond, watching Hailey get excited at the sight of her dad and the new boat. “It’s important to be thorough.” I reflect on how detailed this man is with everything he does from the way he treats his boat to how he pleasures his woman.
“You want to take a ride?” Kane asks, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of excitement and pride as he nods toward the gleaming Seas the Day. “Just a quick trip.”
“Absolutely,” I reply, looking forward to the adventure. We help Hailey aboard, securing her life vest snugly before casting off into the increasingly vibrant hues of the sunset.
Once we’re a safe distance from the shore, Kane passes the wheel to me, and the boat moves with a gentle sway. The sun dips lower, streaking the sky with fiery oranges and deep purples, the sea mirroring the sight with every cresting wave. Hailey climbs onto a chair and presses her forehead to the glass, her breath fogging up the window as she peers out at the horizon.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I say, the vastness making the troller seem like a tiny speck in the endless ocean. “I can see why you love it so much. It seems like you’re really in control of your destiny.”
Kane nods, leaning against the side of the cabin as he watches me navigate. “Out here, it’s just you and the sea. If things go right, it’s because you made the right calls. If they don’t, well, that’s on you too.”
I glance at him, considering his words. “It must be nice, having that kind of control. In my job, so many decisions are out of my hands. I’m constantly at the mercy of someone else’s choices.”
“You might have more control than you think.” Kane’s hand brushes against mine as he moves to stand beside me. I glance up at him, our eyes meeting for a brief, charged moment. “You can always make different choices, Timber.”
Hailey’s small voice breaks through the tension. “Look! The sky is all orange and purple!” she says.
I smile at her observation. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it, sweetie?” I steer the boat around a gentle curve of coastline before turning my attention back to Kane. “You’re right, but I have responsibilities—a job that pays the bills, a house that's more of a money pit than a home. I can’t just leave all that behind.” Part of me wants to leave all that and stay here, but the thought of giving up everything for a man again scares me. I did that once for David and look where that got me. It’s too much, too soon .
Kane frowns, the light of the setting sun casting shadows across his face. “I understand,” he says, his voice low. “But it’s also important to think about what makes you happy.”
His words linger in the air between us, heavy with unsaid truths. Sadness fills me, knowing that soon, I’ll have to leave this place and the possibilities it represents. The freedom of the sea, the life with Kane and Hailey—it’s a stark contrast to the world waiting for me back home.
As we turn the boat back toward the harbor, I let the wheel under my hands imprint on my memory, a reminder of what it’s like to steer your own course, if only for a little while. The thought of leaving this behind, of saying goodbye to Kane and the life I’ve imagined here, is as daunting as the open sea.
“Let’s enjoy the ride while we can,” I say as I meet Kane’s gaze. He nods, and together we watch the shore approach, the reality of our lives waiting to reclaim us.