Chapter Three – Isla
Isla stared out at the distant peaks beyond the courtyard.
What a view it was! Percy was right, the mountains were massive, the tallest she had ever seen.
But it wasn’t just the size. It was the.
.. majesty. There really was no other word for it.
They rose like ancient guardians, their peaks wrapped in misty halos that caught the golden afternoon light.
“Mom!” Percy called, tugging at her sleeve. “Smell this!”
Isla bent down beside her son, who was crouched near a cluster of herbs growing in terracotta pots along the courtyard’s edge. The scent of sun-warmed rosemary and thyme filled her nostrils, earthy and aromatic.
“That’s extraordinary,” she murmured, running her fingertips over the silvery leaves. She glanced up at Kirk. “Do you grow the herbs too?”
Kirk shook his head. “No, this is all my mom’s work. The herbs, the flowers, she has a way with plants.”
“Is that where you get your green fingers?” Isla asked, straightening up.
“Kirk hasn’t got green fingers,” Percy retorted with the matter-of-fact confidence of an eight-year-old.
“No,” Kirk agreed, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers with a small smile. “See?”
Percy giggled. “I see.”
“It’s just something we say about someone who likes to grow things,” Isla explained, smoothing Percy’s hair affectionately. “And who is very good at it.”
Percy’s brow furrowed in thought. “Like Kirk is good at growing chilies?”
“Exactly,” Isla said.
“You’re good with him,” Kirk whispered.
Isla glanced up, surprised. “He’s my son.”
“Yeah,” Kirk said with a small shrug. “But not everyone makes it look so easy.”
She looked down at Percy. Did she make it look easy? Being a single parent certainly didn’t feel easy most of the time.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Isla said, suddenly self-conscious under Kirk’s thoughtful gaze. Something about the way he looked at her, like he was really seeing her, made her want to fidget like Percy did during long car rides.
“It is,” Kirk insisted. “Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of parents at the restaurant who look like they’re herding cats rather than enjoying a meal with their children.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve done my fair share of herding cats,” Isla said, just as her stomach let out a loud growl. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I should let you guys eat.” Kirk took a step back.
“We really should,” she agreed. “Hey, Percy, let’s sit down and look at the menu. Maybe you could try a dish with chilies.”
“Chilies?” Percy’s nose wrinkled, though not as dramatically as it had at the shack.
“If you want,” Isla said quickly. They were both hungry and tired, and this was not the time to try to expand her son’s palate. “If not, you can eat something else from the menu.”
“Is Kirk going to eat with us?” Percy asked, looking up at him with undisguised interest. “Please?” he added before Isla had a chance to respond.
The question caught her off guard. She hesitated, weighing her answer. Did she want to say no? Maybe having some adult company for once would be good. And she could ask Kirk a few questions about the town. So, yes, if he wanted to stay and eat with them, that would be up to him.
Or up to fate. She’d always thought that fate walked beside her. It was a fanciful idea, she knew, but still...
Isla looked up at Kirk, who raised a questioning eyebrow at her. He was asking for her permission. And she liked that about him. She liked it a lot.
“Please join us.” The words came out more formally than she’d intended. She cleared her throat. “Well, that came out more formally than I meant it to.”
“I’d love to,” Kirk replied.
Isla looked around at the scattered tables. “You said you would show us the best table.”
“I did,” Kirk said with a smile, then spun around and gestured to a table set slightly apart from the others. “This is the one.”
“Why is it the best table?” Percy asked, already moving toward it.
Kirk pulled out a chair for Isla before answering. “Because it has the best view of the mountains, the flowers, and the sky. A perfect trifecta.”
“What’s a trifecta?” Percy climbed onto his chair, eyes wide with curiosity.
“It means three good things together,” Kirk explained as he took his own seat. “Three things that make something extra special.”
“Oh,” Percy nodded seriously. “Like my three favorite dinosaurs: T. rex, Velociraptor, and Triceratops.”
“Exactly like that,” Kirk agreed.
Isla settled into her chair, enjoying the warm breeze that carried the mingled scents of herbs and flowers. “So, you’ve always lived in Bear Creek?” she asked.
“Born and raised,” Kirk confirmed. “The Thornbergs have been here since the town was founded. My great-grandfather built this restaurant, and we’ve been serving food here ever since.”
“That’s quite a legacy,” Isla said, impressed. She did not know who her great-grandfather was, let alone what he did.
“It is,” Kirk agreed. “Though sometimes it can feel like a lot to live up to.”
Before she could respond, the door to the restaurant opened, and a man who could only be Kirk’s brother emerged carrying a tray. The family resemblance was unmistakable, though this man was broader, more physically imposing than Kirk, if that were even possible.
“I’m Matt,” he announced, setting the tray down. “Kirk’s brother. I’ve put together something special for you folks.”
Isla’s heart sank. Special? Had they somehow found out who she was? She hadn’t mentioned her food blog or her review assignment. But word traveled fast in small towns, and her readership had grown considerably over the past year. Someone might have recognized her.
“That’s... very kind of you,” she said carefully, wondering if Kirk’s friendliness and Matt’s special meal were calculated attempts to influence her review.
“Just a little Bear Creek welcome,” Matt said, arranging three plates on the table. “Nothing fancy, just some of our signature dishes featuring Kirk’s chilies. For the little man,” he added, placing a plate in front of Percy, “I went easy on the heat.”
Percy peered at his plate with the suspicion children reserved for new foods. “What is it?”
“Chili-honey glazed chicken with sweet potato fries,” Matt explained. “The chicken’s glazed with honey from bees who live in hives way up in the mountains. And Kirk said you tried the chili chocolate at Win’s shack, so I used a chili with a similar heat and flavor.”
Isla looked sharply at Kirk. So he had mentioned their stop at the Spice & Honey Shack. What else had he told his brother?
Wait, she was being paranoid. She should simply enjoy the meal for what it was.
Kirk seemed to sense her unease. “Is something wrong?”
Isla hesitated, fork poised over her plate. Should she just be upfront about why she was in town? Clear the air? Or would that make things even more awkward?
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said finally, deciding to keep her cards close to her chest for now. “This just seems like a lot of special attention for regular tourists.”
Matt gave her a smile. “Kirk told me you liked his chili chocolate, and I have been wanting to try this recipe out. So when Kirk brought me the fresh chilies, and then you walked through the door… I thought, why not? But if you would rather choose something from the regular menu, then I’d be happy to make it for you. ”
Kirk lowered his voice, sounding conspiratorial as he said, “What Matt is really saying is that he’d value your honest opinion, since the rest of us tend to love everything he makes.”
“Honest opinion, huh?” Isla said, doubting Matt would really want the honest opinion she usually gave to her fans. “Well, this looks delicious,” she said, looking down at her own plate, a beautifully arranged dish of what appeared to be seared fish with a vibrant red sauce. “Thank you.”
Matt nodded, looking pleased. “Enjoy. I’ll check on you later.” He disappeared back into the restaurant, leaving the three of them alone again.
She took a bite of the fish and couldn’t suppress a small sound of appreciation as flavors exploded across her tongue, delicate white fish, the bright heat of chilies balanced perfectly with citrus and herbs.
“This is incredible,” she admitted, professional detachment momentarily forgotten.
Kirk smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and transformed his entire face. “I’ll tell Matt you said so.”
As they ate, Isla found herself relaxing despite those first flickers of suspicion. Kirk answered Percy’s endless questions about the mountains, the town, and, yes, the chilies with patient good humor.
“Do chilies grow on trees?” Percy asked seriously.
Kirk chuckled. “Nope. Little bushes. But some of them grow taller than you.”
Percy’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really.”
There was something so genuine about him, so present in each moment, that it was difficult to maintain her professional distance.
Maybe, just maybe, the special treatment wasn’t about her blog at all. Maybe it really was just small-town hospitality. Or maybe...
Isla caught herself before the thought could fully form. She wasn’t here for romance or connection. She was here to work, to build her career, and to provide stability for Percy. And in two weeks, they’d be gone, back to their real lives.
But as she watched Kirk helping Percy identify the herbs in the courtyard planters, something inside her whispered that maybe fate really did walk beside her. And maybe it had led her here for a reason.